Road House (2024)

Director: Doug Liman
Starring: Jake Gyllenhaal, Daniela Melchior, Conor McGregor, Billy Magnussen, Jessica Williams, B.K. Cannon, Joaquim de Almeida, Austin Post, Lukas Gage, JD Pardo, Hannah Lanier, Kevin Carroll, Darren Barnet, Travis Van Winkle
Running Time: 121 min.
Rating: R

★★★ (out of ★★★★)  

Whenever a cult classic is reimagined with modern sensibilities, response among devoted fans tends to be harsh, as so much of their appreciation stems from their memories watching it. Regardless of actual quality, 1989's Road House firmly fits in that category, where the viewing experience itself supersedes any perceived flaws, serving to make the inevitable remake that much harder to crack. Luckily, director Doug Liman understands this, or maybe more importantly, the original's place within the cheesy 80's action movie pantheon. 

To that end, this rebooted Road House is everything it should be, delivering the kind of trashy, over-the-top fun we don't get nearly enough of in the genre. You can actually understand why Liman's upset this skipped theaters and went straight to streaming since there's good reason to believe it could have been a big commercial hit. With the exception of some occasionally distracting CGI and a video game aesthetic, it's ridiculously fun, exciting entertainment that blazes its own trail, alleviating any concerns this remake would damage nostalgic feelings for its predecessor. 

When former UFC middleweight fighter Elwood Dalton (Jake Gyllenhaal) is asked by business owner Frankie (Jessica Williams) to work as a head bouncer at her Florida Keys roadhouse, he initially rejects the offer. It's only after a botched suicide attempt that he reluctantly agrees, arriving in Glass Key to the appropriately named bar, "The Road House." Overrun with gangs and nightly brawls, the seemingly mild-mannered Dalton tries to keep the peace, until realizing he'll need to get his hands dirty, delivering a brutal beatdown that sends a group of biker thugs to the E.R.

At the hospital, he meets Ellie (Daniela Melchior), a doctor who warns him just how deep the violence and corruption runs in this coastal community. So it isn't long before Dalton finds himself being hunted by yuppie crime boss Ben Brandt (Billy Magnussen) and his incarcerated father's psychotic enforcer Knox (Conor McGregor). As they look to add Frankie's bar to Brandt's criminal property portfolio, Dalton remains haunted by a traumatic event in his past. Pushed to the limit, he'll have to decide whether to skip town or stay and fight, despite the danger it could mean for him and everyone else.

At one point, a member of the gang describes Dalton as having the disposition of Mister Rogers, which does accurately sum up Gyllenhaal's zen-like take on a character that's very far removed from its original incarnation. Overtly alluding to classic Westerns in both dialogue and setup, this lone drifter unassumingly rolls in and surveys his new surroundings, striking up a friendship with precocious teen Charlie (Hannah Lanier) who co-runs a small bookstore with her dad Stephen (Kevin Carroll). 

The opening hour is terrific, as Liman immerses us in the local color of Glass Key, or more specifically The Road House itself, which would come across as a fun place to hang if brutal fights didn't spontaneously erupt every two minutes. Dalton never really loses his cool, at least not exactly, remaining calm and polite even when he's pushed, transforming into this ass-kicking machine only when necessary. And even then, he doesn't take a whole lot of pride in doing it. 

Liman's biggest coup is his casting of Gyllenhaal, who has the unenviable task of stepping into his late Donnie Darko co-star Patrick Swayze's iconic role. On paper, it's an odd fit, but the actor responds with a quirky and menacing turn that fits the material like a glove, arguably giving his most absorbing performance since Nightcrawler. Through a few nightmarish flashbacks, we already have an idea why Dalton's carrying all this guilt and emotional baggage. The anticipation is in waiting for the moment he has enough and finally snaps, unleashing the dark side of himself he's struggled to suppress. 

