The Bikeriders, based on the cultural report/photobook by Danny Lyon, chronicles an imprint of the nomadic exploits of the real-life Chicago Outlaw Motorcycle Club in the 1960s. Scripted and directed by Jeff (Midnight Special) Nichols, the culled concept should appeal to fans of Sons of Anarchy and such significant entries as The Wild One (in its own right a catalyst for Mad Max), The Loveless, Easy Rider, Knightriders, Hell Ride, Hell's Bells, The Wild Angels, Hell's Angels on Wheels, Angels Die Hard, The Losers, The Born Losers and other fine, "psychotronic" submissions that have gained fame through the drive-in circuit, VHS rentals and 1970s, UHF airings.
The Bikeriders also captures aspects of Hunter Thompson's new-journalistic Hell's Angels, as well as Jack Kerouac's inviting On the Road, creating an insouciant, though often unpredictable, counterculture climate.
In the case of Nichols' movie, the primary stars/characters are Jody Comer's Kathy, the sojourn's sincere reminiscer (who blends a gentle, Midwest twang, shaped by her Martin Scorsese and Jean Shepherd stylings); Austin Butler's Benny, Kathy's James Dean-ish spouse, who's on the hotheaded path of self-discovery; and Tom Hardy's Johnny, the cordial and pragmatic, Marlon Brando-ish Vandals leader.
Michael Shannon, Norman Reedus, Boyd Holbrook, Emory Coleman, Karl Glusman, Beau Knapp, Damon Herriman, David Myers Gregory, Happy Anderson, Toby Wallace and Mike Faist (as the interviewer) help flavor the story, as they delineate biker perspectives. All the same, the main trio serves the story its proper pulse, as the three demonstrate their courage to live off the grid. (Their philosophy is enhanced by Adam Stone's earthy imagery, David Wingo's reeved score and the movie's interjected tunes, queued in the manner of Goodfellas and Casino.) However, when amoral outsiders rattle the autonomous flow (building in dangerous phases over a decade), the Vandals' foundation begins to change for the worse, as the organization becomes one of hardened mobsters.
Though Kathy's voice offers a nice, female touch, The Bikeriders is a thorough throwback to old-time, virile promulgation. To its benefit, it never once forgets its salt-of-the-earth, tough-guy roots, which seep in spades from Johnny and Benny, who enact the power of paternal command and the frustrations associated with brotherly demands. The Bikeriders, therefore, evades boohoo sensibilities, even when it does get introspective, exposing the ideologies that mold those ballsy enough to totter on the cutting, pugnacious edge.
This unapologetic format (and the eminent direction/writing that assists it) keeps the depicted lifestyle as engrossing as any Middle Earth or Cimmerian escapade, with individuals and events bouncing off one another with mission-spurred coolness. In other words, these feral folks are meant to be admired and will be because The Bikeriders is unpretentious and character-geared from start to finish.
It should be, above all, noted that because The Bikeriders goes against today's all-inclusive trend is another of its strengths, and it's a strength comparable to The Wild One (a neo-western at heart), which in turn forged the biker-flick genre with its unobliging and unruly creed. That the genre has come full circle with Nichols' hearty slice-of-life is inspiring. The Bikeriders, like The Wild One, could (should) jump-start imitators, and if so, some will be crude to a fault in their attempts, but if they press the pedal of masculinity across cinematic lines, that's all the matters. Shameless, freedom-loving machismo is what our modern culture needs, even if the "cultivated" conformists quiver at the prospect.
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