The Bikeriders, starring Jodie Comer, Tom Hardy, Austin Butler, and Michael Shannon, is a fascinating concept movie based on the stories and personalities of the Chicago Outlaws Motorcycle Club as documented in a photography book by Danny Lyons. Centred around community above all else, this film creates a fondness for feeling the thrill of wind race through your hair as the growl of motorbike engines comes to life, while reminding you why some among us would prefer stick our heads out the car sunroof instead.
I’m a simple girl. The Bikeriders‘ synopsis had me at leather, Harley-Davidsons, and Austin Butler. So, it was quite the delight when it delivered on all of that and more, with measured storytelling, raw cinematography, and a journey that acknowledged how the good ol’ days might have spiralled out of the grasp of its inceptors — in this case, the original founders of the The Vandals, the film’s central motorcycle club-turned-gang, based on the Chicago Outlaws.
Some fifty years ago when Danny Lyon travelled with the Chicago Outlaws to capture their lives, he did it with the belief that the speech of blue-collared, working class people, was at times as great as Shakespeare’s, and that their words would hold the immortal capability of entertaining humankind forever. And boy, was he right.
Walking the line of being cool, and the costs that come with
The most masterful part of The Bikeriders is perhaps how it did not don the rose-tinted glasses that many subcultures are often portrayed with. A critical part of this had to do with the choice of its central narrator, Jodie Comer, who plays Kathy Bauer. Kathy unknowingly stumbles into the life of motorcycle clubs when she falls in love with Benny Bauer (Austin Butler), a reserved and mild-mannered man whose love for riding shows in ways unspoken; except for how he sat around talking about motorcycles all day with his friend Johnny (Tom Hardy), leading to the formation of the Vandals Chicago club.
Kathy assimilates with the culture of the club as it consumes her husband’s life, but is always seemingly an outsider, frequently sporting clothing that’s more preppy than grungy, and prattling her head off about the different people in the Vandals Chicago club. Listen to some of Kathy Bauer’s original recordings from Danny Lyon, and you’ll notice just how well Jodie Comer has stepped into the role, down to the masterful twang of her Chicago accent, and her speaking beats.
It was only a matter of time before Vandals Chicago began receiving requests to be represented by motorcycle clubs in other states of America. Johnny is fairly generous with these requests, although not without an honorary brawl. Perhaps in modern day these requests might have been met with legalese and Zoom calls about club ethics and moral conduct, but in the backdrop of the 1960s, reality was that Johnny and his posse had little to no control over the presence of their clubs in other states. It was no surprise that trouble came knocking soon enough and new people wanted to usurp Johnny’s throne, with some of the other Vandals taking gangsterism to levels that the Vandals Chicago hadn’t before, disrespecting women, peddling drugs, and flagrantly violating “fight ethics”.
The film gives the viewer the privilege of knowing that Vandals Chicago had this coming – it doesn’t hide that the club’s hands were never quite clean, and they were properly dangerous folk willing to cause serious damage to protect their territory (i.e, a gang). This narrative is brought full circle by Kathy, always watching, never enabling, and eventually ending up victim to an absent marriage, and unruly company. Apart from Kathy, none of the characters in the film are ever completely likeable, and they also probably smell bad. It would have been far easier to romanticise the fascinating lives of these people and their codes of honour, and Jeff Nichols’ nuanced made it feel all the more authentic.
Slick, shiny, masterful on all technical fronts
There wasn’t much to dissect in terms of a plot line with enthralling twists and turns, but instead, Jeff Nichols’ The Bikeriders perfectly captured the feeling of journeying into the lives of the Vandals as though flipping through the pages of Lyons’ book and imagining it come to life. Nichols’ writing patiently and masterfully shifts from the perspective of Kathy’s narration to close, intimate moments with the other central characters in the film, also throwing in a delightful smattering of Lyons’ character in the film as he carves a unique space that moves to from being a fly on the wall, to a photo-journalist who’s well-loved by the Vandals.
The acting performances in the film are divine, Jodie Comer masterfully waxes lyrical as Kathy Bauer, Austin Butler as Benny is an empty glass who shows his individuality with emotion and mannerism, and Tom Hardy as Johnny is a reminder of just how remarkable of an actor he is. Notably, Hardy carries his character with a distinctive nasal voice, an acting method he employed to offer stark contrast to his character’s classy-but-rugged exterior. The supporting cast includes the talent of Michael Shannon, Mike Faist, Emory Cohen, Norman Reedus and more, all of whom create memorable renditions of their characters, giving the film a raw depth.
Cinematography and sound editing in this film are things to gawk at, the perfect frames being chosen to capture a blend of authenticity, ruggedness and finesse, a perfect match for the Harley-Davidson motorbikes that you’ll see the characters sporting across the film. You start to understand that perhaps this was how Kathy fell in love with being around a pack of motorcycles – it’s powerful and liberating, but not without the taste of fear.
If you are a fan of motorbike culture, or a fan of films that capture the human condition, The Bikeriders is one you’ll want to hit the theatres for. The film’s quiet brilliance might leave you wanting to feel the silken rumble of a motorbike’s ignition.
