Dalton’s compassion is cloaked at this stage in the film by his rage, but it’s still there, animating his actions. To a fault, perhaps. After he pulls Emmett from his burning house, which then explodes a second time, Emmet tells him “I’d be fine if you’d get off of me.” And what does Dalton do immediately? Rest his head on the old man’s chest. He does this not out of spite or a desire to increase the man’s suffering, of course—he’s just overcome with relief that his friend is well enough to crack wise. Dalton even smiles for a second, despite it all.
When you write about Road House you have to take all of it on board or it doesn’t work. You have to treat every weird filigree of the film like a deliberate choice. You have to treat the characters as the gestalt of their actions. This is why Dalton engenders such love: About two minutes before he rips a man’s throat out in anger, he presses his forehead against the chest of his landlord, just to be closer to a man he’s glad is alive. He makes time to be nice, and bless him for that.
Tags: dalton, emmett, road house