Given how physically dominant Dalton is, he's more likely pass as a full fledged superhero than MMA competitor, but no one's going into this expecting strict realism. We're too busy marveling at the action sequences, along with Garrett Warren and Steve Brown's jaw dropping stunt/fight choreography. If forced to draw comparisons, the whole thing has a relentless energy that may remind some of the Crank films, only with more narrative meat on its bones and superior performances.

Magnussen makes for a sleazy antagonist, but from the minute he memorably enters, Conor McGregor's sadistically unhinged lunatic steals the show, delivering exactly the kind of crazed, hilarious performance you hoped for, constantly blurring lines between the character and real life fighter playing him. Even the romantic subplot between Dalton and Melchior's Ellie works better than it should once it's clear her involvement isn't merely tangential. Dalton's scenes with bar owner Frankie are just as effective, with Williams's presence grounding even the looniest developments.    

In the last act, Liman steps on the gas and doesn't let up, delivering a spectacular boat chase sequence and final showdown between Dalton and Knox that's best seen to be believed. Hardly trying to recreate Rowdy Herrington's original, this Road House is able to stand by itself, summoning a similar spirit, but with an entirely new setting and characters. And by not holding back or pretending to be more than it is, we get a fast food meal of a movie that offers no apologies for its bombastic approach.               

Game Night

Directors: John Francis Daley and Jonathan Goldstein
Starring: Jason Bateman, Rachel McAdams, Kyle Chandler, Billy Magnussen, Sharon Horgan, Lamorne Morris, Kylie Bunbury, Jesse Plemons, Michael C. Hall, Danny Huston, Chelsea Peretti
Running Time: 100 min.
Rating: R

★★★ (out of ★★★★)

Getting a big boost from a clever script that takes some unexpectedly twisted and darkly inspired turns, it's unlikely anyone would walk away from Game Night dissatisfied. And that's exactly how it should be. While this doesn't reinvent the comedy wheel, it  accomplishes what few recent comedies have in delivering a fun time without being burdened by qualifiers that it's overlong or makes boneheaded decisions along the way. Carried by a ridiculously talented cast, it takes a reasonably high concept comedic premise and just runs with it, offering the reassurance that everyone involved knows exactly what they're doing. As it turns out, they do.

When super-competitive gamers Max (Bateman) and Annie (Rachel McAdams) meet during trivia night at a bar, it's love at first sight, as the two begin dating and then marry, bonding over their shared obsession with winning. This is exemplified by their traditional weekend "game night" with friend Ryan (Billy Magnussen) and spouses Kevin (Lamorne Morris) and Michelle (Kylie Bunbury). Excluded is creepy, socially awkward cop next door, Gary (Jesse Plemons), who's been uninvited from the festivities ever since his wife left him and is desperately looking to get back in. But when Max's extremely successful and charming brother Brooks (Kyle Chandler) reappears on the scene, it causes his lifelong feelings of inadequacy (as well as his inability to conceive a child with Annie) to bubble to the surface.

Looking to once again show up Max, Brooks plans to take game night to a whole new level, staging an elaborate interactive role-playing mystery at his new pad that the participants won't soon forget. The winning prize: His Corvette Stingray. But when things get out of hand, and the line separating what's a game and an actual kidnapping starts to blur, the players must band together to save Brooks and somehow find a way to escape with their lives intact.

What makes all of this work is its premise, or rather co-directors John Francis Daley (best known for playing Sam on Freaks and Geeks) and Jonathan Goldstein's commitment to keeping the characters and viewers in the dark about what's happening. There are moments in the script where you confidently assume the unfolding events have to be "part of the game," yet you're still not completely sure. The uneasiness surrounding that, and each of the major players' reactions to the escalating crisis, permeate every scene, making for some great comedic exchanges.

