In the scene that follows Brad Wesley’s R-Rated Rear Window Spectacular, Dalton helps his landlord Emmett lug some farm equipment out of his pickup truck. During the course of this conversation Emmett asks if Dalton had a woman over and then asks where she went when Dalton confirms her initial presence. This implies that he became aware of that presence the night before, which means that at least two weird old men enjoyed the pleasure of her and Dalton’s company so to speak. He tells Dalton “If you’re smart, you’d pitch your tent,” a statement ostensibly about romantic commitment but jesus christ what am I made of stone, he said “pitch your tent.” Finally he does that Emmett thing where he ends the scene with a quippy aphorism followed by a hard cut, in this case assuring Dalton that even if he isn’t that smart, “You never know, son—maybe she’ll be smart enough for the both of you.” Add another fake Dalton dad to the pile of men who call him “boy” or “son.” I wonder if he gives him The Talk afterwards.

All of this has so dominated my consciousness during prior viewings of Road House that it was not until about five minutes ago that I noticed there’s another Emmett line in this scene. After Dalton says yes, he did have a woman up there with him, Emmett raises his eyes to the sky and says “Don’t give me no lip, Lord.”

Emmett’s view of organized religion is already well documented. Here we’re offered a glimpse of his feelings on the Man Upstairs himself, and wouldn’t you know it, He’s a land-Lord. There’s some stuff a fella has got to get away with, and for the sake of all involved parties it’d be best if YHWH just keeps His feelings on the matter to Himself. Victimless crimes like nailing a beautiful woman who graduated don’t affect the rent getting paid on time, metaphorically speaking. Accept Jesus as your personal savior by the first of every month and then tell the Big Guy to butt out.

Emmet: It ain’t the money, you understand, but if I don’t charge you somethin’ the Presbyterians around here are likely to pray for my ruination. How does $100 a month strike you?

Dalton: Fine.

Emmet: You can afford that much?

Dalton: If it keeps you in the good graces of the Church.

Emmet: Ain’t it peculiar how money seems to do that very thing.

—Road House

David Brent: [singing] “Who is wrong and who is right? Yellow, brown, black or white?” The spaceman, he answered, “You no longer mind. I’ve opened your eyes—you’re now colorblind.” Racial. So,

—The Office

Aside from having His Name taken in vain, God doesn’t figure much into Road House. That’s worth paying attention to. In the roughly contemporaneous Rocky franchise Rocky wears a crucifix and often prays prior to a big fight, which particularly during his showdown with Soviet behemoth Ivan Drago takes on added political weight. Rambo is crucified in First Blood Part II. Yet despite a down-home setting conducive to that old time religion, the closest Dalton gets to spirituality by contrast is doing tai chi outside with his shirt off and referring to his study of philosophy at NYU as “man’s search for faith.” Though he and Dr. Elizabeth Clay do indeed meet when he goes to the hospital with one of the wounds of Christ—a stab in his side—it’s on the left side rather than the right, and rather than probe it, like Thomas, she seals it, like a doctor. No one’s making room for the Holy Spirit here, so to speak.

Played by “Sunshine” Parker, who was just 61 at the time of filming but looks like something hobbits might meet in an ancient forest, Emmet rents Dalton an outrageously huge and beautiful loft apartment open to nature with a view of the nearby water for one-fifth of what Dalton earns as a cooler every single night. He likes his horses and he likes company, and there you have it. Those are his wants and needs, and a few extra hundred dollars a month are superfluous. Why charge rent when it’s no skin off your ass not to? Why participate in a system that offers you nothing but things you don’t really need?

That this appears to be his attitude toward organized religion—and the film’s, since Emmet and Dalton are consistently portrayed as operating with unerring moral compasses, at least until Dalton commits the sin of despair at film’s end and pays for it dearly—is delightful to me. Sure, it seems thrown in there like it’s a David Brent–style attempt to open people’s eyes, as if anyone’s counting on Road House for enlightenment. But it works. There’s no Jesus, no Bible, not even any talk of praying to the Good Lord in his own way. There’s just a funny old codger summing up Christianity as a chauvinist capitalist scam. Brad Wesley with hymns, pretty much. When you’ve got the man himself to make your life miserable while singing “Sh-Boom,” who needs the hassle of godbotherers?