“The Bikeriders” (2024) is director and writer Jeff Nichols’ film adaptation of Danny Lyon’s photobook of a mid-twentieth century Illinois motorcycle club, the Outlaws MC. Mike Faist plays the author photographer as he interviews and records Kathy (Jodie Comer) in 1965 at her Chicago area home looking exhausted in the dingy surroundings and in 1973 in the warm glowing interior of a Florida kitchen. Kathy tells Danny (Mike Faist) about her time with the club, which is fictionalized and called the Vandals MC. Initially horrified at the members’ wildness, she is willing to tolerate it when Benny (Austin Butler) mesmerizes her. Benny is one of a growing group of men who devoutly follow the club president, Johnny (Tom Hardy), much to Kathy’s dismay who recognizes the red flags. Kathy and Johnny are in an understated struggle over Benny’s soul. Who will Benny choose?

Is Butler a good actor? It is unclear. A lot resides on his slim physique, California golden boy aura and the seething emoting stance. If that demeanor is not your taste, consider yourself forewarned before buying a ticket. In “The Bikeriders,” Benny is the sweet midpoint between the club’s past and future. He is just old fashioned enough to show loyalty and have a moral code, though the principles are a bit elusive, and just young enough to be fearless and reckless to fight with abandon. He is not a smart, effective or clever fighter as the opening scene depicts when he is facing unfair odds against a couple of bruiser brothers who order him to take off his “colors,” the biker gear reflecting his club affiliation.  Everyone admires how he lives fully, in silent admiration and with abandon, which does not come naturally to the other men, including Johnny. At least that is what all the dialogue says though some may interpret this description as psychopathy.

Tom Hardy plays a meaty supporting role, Johnny, a Marlon Brando wannabe long before Nichols shows a clip of him having an epiphany while watching the legend in “The Wild One” (1953) and mimicking his iconic response to the question, “What are you rebelling against?” If you ride hard for Hardy, then the “The Bikeriders” is a must see regardless of your interest in the subject matter. Why is Hardy a good actor? It is unclear. He is not a chameleon and is recognizably himself, but he almost wears a character like a suit. His characters do not share affectations. Each one’s mannerism is unique and has a distinct voice.

Johnny is a man suffering a midlife crisis, so he reinvents himself and transforms into an underworld general a bit astonished at the expansive breadth of his influence. Hardy seemed willing to explore the homoerotic undertones of a bunch men who prefer each other’s company over their wives at home, but Nichols keeps it chaste and implicit. Sorry, “Tom of Finland” (2017). Maybe next time. His weekend warrior badassness is impressive as it rises to the challenge of keeping more people in line, but his emerging unease recognizes that with a growth in numbers comes less of a personal relationship with his followers. Power bewilders him but not as much as it intoxicates him. He is a man who became a king by force of will and has sowed the seeds of his destruction with his might makes right ethos.

Kathy serves as the audience surrogate and cult enabler until she gets a horrific wake up call. Comer is captivating as the most unlikely, unofficial oral historian whom Cupid drafted. “The Bikeriders” rests on her shoulders, and the dialogue probably would fill a book the size of the Yellow Pages. Meeting a friend at the Stoplight Bar, oblivious to its affiliation with the club, chatty Kathy walks in while wearing white pants. A signal of her disapproval, she does not want to stay to chat, but she spots Benny across the room with the hanging light above a pool table acting as his spotlight and stays seated. Noticing her noticing him, he comes over, and she cannot suppress her smile. In need of protection after exiting the bar with her pants smudged with multiple handprints, she jumps on his bike so he can take her home then she discovers the lure of the club.

It is the roar of the pack moving en masse and the feeling of safety nestled amidst so many united, unwashed rough riders. They move with military precision through the streets and take ownership of any public space because of their sheer numbers and willingness to inflict pain. Kathy is the canary in the coalmine. If she feels safe, “the golden age of bike riders.” still exists, but it’s a tenuous safety. There is a great subplot of a young juvenile delinquent, The Kid (Toby Wallace), who feels awe upon witnessing a similar spectacle and wants to join them. Nichols makes “The Bikeriders” feel as if it was a sprawling and spontaneous gab fest between Kathy and Danny, but the film is highly structured in the way that multiple story lines are interwoven without dangling threads for any supporting character. Nichols shows The Kid’s entire story arc from wide-eyed aspirational kid admiring his idols, emulating them then exaggerating the Vandals’ characteristics that impact him the most. His narrative is a microcosm of the club’s trajectory, and he is not the only supporting character who gets such an expansive treatment in a short amount of time.

Some standouts are Michael Shannon, Nichols’ muse and regular, who plays Zipco, a man who wants to belong but only receives rejection except from the Vandals MC. He is emblematic of the men who want to belong and have a sense of purpose but cannot find it in the mainstream. Vandals MC could have just been a riding club for gear heads like Cal (an unrecognizable and well-placed Boyd Holbrook) who is obsessed with the mechanics of choppers and loves an opportunity to talk about his special interest incessantly. It was a joyous treat to get a scene stealing, ham appearance from Norman Reedus in a nice change of pace from his sullen laconic Darryl from “The Walking Dead” to Funny Sunny, an intimidating, jovial “proper fuck up” who falls in with the Vandals while wearing his club’s colors. With a wide, rotten smile, he is the only outsider who almost makes the group collectively shit their pants and enjoys horrifying the normies with harmless antics.

The engrossing performances makes “The Bikeriders” feel fresh, but the narrative is predictable. Even for someone who has not delved into the biker gang genre, it will feel familiar. It helps that the tone turns on a dime from broad, almost sitcomesque comedy to underworld violence. The characters are tidier and glossier than their antecedents even with all the bushy hairdos and perfectly placed mud and dirt. The biggest disappointment for some will be the lack of exploration into Danny’s character. Faist, who has enough charisma to make a huge impression with brief appearances and is riding the high of delivering seamless performances in “Challengers” (2024) and “West Side Story” (2021), will leave any movie goer wanting more. In one spectacular and memorable scene with Shannon, Faist delivers a brilliant line that embodies everything that Zipco hates without any trepidation and as if he was remarking on the weather. His fearlessness among violent men and his quiet confidence in himself suggests that he is the one, not Benny, whom every member of the Vandals should want to become since he lives according to his own rules, which includes forgoing masculine rituals that culminate in bloodshed and behaving like a modern-day Jacob by preferring to enter women’s spaces, kitchens and laundromats. He is more secure alone than they are as a group. It is Danny, not Kathy, who is able to resist the lure of erasure in the cult of homemade fascism and a temple to masculine dominance.

“The Bikeriders” ends on a wistful note of knowing when to let go. Those without identities who cling to the vestiges of their glory days are stuck in an earthbound hell of hanging out with men more terrifying than themselves. Those who have identities could only let go at a great physical cost once they saw the writing on the wall. While everyone wants to belong, the best lesson is to be like Danny or Sunny, a visitor who can come and go as he pleases and possessing their own autonomy. It is not a rebellion if everyone agrees to a different set of rules. Better to have no family than a dysfunctional one that can get you hurt. During Johnny’s last scene in his home, his departure is such a part of the home’s norm that when he wants to be noticed and questioned, Hardy shows Johnny silently pained at the realization of how little he impacted and abandoned the people who were his original family. There is no life-giving legacy in a male dominated institution.