You’ve seen many underdog sports movies, but what about a motorcycle-racing one starring Riverdale guy KJ Apa’s shredded abs? One Fast Move (now on Amazon Prime Video) shaves the redhead off the one-time Archie Andrews, drops him on a crotch rocket (after doing a zillion situps) and prays that that’s enough to get you to mash the play button. The movie’s banking on Apa as a headliner, because otherwise, it offers us McSteamy from Grey’s Anatomy, a gruff old-timer turn from Edward James Olmos and the type of fast-track racing action that struggles to differentiate itself from the rest of the sports-flick pack.
The Gist: PSA: If you’re participating in an illegal motorcycle street race and the cops bust you, don’t try to outrun them. You’ll end up in the clink. So why does Wes Neal (Apa) try to do exactly that? Because it’d be a very unexciting opening to a movie if he just jumped off and let ’em cuff him. Six months later, he gets out of military prison with a dishonorable discharge in his back pocket and the only thing he can say is, “When can I get my bike back?” He LIVES to motorcycle around on a motorcycle, preferably at high speeds. There’s nothing back there for him – wherever there is, because nobody wrote that part of the screenplay – so he goes over yonder – wherever yonder is, because nobody bothered to write that part either – to track down the father who abandoned him while he was still in the womb. Does he have issues about this? Oh boy does he!
And so we meet Dean (Eric Dane of Euphoria), the hard-partying pops that Wes never had. For the past 20-odd years, Dean’s been going around in circles, literally and metaphorically. Lots of motorcycle races, not many wins. And his back is effed up, to boot. He still races, but mostly he works at the speed shop owned by Abel (Olmos) and spends his evenings boozin’ and scorin’ with the ladies. Funny how Wes is a chip off the ol’ block even though he’s never even seen the ol’ block before, right? Wes shows up on Dean’s doorstep all hot and scruffy, and Dean sees an opportunity to chase a bit of secondhand glory – the type of glory he never reached as a third-rate racer. But first, Dean has to indulge the cliches of this particular brand of storytelling: Wes is too old to begin Jedi training. Wes needs to show What He’s Got. Wes needs to commit to this shit. Wes needs to listen to his old man, who’s been around the track many many times. And whaddayaknow, Wes not only does well in his very first race ever, but he goes out and wins the damn thing. Methinks he has What It Takes!
Amidst the manly-man scenes featuring all the racing and doing shots at the bar, Wes goes to the local diner so Camila (Maia Reficco, Pretty Little Liars) can serve him scrambled eggs, and look really cute while doing it. She seems to like the fact that Wes doesn’t own a t-shirt without 200 holes in it – I think they’re SPEED holes, or perhaps strategically ripped to allow free emission of abs-originated pheromones – and they hit it off. Abel likes Wes, and gives him a job at the shop because he Could Use Some Help Sweepin’ Up Around Here. And everything’s just ducky until it isn’t, since there are daddy issues to be addressed, and when exactly is Wes going to tell Camila that he’s an ex-con? Lawd, the tension, the tension! Oh, and there has to be The Big Race at the end of the movie, because a teen comedy without a third-act prom sequence obviously isn’t worth the bandwidth to stream it.
What Movies Will It Remind You Of?: One Fast Move shows little interest in deviating from the Rocky formula, as applied to the racetrack-drama formula we saw in Days of Thunder and the like.
Performance Worth Watching: Speaking of Rocky, you can’t help but appreciate Olmos in the Burgess Meredith role here – except Olmos nicely underplays instead of letting ’er rip.
Memorable Dialogue: Dean speaks in metaphors: “It’s either full throttle or full brakes, and everything in-between is for pussies.”
Sex and Skin: One semi-steamy sex scene with a bit of mutual male/female toplessness.
Our Take: Those who insist there is nothing new under the sun will find affirmation in One Fast Move, which doggedly adheres to the creeds and customs of the genre. Something I’ve learned as a fan of pro sports is, they require a degree of precision and attention to detail that sports movies often choose not to explore. They’re often bland and toothless like this one, which takes barely a passing glance at the inherent danger of motorcycle racing, and shows little interest in earning its emotional catharsis.
Think about it. Wes is doing treacherous stuff here: He straddles a machine that goes 200 mph and puts nothing between his body and the pavement. He confronts the father who never wanted him. And he opens himself up emotionally to a woman who might reject him for his rough-and-tumble ways. This is decent-enough dramatic fodder, but the film doesn’t define its characters beyond bromidic templates of sports-film formulae, and the result is a frustratingly shallow experience. The opportunity is ripe for high-stakes drama, but the film is content to zoom by this stuff like roadside scenery, and banks on the attractiveness of Apa and Reficco to fuel its romantic chemistry instead of, you know, actually writing characters with any distinctive qualities.
The plot sets up Dean as a villain of sorts, a selfish opportunist and Bad Advice Dad with a massive ego, across from Wes’ angsty angst-ridden angstiness, but they’re both generic and underwritten, boilerplate arcs showing little interest in defying cliches. You will not be surprised to learn that Abel and Camila are positive forces in Wes’ life, but they can’t offer the rush and thrills and potential for motorcycle-based glory that toxic Dean does – so Wes follows the trail of psychotherapeutic bread crumbs right into the mouth of despair. Until he doesn’t, of course. The underlying theme here is that Wes needs to get the feel of racing with a pro bike on a pro track, and he can’t do that until he sheds his many burdens – the weight of his bad-boy past, the burdens Dean foists upon him, his tendency to think too much while racing instead of just racing. This is admittedly a rather generous reading of the text; in truth, the movie doesn’t go any deeper than a quarter-inch puddle in the oil pan.
Our Call: SKIP IT. One Fast Move circles the same old sports-flick track, round and round, round and round.
John Serba is a freelance writer and film critic based in Grand Rapids, Michigan.