Some people like mustard, others ketchup, still more barbeque sauce, the occasional fat guy might even go with mayonnaise, but I've always preferred the ruggedly tangy Swayze. Singing, dancing, beating the hell out of Roadhouse patrons, it's the condiment which does it all, pleasing the taste buds and remaining trapped between this world and the next like the Norse God of pillage-happy, tortured, yet changeable grown up Abercrombie models. Everything's just better with a little Swayze. Can you honestly name me one film worse because of his aww-shucks grin or punishing roundhouse kicks? Nope. Doesn't exist. Now, that's not to say Swayze is Midas-like, or even Tom Brady-esque; think of him more like Luis Guzman or Robert Horry. Film's marginally-talented Jack-Of-All-Trades, cobbling together a bit of brute lumberjack force with dollops of dreaminess and surfing skill to propel films which should have been little more than temporarily relevant for two box office weekends in February into cult classics cleaning up at low-budget rental places from now until NetFlix out-conveniences them out of business.
But what would the cinematic world have been like with unlimited Swayze at every filmmaker's disposal? The man wasn't like Samuel L Jackson; he didn't miraculously shoehorn himself into nine films a year. Hold onto your butts, readers----it's the seven films which could have been most improved by a little Swayze.
The Sound Of Music
Character He'd Play: George Ludwig von Trapp
Final Product With A Little Swayze: Hide from the Nazis? Swayze may have also played the Colonel as a stern, domineering, emotionally distant father figure, but there's no way in hell he'd have sauntered off after the singing competition to hide in a nunnery. Strap a gun on Liesl and order her on standby; the Von Trapp's owe their father 50 Nazi scalps.
Character He'd Play: Black Doug
Final Product With A Little Swayze: You know how it sucks Jackie Gleason never got to play opposite Jerry Seinfeld in some uproarious farce and Rock Hudson never got to woo Sarah Jessica Parker in some crummy Romantic Comedy? Well, it's my one big regret Swayze never got to square off against the physically imposing Dr. Ken. And he could have done it here as Black Doug, a shady acquaintance of Zach Galifianakis who lets himself get kidnapped without so much as breaking a nail. Bad form.
The Royal Tenenbaums
Character He'd Play: Narrator
Final Product With A Little Swayze: None of this Wes Anderson wordplay bullshit. Sure, Swayze would talk about the bizarre love quadrangle between Margot, Richie, Eli and Raleigh, but he'd drop the pretentious eccentricities and explain the whole subplot in six words. Never put Margot in a corner; and never underestimate the refreshing honesty in a man impressed with his own three syllable words.
It Takes Two
Character He'd Play: Harry Butkis
Final Product With A Little Swayze: I suspect Swayze may have shied away from this role because of its minor scope in proportion to the film at large, but Johnny Castle running a scam where he adopts children to work in his scrap metal yard sounds like comedy gold to me---or at the worst, a Children Of The Corn army that could easily win Mortal Kombat and save the realm for the next dozen years.
The Gold Rush
Character He'd Play: The Fugitive
Final Product With A Little Swayze: Originally clocking in at over an hour and a half, Charlie Chaplins' 1925 movie The Gold Rush would obviously become a short---or a midlength like The Pilgrim because no one would buy Swayze's fugitive being duped by some homeless asshat shoe-eating drifter. Think Cabin Fever if Bruce Lee was committing the murders and the Hayes Code was still in effect.
Mean Girls
Character He'd Play: Regina George
Final Product With A Little Swayze: Something tells me Miss Kady Herron would think twice before swapping Vida Boheme's lunch with a Caltene Bar. Besides, you haven't seen catty girl-on-girl backstabbing until a six foot tall Drag Queen, pissed off over having to study for a Calculus test, three-way call attacks you as punishment for getting the attention of her ex-boyfriend Aaron Samuels. God, he and Regina would make some sexy babies.
Clue
Character He'd Play: Mr. Body
Final Product With A Little Swayze: Maybe, Mr. Body killed the cook! Yes! How? With a flying elbowsmash off the stove, that's how. Patrick Swayze may not have been known for his pratfalls or farce comedy work, but I'd buy him blackmailing some of high society's finest for being thoroughly unAmerican. Fake deaths, secret passageways, cheap glances at Yvette's cleavage, Clue could have easily gone from damn good to unequivocally mesmerizing with this shrewd casting choice. Maybe the producers were worried audience might not have thought Mrs. Peacock, a Senator's Wife in her sixties, capable of candlesticking the Swayze to death in the hall.
