Better With Swayze: 7 Movies That Needed More Patrick

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.