Each character seems to have a relatable quirk that's exploited with every catastrophe, allowing the night's "mystery" to act as the perfect platform for their faults. The movie wastes no time, from an ingenious board game-style opening credit sequence that lets us know everything about Max and Annie within minutes, leading right into the "game night" concept. He's insecure. She's hyper-competitive. Brooks is an attention whore so in love with himself that this interactive mystery theater could only be his idea. And with the arrival an "FBI Agent" at the door, we're off to the races.

If you're searching for a comedic or dramatic actor who makes everything around him better by simply being there and logically, matter-of-factly existing as a surrogate voice for the audience, few are better than the largely unheralded Jason Bateman. And you could argue none are as reliable, knowing when you see his name atop the credits he'll deliver exactly what you want and expect, regardless of whether the project itself happens to disappoint. And it definitely doesn't here. Of course, the argument against him is that he always plays the same put-upon straight man. Aside from that being entirely disproven with darker turns in The Gift, Disconnect and his recent best ever work in Netflix's Ozark, I'd still argue variations of that lane is all he needs since it's such an easily adaptable one across all genres.

Bateman's normalcy makes those around him seem scarier, funnier and more entertaining than they would have otherwise been opposite someone else. Ceding the spotlight so co-stars can reap the rewards, no one can look as befuddled, grimace in disgust or dryly deliver a sarcastic dig quite like he can. If the quintessential small screen example of his comedic skills are are found in Arrested Development, then Game Night might stand as his best recent big screen offering of it.

Nearly every sub-plot and one-liner lands, logically furthering a plot that's probably better mapped out that it had any right being. While it's arguable the mere casting of Bateman and Chandler as feuding brothers is enough to carry this, it's surprising how many other elements click into place and manage to play just as well. If only occasionally given the chance to show it in other projects, Rachel McAdams can be devastatingly funny when she needs to be and here she's given the opportunity opposite Bateman to utilize that timing. They bounce off each other so well that they're the rare screen couple that are even funnier when they're in total agreement because their personalities are so competitively obnoxious, yet strangely compatible. They play the whole thing straight, forging forward to win despite obvious signs this isn't a game. Or is it? To these two everything may as well be, which make them the perfect victims/players.   

Even running, throwaway gags like Kevin's unhealthy obsession with guessing the identity of Michelle's secret celebrity hookup and the airheaded Ryan wising up and bringing his super-intelligent ringer date, Sarah (Sharon Horgan) into the game, not only provide a decent amount of laughs, but result in extremely satisfying payoffs that enhance the characters. But the character who makes the most impact and sends the the film's entertainment quotient through the roof is Jesse Plemons' creep cop neighbor, Gary, whose obsession with his ex-wife and her "game night" friends make everyone within his vicinity deeply uncomfortable.

Plemons plays this perfectly, which is to say deadly serious, as if he's Hannibal Lecter wondering why no one's invited him to dinner. Just watching the other actors' react to this is a treat in itself, as everything from his stilted body language to monotone delivery imply a complete sociopath. He completely and unflinchingly commits to it, and the film is all the better as a result. While for many there's a certain level of anticipation in seeing Friday Night Lights alum Plemons reunited with Coach Taylor, he and Chandler share maybe about two scenes together. But it's the latter scene in the third act that will grab the most attention because it's just so completely insane. It isn't often you can say you've seen Chandler, Plemons, Bateman and Michael C. Hall all share the screen together at one time and have it exceed even the wildest of expectations.

It's nice to see a comedy that's as smart as the actors appearing in it since the last one to reach that lofty goal was Shane Black's criminally overlooked The Nice Guys. This isn't quite as laugh-out-loud hilarious and subversively clever as that effort, but it succeeds just the same for what it's aiming for. While there likely will be a sequel looming on the horizon, the idea of this concept being expanded isn't something I'd necessarily roll my eyes at provided it's done right and reunites the cast and creative forces that made this work so well. It isn't often you can say a big, mainstream comedy is even worth the trouble of revisiting, but another Game Night actually doesn't seem like such a bad idea.