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The adverts for this film talk about it as being from Jeff Nichols, the acclaimed director of (and here’s the relevant bit) Mud and Midnight Special. I’ve thought this when they’ve done the same thing with other filmmakers too, and I know why it’s a part of the promotion, but those aren’t quite big enough movies for that statement to really land. When you say something like that you don’t want the response to be ‘the acclaimed director of what, acclaimed by who?’ Those are both good films and they were indeed celebrated in critical circles but most people don’t know that.

As it is though, Jeff Nichols reputation might be properly boosted by this film. The Bikeriders feels like it could become a classic of American cinema and based on this evidence Nichols can stand toe to toe with those directors who really are widely acclaimed.

Part of the reason that this feels like it could become a classic is because it feels a bit like movies that already are. Not to the point that there is any imitation or appropriation but the influence of people like Scorsese and De Palma is felt here. Crucially though Nichols has not followed in their footsteps, his film is not just another tale of Americana the likes of which we have seen before. In fact it feels like, after all those gangster films and westerns, that he has found and showcased a third great strand of US folklore.

This is not the first biker gang movie of course but only perhaps once has this part of American history made it into mainstream cinema. There are lots of smaller pictures, and tangental stories like Easy Rider, but I would suggest it is just 1953’s The Wild One that has truly captured this culture on screen before. What is interesting about this is that the famous Brando film is actually cited as an influence on the characters in The Bikeriders, showing more explicitly and perhaps more honestly how cinema has shaped and perpetuated the myth here compared to all those mob and cowboy flicks. There are elements of those other established genres here, there’s crime and lawlessness and the horses have just been swapped out for different steeds, but it still feels like Nichols has given us something less common with his subject matter and even moved Hollywood forward a step.

Somehow Nichols has also presents a narrative that is both epic and person centred. As much as this is a great American saga, this is also a character piece. He has managed this by maintaining a sharp focus on his central trio, Tom Hardy’s Johnny, Austen Butler’s Benny and significantly for a film that so heavily explores masculinity, its lead Jody Comer’s Kathy. In doing this Nichols has also made this an acting masterclass. The performances of these three are so good that its almost irrelevant what the story has them do. You’d want to watch it either way.

The plot, speculated around a photo book depicting bikers that camera artist Danny Lyon published in 1968, essentially tracks the growth of a motorcycle club and what its evolution and influence means for those involved. There are a couple of events you’ll see coming, like one that is pretty much inevitable from the time a relatively minor player first appears on screen. It is all captivating though, despite some sedate pacing, and honours both the moment in time it is documenting and the medium that the story is told in.

Yep, The Bikeriders sees director Jeff Nichols step up and take his place among the leaders of cinema that have come before him. With this he deservedly becomes the artist the marketing was trying to tell us he already was.

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The Ripley Factor:

There is a version of this movie that sidelines, or even excludes the Kathy character but I applaud Nichols for not making that film. By having someone who is effectively a female narrator, the stubborn, often obstinate machismo and emotional immaturity of the rest of the players is measured and as a result more palatable. In a nutshell the film needed a woman’s touch and benefits hugely from having this one.