‘Motorheads’ Review: Ryan Phillippe in Amazon’s Surprisingly Sweet Teen Grease Monkey Drama

In some instances of Amazon’s “Motorheads”, particularly during the debut directed by Neil Burger, there is a sense that one wasn’t expected to closely follow along, or at least as if the series assumes you hadn’t been.

In this story, dramatic musical cues signal when to feel certain emotions, conversations often contain unnecessary background information, such as a girl telling her boyfriend about his deceased mother, and the soundtrack is filled with popular, expensive songs from artists like Benson Boone, Teddy Swims, and Olivia Rodrigo. All these elements work together to keep your focus on the show, even if you’re multitasking by watching TikTok videos at the same time.

It’s quite possible that these nudges could be beneficial or even essential, considering a significant portion of the Gen Z audience might be watching while glued to their phones. However, the forceful manner in which Motorheads employs them indicates a larger disappointment than what the show ultimately delivers. Beneath its clumsy dialogue and heavy-handed musical cues lies an engaging teen drama, supported by a charming cast, palpable chemistry, and an endearing enthusiasm for street racing.

Motorheads stands out from similar adolescent soap operas by subtly distinguishing itself, much like how The Fast and the Furious series evolved before Dominic Toretto turned into a globe-trotting superhero. If you envision the early episodes of The Fast and the Furious set in a small Rust Belt town instead of an international backdrop, that’s roughly what Motorheads is like.

Stepping into the lush, automotive-loving town of Ironwood, Pennsylvania, I, along with my twin sibling, Caitlyn (Melissa Collazo) and Zac (Michael Cimino), find ourselves transplanted from our not-so-car-friendly Brooklyn home. Despite this sudden move, orchestrated by our mom, Samantha (Nathalie Kelley), who’s moved us in with her mechanic brother-in-law Logan (Ryan Phillippe), the reasons behind these decisions remain somewhat vague over the course of 10 hour-long episodes. However, the whys don’t really matter much to us car enthusiasts, as we quickly immerse ourselves in our newfound passion for vehicles.

Essentially, what’s significant is that their arrival stirs up the social landscape, and this isn’t just because Zac and Caitlyn are connected to Christian, a well-known hometown racing icon who disappeared 17 years ago following a bank robbery gone awry. Ryan’s son, Deacon Phillippe, portrays Christian in flashbacks.

Motorheads aren’t exactly breaking new ground, but they’re not trying to either. Right away, the newcomers bond with the school outcasts, Marcel, the socially awkward nerd, and Curtis, who isn’t entirely a bad boy. They quickly find themselves at odds with the popular crowd, spearheaded by Harris, a Porsche-driving bully. As the season progresses, friendships and rivalries are solidified during a wild house party thrown by Harris’ wealthy girlfriend Alicia in episode one. Zac immediately takes a liking to her, igniting the first of several love triangles that will intertwine throughout the series.

In essence, almost all of the parents of these children share a past filled with unresolved animosities, unfulfilled love stories, and hidden perils. These elements are gradually revealed in the flashbacks that kickstart each episode, creating an eerie sense of history mirroring itself. A father even points out this recurring theme, ensuring no viewer overlooks the striking similarities between their past and the current drama unfolding among the kids.

However, predictability may be seen more as a flaw than an asset in this series. Beneath its rough exterior, Motorheads offers a comforting and familiar feeling, surprisingly filled with heart. The primary appeal lies not in the romantic entanglements (a bit of flirting and kissing, but nothing explicit) or the crime-drama aspects (illegal speeding and theft in both timelines, but no graphic violence), but in the straightforward joy of being around characters who genuinely seem to enjoy each other’s company.

Although Ryan Phillippe is undeniably the most recognized actor in this show, and he effectively portrays the tough yet compassionate mentor offering valuable guidance to his nephew, niece, and their peers on various subjects, including automotive issues, it’s primarily the younger cast who keep the series grounded.

Caitlyn, Zac, Curtis, and Marcel appear quite ordinary and predictable, with the latter two feeling rather stereotypical of teen-drama characters. On the other hand, Collazo, Cimino, Shelton, and Cantu exhibit a relaxed camaraderie that can be amusing at times. Creator John A. Norris (of All American) takes effort to gradually develop their relationships, rather than abruptly introducing emotional turmoil into their lives. The quartet is enjoyable company, making it simple to cheer for them despite their occasional lapses into immature acts of selfishness or risky behavior, often shown by Zac.

After that, let’s talk about the thrilling rides. Even if you don’t have a clue about automobiles, you can’t help but appreciate the spectacle of vibrant Corvettes, Mazdas, and Mustangs soaring over the asphalt, or empathize with Caitlyn and Curtis’ joy when they locate the ideal components to restore their father’s classic banana-yellow Dodge Charger. It might be a stretch to claim that car enthusiasts could convert a hater into a NASCAR fan, but it certainly clarifies why the entire town of Ironwood adores cars as much as Dillon, Texas, once idolized football or Lima, Ohio, became excessively passionate about high school a cappella groups.

As the story unfolds across the seasons, it becomes increasingly complex with intense criminal plots and emotionally charged pasts, culminating in two shocking finale cliffhangers. Yet, it manages to maintain a generally lighthearted tone throughout, which is likely a smart decision. This allows viewers to glide over details that may seem questionable (some of the characters occasionally work at the local diner, appearing for brief moments whenever they choose) and avoid the potential traps of sentimentality and pomposity.

This isn’t groundbreaking or revolutionary, but it offers solid, dependable enjoyment, even if the characters use corny metaphors about accelerating in both love and driving. It’s entertainment that you can immerse yourself in wholeheartedly – worth setting aside your phone for a dedicated viewing or reading.

Read More

2025-05-20 02:54