Roadhouse ★★★☆☆
In the world of remakes, where every beloved ’80s cult classic seems destined for a 21st-century facelift, Road House (2024) is the latest offering to swagger onto the screen, all brawn and bravado. Think of it as the cinematic equivalent of an overcooked steak—still tasty, but a little too charred around the edges.
Jake Gyllenhaal steps into the steel-toed boots of Dalton, an ex-UFC fighter trying to escape his violent past. His quest for peace leads him to a rowdy roadhouse in the Florida Keys, where he takes a job as a bouncer, hoping to leave his bloody history behind. Of course, it wouldn’t be Road House without a corrupt villain—this time, a sleazy land developer (Billy Magnussen) whose big plans for the roadhouse don’t involve serving cold beers and good vibes. Chaos ensues, naturally, and soon Dalton finds himself knee-deep in brawls, bad guys, and a thinly veiled existential crisis.
Beneath all the punches, kicks, and Conor McGregor’s snarls, Road House tries to explore the idea of redemption, though it’s about as deep as a kiddie pool. Dalton’s internal conflict—should he embrace his chaotic past or pursue peace?—isn’t exactly Shakespearean, but Gyllenhaal does his best to sell it. There’s also a hint of “stick it to the man” rebellion here, with the movie pitting the humble bar staff against corporate greed. However, the emotional core feels more like a side dish to the main course of bone-crunching action.
Doug Liman, known for slick action films like The Bourne Identity, brings his A-game to the fight choreography. The action sequences are brutal and stylish, with just enough first-person camera work to make you feel like you’re in the middle of a Florida Keys bar brawl. But Liman’s flair is sometimes at odds with the film’s vibe—it’s a Road House remake, after all, not Mad Max. The oceanic scenery provides some visual relief, though, balancing the grime with glimpses of paradise, which adds a nice contrast to the otherwise chaotic, neon-lit carnage.
Jake Gyllenhaal does his best to elevate the material, bringing both grit and unexpected humor to Dalton. He’s charming, but with an undercurrent of menace that keeps things interesting. Daniela Melchior, as love interest Ellie, adds some heart to the story, though her character is more of a plot device than a fully realized person. The wild card here is Conor McGregor as Knox, a psychopath-for-hire who injects the movie with chaotic energy. Let’s just say McGregor’s acting career won’t overshadow his UFC one, but he certainly knows how to throw a punch—and deliver a cringe-worthy one-liner.
The film drags a bit in the middle, which is ironic considering it’s basically one long sequence of fights and stare-downs. The first act is solid, introducing us to Dalton’s world, but by the time we reach the second act, the narrative feels padded with unnecessary subplots. Luckily, things pick up again for the explosive finale, where Dalton goes full action-hero mode, reminding us why we came to watch a Road House remake in the first place.
Watching Road House (2024) felt like reuniting with an old friend who’s gotten really into CrossFit. They’re bulkier, louder, and somehow more intense than you remembered, but they still manage to be a good time. Sure, the film lacks the tongue-in-cheek charm of the original, but in a world filled with forgettable reboots, it’s refreshingly unpretentious in its desire to entertain.
This Road House isn’t aiming for Oscars—it’s aiming for entertainment, and in that sense, it largely succeeds. Fans of the original might miss Patrick Swayze’s calm charisma, but if you’re here for muscle, mayhem, and mindless fun, Gyllenhaal and McGregor have you covered. Is it essential viewing? No. But for a late-night watch with a couple of beers, it’ll do the trick.
