A New Classic - The Bikeriders
Film
Primarily told through Kathy's (Jodie Comer) narration--via interviews with Danny Lyon (Mike Faist)-- Jeff Nichols' The Bikeriders details the changes, surface level and beyond, of a Chicago biker club across the late 60's. While Kathy's involvement with the Vandals starts and ends with her relationship with Benny (Austin Butler), his beginnings are a little murkier. A stoic member of the club, known for not even shedding a tear when his father died, Benny is simultaneously mature beyond his years and a hot-headed kid who'll resort to violence if he feels any sort of aggression. Up the hierarchy of the club is Johnny (Tom Hardy). Where Benny is a bit of a mystery to everyone, Johnny's motivations and inspirations are clear. While watching The Wild One, Johnny is transfixed on Marlon Brando's cool and casual outlaw persona. Feeling like an outcast himself, wanting something outside the mundanity of his simple married life--we often call this a mid-life crisis--Johnny feels inspired to start a bike club beyond his preexisting hobby of racing motorbikes.
What transpires over the next sub-120-minute runtime is gorgeous, transportive cinema courtesy of Nichols' sure-handed direction and dedication to complex characters rooted in gritty realism.
Assumedly, it would appear that The Bikeriders is Austin Butler's film. He's at the center of the conflict, he's got the biggest presence on the movie's poster, and well, he's tremendous. But as quietly commanding as he is on the screen, Nichols has cleverly made this film about Kathy, the one character who hates riding bikes. And it works. It works incredibly well. The Bikeriders telling a Kathy-centric story results in the film not solely being about guys being dudes, which I mean, there is a lot of and it's great. But Kathy's narration provides an important female perspective on this boys' club. Not only is her perspective valuable, illuminating the male gaze and echo chamber of stupidity that can occur when so many like-minded individuals confer with each other, but Comer's performance is towering. Sometimes astute, sometimes aloof, Comer's balancing act of fluctuating between a woman head over heels in love and someone who is completely out of place is astonishing. No matter how many times Johnny tells Kathy that nothing will happen to her, you can't help but never feel at ease, much like Kathy. Comer's portrayal does an outstanding job pushing the emotional burden of Kathy's desire to be with Benny, yet knowing that scenario might not be entirely possible.
Tom Hardy deserves his praise here as well with yet another incredibly sturdy performance. While his only Oscar nomination came from his supporting role in The Revenant, you can never count out Hardy to deliver something unique. Pushing the boundaries of his filmography and ushering a new direction in his acting eloquence. Not to mention we've got another classic Hardy accent here that will go down in history.
Speaking of, there's been some discourse lately on his and Comer's accent work in The Bikeriders and how it detracts from the film for being too goofy. I'll argue that their accents are completely warranted and not only add to the setting of the film but the ethos of it as well. Kathy and Johnny sport outrageously prominent Chicago-Midwest accents to the point of being caricature but that doesn't result in me taking them any less seriously. Johnny's resistance to change in the club, Kathy's caution, and both of their pursuits of Benny are just as emotionally charged. But with one twist. Their accent elevates the story. Benny is torn between two worlds, a push and pull of the woman he loves and the club he belongs to. Is it a coincidence that the two characters representing these matters have accents so thick that you can smell the Jeppson's Malört? Absolutely not! They both personify the choices Benny has to make, that any person has to make. Between something that you loved but couldn't control or didn't want to control, and someone you love who you wouldn't dare try to change.
Also, nobody complained about the caricature accents in Fargo when that came out so I think we've lost sight of what we're critiquing here.
I would be remiss to mention the performances from the lead trio without the supporting man that drove the emotional stake of the film through my heart. That being, the frequent Nichols collaborator Michael Shannon. Playing the drunkenly aloof Latvian-born rider, Zipco, Shannon takes more of a backseat than his prior roles in Nichols' films. Whether that's as a defensive, concerned father in Midnight Special, or a man so paranoid that he's driven to pure rage in Take Shelter, Shannon has always risen to the occasion for what Nichols has wanted on screen. That's no different in The Bikeriders as his character required a more subdued approach. However, when the time came for Zipco to deliver a monologue around a campfire, lamenting over how the army turned him down, Shannon turned his tiny moment into a luscious feast. In just mere minutes, for what could've been a throwaway story from an oft-drunk character, Shannon loosely describes a story that embodies the very spirit of the Vandals. A man who feels outcast from society, begging to fight in a war in Vietnam to preserve the ideals of which he feels an outsider in the first place, is the defining member of the club. At times funny, yet mostly somber, Shannon's monologue is the moment where I found myself truly questioning whether I was watching greatness unfold, and I'm really happy to say that I believe I did.
I loved The Bikeriders in all of its dirty, grimy hyper-realism. The performances from the top-billed trio are as memorable as ever but that would be rendered moot without Nichols' superb direction. In conjunction with Adam Stone's gorgeous cinematography, rich with wide shots, and Julie Monroe's editing, The Bikeriders is overflowing with Scorsese influence à la Goodfellas. Where some could see Nichols' homage as more of a rip-off, or a cheap clone in a way, I think the unique perspective Nichols has given the mob/gangster film here delivers Scorsese influence as a side, not the main dish.
While The Bikeriders certainly has its flaws, I found it to be the rip-roaring summer film I was yearning for. Its raw, uncut edges add to the sublime realism and give some rough texture to complex performances. Nichols' latest film may not be receiving accolades across the board this year, but I'm sure it will age tremendously well. As not only a character study of the American ethos, but as a damn fine film that delivers thrills, emotion and an unexpected amount of laughs while not muddying its overall tone.
Froth
I just love a good theme. Don't you?
Going with the theme of, well, bikeriders, I found it especially prudent to visit Wheelie Pop Brewing for some solid bike themed brews! The best one for Nichols' latest feature film being the Power Slide Oatmeal Stout. While darker and a little heavier than what I'd normally go for in a summer film, the Power Slide is never a bad choice. Its dark exterior reflects the gritty realism and grimy appearance of the Vandals, further sending you into the 60's Chicago atmosphere. Taste-wise it is delicious. A wholly rich stout that delivers a wonderful creaminess and smooth mouthfeel from the English oatmeal styling, along with classic bread fluff to counter the sweet chocolate and superb roasty flavors. At a cool 5.5% ABV as well, the Power Slide is a lighter stout that makes it a breezy drink, not bogging down any brain power while watching guys be dudes with some incredible sub-context.
