Chrome Alone

I like bike: Derek Luke and Laurence Fishburne share love for their two-wheeled friends.

The pretty but empty Biker Boyz earns its “z.”

by Ryan Godfrey

It's hard to argue with the notion that Laurence Fishburne, post-The Matrix, is the coolest person on the planet. In a black leather military jacket and obsidian shades, he's the patron saint of unflappable intensity. Put him on a humongous motorcycle and make him the papa wheelie of SoCal urban street racing, and he might as well be a new force of nature. Sadly, however, the serene force of Hurricane Larry is neither fast nor furious enough to save the blandly conventional engine-soap opera of Biker Boyz.

Based on a 2000 news feature by Michael Gougis in the now-defunct New Times Los Angeles, Boyz is the fictionalized story of the real-life, mostly black motorcycle clubs that race in and around Los Angeles. The undisputed "King of Cali" is Fishburne's Smoke, president of the Black Knights club and speedster nonpareil. The cyclists -- from all walks of life, tattoo artists to lawyers -- congregate on low-traffic city streets at night to compare chrome, taunt rivals and burn sweet, sweet rubber; racing for possession of their opponent's helmet and anywhere from a few hundred to several thousand dollars.

When beloved Black Knight Slick Will is killed in a freak racing accident, his young, photogenic son Kid (Antwone Fisher's Derek Luke) decides he doesn't want to wait his turn as a BK acolyte any longer, and forms his own moto club, Biker Boyz, with the intention of unseating Smoke as the chopper chieftain. Together with his ragtag bunch of recruits -- a white guy, a Latino, Filipino twins -- Kid works his way up the rungs of respect, street cred and consequent chances at a title match with the heretofore untouchable Smoke. (That Smoke is an enormous block of a man who towers over everyone else in frame certainly helps him in the awe-inspiring gravitas department, but size has surely gotta matter when it comes to wind resistance and acceleration. One would think in reality that the bigger they are, the slower they go.)

Although the Boyz win a few legit races, most of their brand-building stems from less-than-honest misdirection: making empty promises to Kid's mom not to race, using white-men-can't-ride tactics to hustle riders in other towns and confusing their opponents with flashy but unnecessary stunts at speed. It must be said that seeing a guy stand on the seat of his bike or balance it on its front wheel at over 100 miles per hour is pretty darn cool, and probably the only reason to see this film. Hey folks, don't try this at home, and don't behave like this, either.

It almost seems like first-time director Reggie Rock Bythewood (husband of Love & Basketball helmer Gina Prince-Bythewood, who produces) is after something of the mythic in this slickly shot but empty muscles 'n' motors fetish video: There's the mentor who must be surpassed by the novitiate, the king who must fall to ensure his kingdom's continued greatness. Of course, there's only a single-dash median between archetypical and stereotypical, and Biker Boyz crosses the line into melodrama and self-parody early and often. How noble can Bythewood's intentions be when one of Kid's biker rivals is the asinine-as-ever Kid Rock? Who's kidding who?

Biker Boyz

Directed by Reggie Rock Bythewood

A 3 Arts Entertainment Production

Opens Friday at area theaters