The Bikeriders (2023)

Benny and Kathy are standing next to a black motorcycle in an outdoor setting. Benny is dressed in a worn leather jacket adorned with patches, jeans, and black boots. He has his hands in his pockets and leans casually against the motorcycle, looking at Kathy. Kathy is wearing a brown jacket, jeans, and boots, with her hands also in her pockets, and she is looking down. Behind them, there is a stack of large logs and an outdoor chair, suggesting a rural or rugged environment. The sky is overcast, adding a moody atmosphere to the scene.

The Bikeriders revs its engine on a wave of nostalgia, taking us back to the late 1960s and early 1970s as it chronicles the rise and fall of a biker club called the Vandals. The story is based on a book called the same name by Danny Lyon—a photographic diary he published that documented the lives of the Chicago Outlaws Motor Cycle Club as part of his immersion in motorcycle subculture in the 1960s.

The Vandals is a fictionalised club based on the Chicago Outlaws. Led by the charismatic Johnny (a gruff but soulful Tom Hardy) and the hot-headed Benny (Austin Butler, channelling a young Marlon Brando), the Vandals initially embody a sense of brotherhood and rebellion. We see them cruising dusty roads, tinkering with their bikes, and living a life outside the mainstream. The film is narrated by Kathy (Jodie Comer), Johnny’s on-again, off-again girlfriend, whose wide-eyed innocence provides an interesting counterpoint to the rough-and-tumble world of the bikers.

Director Jeff Nichols captures the era with a loving eye for detail. The grainy film aesthetic (shot on 35mm anamorphic film), the carefully curated bluesy rock soundtrack, and the lived-in costumes all transport us back to a time of social upheaval. However, the historical context feels more like window dressing than a truly explored theme. The Vietnam War, a defining conflict of the era, is barely a whisper in the background. This missed opportunity weakens the film’s emotional impact; a deeper exploration of how the war shaped these men could have added resonance.

The plot itself meanders a bit. The first half is more engaging, focusing on the camaraderie and internal dynamics of the Vandals. We see the cracks forming as new members arrive, bringing more reckless and violent energy. But the film loses steam when Austin Butler exits the picture part way through. The remaining Vandals become one-dimensional thugs, and the narrative loses its emotional core.

The saving grace of The Bikeriders is its cast. Hardy delivers a nuanced performance, capturing Johnny’s gruff exterior and his surprising vulnerability. Comer is charming as Kathy, but the script doesn’t give her enough depth, although her performance is remarkable. She had about 30 minutes of audio of the real character to learn the accent you hear from her in the film. And, from what I have heard, it sounds exactly like the original person. Butler’s portrayal of Benny is all smouldering intensity, but it lacks the emotional complexity to be truly compelling.

The technical aspects are solid. The cinematography is evocative, with dusty landscapes and smoky bar interiors creating a lived-in atmosphere. The editing is efficient, but the pacing can be uneven, especially in the second half. The use of colour is interesting, with vibrant tones for the early, more innocent days of the Vandals giving way to darker tones later on, symbolising the darkening path they take.

The Bikeriders is a film with undeniable charm. It boasts strong performances, a captivating setting, and a touch of nostalgia. However, its meandering plot, underdeveloped themes, and lack of emotional depth prevent it from reaching full throttle. If you’re looking for a visually stylish trip down memory lane, this might be your ride. It’s a decent watch, but one that leaves you wanting more. 

Rating: 3.5 out of 5.