Owen Gleiberman Chief Film Critic I was late catching up to Jeff Nichols’ “The Bikeriders,” and though the film has gotten some good reviews, like Peter Debruge’s rave in Variety, it’s fair to say that the collective response to it has been mixed to muted. “The Bikeriders” hasn’t exactly set off a chain reaction of retro biker fever.
It seems as if more than a few people don’t quite know what to make of it: a drama based on Danny Lyon’s 1968 black-and-white photography book, which captured the rough-riding lives of a Chicago motorcycle gang called the Outlaws (who, in the movie, become the Vandals), their exploits now presented, in Nichols’ film, in all their unvarnished bad-boy grit and glory.
Personally, I loved the film, and came out of it with a sense of surprise — mostly at the fact it hasn’t been more robustly celebrated.
But I think I understand why. What, exactly, is “The Bikeriders” about? For starters, it’s about a specific time and place — the culture of biker clubs in the late ’60s to early ’70s.
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