The Bikeriders taps into the myth of the motorcycle rebel, but its idealism doesn’t hold up for long. Jeff Nichols’ latest film strips away the romantic veneer of bike riders, exposing deep-seated generational frustrations, class conflicts, a yearning for belonging, traumas of outcasts, toxic masculinity, and the inevitable slide into violence when lofty ideals crumble.
Featuring Tom Hardy, Austin Butler, and Jodie Comer, the film is a striking fusion of a 20th-century Western and a raw crime drama, drawing inspiration from Danny Lyon’s 1968 photobook of the same name.
Visually, it’s one of the most stylish films of the year, though it does lose a bit of momentum towards the conclusion.
The Bikeriders is set between 1965 and 1973, chronicling a Midwestern motorcycle club called The Vandals. The club, founded by Johnny (Hardy), was inspired by Marlon Brando’s iconic biker film The Wild One.
Who wouldn’t be drawn to Brando’s rugged antihero? Just ask Michael Cera’s Wally from Twin Peaks: The Return.
Johnny gathers around him a group of surprisingly endearing individuals who, like him, have been marginalized by society: laid-back mechanic Cal (Boyd Holbrook), humorous Cockroach (Emory Cohen), intense Zipco (Michael Shannon), steadfast Brucie (Damon Herriman), and eccentric Funny Sonny (Norman Reedus). The Bikeriders offers a fresh take on the classic biker movie genre, blending nostalgia with a raw, realistic portrayal of motorcycle culture.
The primary narrator of the tale, however, is non-biker Kathy (Comer), who falls deeply for Benny (Butler), The Vandals’ most enigmatic and defiant member. Her remark, “It can’t be love—it must be stupidity,” reflects her entanglement with these turbulent yet often melancholic riders.
At the heart of The Bikeriders is a triangle driven not solely by love but by desire and expectations.
Kathy desires Benny to settle down and embrace family life. Johnny wants Benny to take over as the leader of The Vandals. Benny, on the other hand, is fixated on the quintessential image of the biker—a free spirit with the open road ahead, unburdened by responsibilities.
Benny, serving as a projection screen for others’ desires, sometimes feels hollow. Fortunately, Butler’s exceptional performance imbues the character with a magnetic allure that makes Johnny and Kathy’s intense fixation understandable. In The Bikeriders, Tom Hardy delivers a compelling performance as Johnny, the charismatic founder of the rebellious motorcycle club.
Hardy’s portrayal of Johnny is compelling, with a brooding Brando-like quality, but it’s Comer’s Kathy who emerges as the emotional core of the film. The film The Bikeriders explores the tension between idealism and reality through the lens of its rugged and complex characters.
Her often humorous narration, derived from interview recordings Danny Lyon (played by Mike Faist) made for his book, provides a vital contrast to the male-centric narrative.
Comer’s narration, delivered in a striking Midwestern accent, offers a necessary counterbalance to the overt masculinity of the male characters. The Bikeriders dives deep into the struggles and aspirations of its characters, reflecting on the impact of generational and societal pressures on their lives.
Exploring the Complexities of Identity and Society in “The Bikeriders”
Kathy reflects on the origins of The Vandals while working in a local laundromat—a space traditionally associated with domestic life—highlighting the stark contrast between the world of bikers and the realm of women.
The film attempts to dissect masculinity, revealing its complexities without falling into caricature.
While the gang members engage in typical biker activities—fighting for dominance, obsessing over their bikes, and drinking heavily—they never become mere stereotypes.
Nichols shows genuine empathy for these characters, who are portrayed with depth and emotional nuance.
Though they may aspire to the rugged personas of Brando or the iconic figures from Easy Rider, the film ultimately critiques the performative aspects of 1960s masculinity, showing it to be as confining as the romanticized image of men riding into the sunset.