Brains over brawn
Today's question is: if I were an actor, would I prefer to be a millionaire beefcake who cannot act (think Patrick Swayze) or a millionaire wimp who can (try Woody Allen)? Given that you can take money and fame for granted in both cases, I would definitely choose to be Allen (scandal aside), who has had decades of success on-screen and a string of love affairs with attractive women off.
Superficial and sexist though it is, the facts of life are that though you may be a less than physically pleasing man your success with the opposite sex can be enhanced by other aspects of your person: charm, success, wit, intelligence and, failing all else, your wallet (age, as Allen knows so well, is no barrier either).
How often have you seen achingly beautiful women on the arms of men who are not even half their aesthetic equals but twice their age? When, in contrast, did you last see Adonis with his arm wrapped adoringly around Medusa? And to my point, ever since Swayze so dirtily danced his way into the loins of Jennifer Grey and the lusty thoughts of women the world over in 1987, he has been having to bare his brawn in a bid to recreate a similar onscreen success - let's face it, he's a mimbo, a male bimbo.
The truth is that bountiful though his physical presence may be, there is only so much dancing one man can do before his Terpsichorean talents (he trained in ballet and tap) wear thin. After Dirty Dancing (he had been acting for 10 years before then), a series of films were fashioned especially for him to display his physicality but with only middling success.
Of Tiger Warsaw (1988), Next Of Kin and Road House (Pearl, 9.30pm), both in 1989, the latter is certainly the most successful but that is relative: its plot is ludicrous, the acting hammy and, given that it is not a dancing vehicle, his physical prowess is demonstrated through excessive violence - why kill only one man when you can kill 20? Swayze managed to boost his career once again in 1990 opposite Demi Moore in Ghost (which is being shown on April 20) but, in truth, the only scene anyone remembers is the pottery wheel sequence when he's baring his chest.
In Road House, Swayze plays Dalton, an educated bouncer (he has a philosophy degree) whose reason for existence (you would think he would have come up with something better) is to turn the profession of bouncing into a clean one: 'it's my way or the highway' is how he describes being a 'cooller'.
The only problem is that while his job is to clean up the Double Deuce, a joint featuring a stage protected by chicken wire, the brutal town patriarch (Ben Gazarra) does not see any advantage in this and all-out war ensues.