The Bikeriders birth of a subculture on two wheels
Jeff Nichols’ films have always been a blend of wonder and mythology, often inspired by still images. His latest work, “The Bikeriders,” is no exception. This film, which opens in theaters this Friday, draws from Danny Lyon’s 1968 book of the same name. Lyon spent four years with a Chicago motorcycle club, capturing the essence of a burgeoning subculture on two wheels.
Nichols saw something special in Lyon’s black-and-white photographs. The chrome bikes, slicked-back hair, and black leather jackets were more than just stylish elements. They represented an emerging spirit of antiauthoritarianism, camaraderie, and freedom. These bikers, much like the central figures in Nichols’ earlier film “Loving,” are classic outsiders who embody a unique sense of American freedom.
In the first half of “The Bikeriders,” Nichols focuses less on building a narrative and more on creating an atmosphere that mirrors those old photographs. The film eventually gets bogged down with plot mechanics, but it remains a vivid portrayal of the birth of an American subculture.
The story is framed around Lyon himself, played by Mike Faist, who is conducting interviews for his book. His conversations with Kathy, portrayed by Jodie Comer, bookend and occasionally narrate the film. Kathy, based on a real person, initially seems an unlikely spokesperson for the gang. She speaks with a thick Illinois accent and has no love for motorcycle riders. However, one night at a bar, she sees Benny, played by Austin Butler, and is instantly drawn to him.
Butler, who has moved on from his role as Elvis Presley, effortlessly sinks into mid-century America. Benny drives Kathy home, parks his bike outside her place, and patiently waits for her boyfriend to leave town. Nichols, a fan of classic American films like “Hud” and “Cool Hand Luke,” finds his James Dean in Butler and his Marlon Brando in Tom Hardy, who plays Johnny, Benny’s best friend and the leader of the Vandals.
The Vandals start as a simple club, much like kids forming a treehouse gang. They are a group of guys who love riding motorcycles and talking about them. But as more men are drawn to the tough lifestyle and cool jackets, the club grows. Among the members are Cal, Cockroach, Funny Sonny, and Zipco.
“Obscenity and motorcycles travel hand in hand,” someone proudly declares. The early days of the group are filled with barroom brawls and carefree rides through cornfields. These men don’t have much, but they have each other, and their loyalty is unwavering.
Kathy, however, is skeptical and fearful for Benny. She watches the growing gang with concern, especially after Benny is hospitalized following a brutal beating. The gang’s antics, initially fun and harmless, start to take a darker turn. New members, some fresh from Vietnam, bring more serious crimes into the mix. In one harrowing scene, Kathy is nearly assaulted by the gang members.
As the Vandals’ original ideals disintegrate, the film takes on a “Goodfellas”-like structure, but with a focus on masculinity. Benny finds himself torn between his loyalty to the Vandals and his love for Kathy. The homoerotic subtext is subtle but present, especially in intimate conversations between Benny and Johnny.
“The Bikeriders” juggles many ambitions. It strives for authenticity while telling a grand American saga. It seeks to balance mythology with naturalism. These dual impulses are what make Nichols one of the most essential filmmakers of his generation, even if the results are sometimes mixed.
Despite its flaws, “The Bikeriders” works because it is unabashedly romantic about the Vandals while also questioning the rugged masculinity they represent. The film has its hands firmly on the throttle, but it knows when to hit the brakes.
“The Bikeriders,” a Focus Features release, is rated R for language, violence, drug use, and brief sexuality. The film runs for 116 minutes and has received three out of four stars.
