It says a lot about a movie when the main star has more presence off screen than than another big character has when they are on.
It doesn't happen often, but here - and this may be the single greatest example in the history of film-making - absolutely everyone who has a speaking part is significantly more charismatic and believable in their roles even when they are off screen than McGregor is when he is on it.
There's no doubt McGregor is a tough nut in real life, but on screen as a thug he's utterly laughable, a high pitched squeal spaffed up to a bulging steroidal uber-swagger of shiny porcelain toothed rage. Imagine Darth Vader with the voice of Daffy Duck and you would find yourself nearing the outer periphery of just how bad McGregor is in this role.
Thankfully, it's still almost possible to enjoy the whole-hearted B-movieness of Road House. Gyllenhall doesn't have to do much because he can play the beat-em-up feckless charmer with his eyes closed, always watchable. Billy Magnussen is a hoot; I'm guessing that when he saw what McGregor was bringing, he decided to ramp the ham all the way up to 11 knowing it would seem restrained in comparison.
Everyone else does the necessary and gets out of it with their bits intact, which is a credit to Liman.
In the 70s this would have been passable summer fare silliness at the cinema, which probably explains why it's available direct to Prime in April.
It doesn't happen often, but here - and this may be the single greatest example in the history of film-making - absolutely everyone who has a speaking part is significantly more charismatic and believable in their roles even when they are off screen than McGregor is when he is on it.
There's no doubt McGregor is a tough nut in real life, but on screen as a thug he's utterly laughable, a high pitched squeal spaffed up to a bulging steroidal uber-swagger of shiny porcelain toothed rage. Imagine Darth Vader with the voice of Daffy Duck and you would find yourself nearing the outer periphery of just how bad McGregor is in this role.
Thankfully, it's still almost possible to enjoy the whole-hearted B-movieness of Road House. Gyllenhall doesn't have to do much because he can play the beat-em-up feckless charmer with his eyes closed, always watchable. Billy Magnussen is a hoot; I'm guessing that when he saw what McGregor was bringing, he decided to ramp the ham all the way up to 11 knowing it would seem restrained in comparison.
Everyone else does the necessary and gets out of it with their bits intact, which is a credit to Liman.
In the 70s this would have been passable summer fare silliness at the cinema, which probably explains why it's available direct to Prime in April.
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