I wanted to love “One Fast Move”: A film review

Riders’ perspectives

In the days following the film’s debut on Amazon Prime, I received a flood of texts from riding buddies. The consensus was that the racing scenes contained too many locked-up rear wheels and not enough dragging knee pucks; too many burnouts and not enough clipped apexes. Those were but the smallest gripes. 

One scene in particular, when the protagonist rides the wrong way on an active race track, drew the ire of many of my racing friends. In another, equally egregious scene, a character yells, “Kill switch!” as they reach over and shut off an opponent's bike mid-race. I couldn't help but agree with my friends. These instances may seem harmless to the common viewer but they’re sacrilegious to the avid trackgoer. 

Let’s face it, sports movies aren’t known for their accuracy. Hollywood tends to sensationalize everything from golf to skateboarding in the name of entertainment. That’s no different here. However, “One Fast Move” is a story that’s rooted in reality, and such inaccuracies tend to take the viewer out of the experience. Instead of saying, “What a good idea,” I was left asking, “Who thought that was a good idea?”

At the same time, the racing and training scenes only comprise around 25 minutes of the 106-minute film. The audience spends the bulk of the runtime watching the human drama unfold beyond the circuit. Unfortunately, that’s where “One Fast Move” suffers most. 

Racing on Easy Street

The narrative opens on Wes (KJ Apa), a 20-something enlistee street racing his motorcycle on the Fort Riley military base. Just as our protagonist sews up a victory in a drag race, the MPs arrive, right on cue. A chase ensues, but ultimately, Wes is arrested.

At this point, two things are clear: Wes is a talented motorcyclist and he has a problem with authority. Those two elements remain intertwined throughout the film’s duration. Just not how they should.

Upon his release (bad conduct discharge), Wes finds and confronts his estranged father, Dean Miller (Eric Dane). The two bond over beers before Wes reveals that he wants to become a professional motorcycle racer, a goal that Dean, a regional club racer himself, can help his long-lost son reach. Although initially reluctant, Dean soon gives in. That quickly develops into a pattern.

During the duo’s first street riding session, Dean tells Wes, “Follow me and stay at my pace. You got that?” Wes nods in agreement and then proceeds to cross a double yellow line, nearly colliding with oncoming traffic. Dean scolds him for the “hairball crap” to which Wes responds, “So get me on the track, man.” Again, Dean acquiesces in a matter of seconds. 

It’s the same story on the track. Dean instructs Wes to take an “easy lap” so he can “read the track.” A point reiterated by one last, “Hey, easy.” Wes nods and then hurriedly lowsides into turn two. Something tells me this guy isn’t learning. His authority issues are getting in the way of his racing ambitions. And yet, despite his behavior, he keeps reaping rewards. 

Therein lies my main complaint with “One Fast Move.” Everything is handed to the protagonist. When he crashes his Gixxer, Dean gifts him a race-prepped SV650 a few scenes later. (He doesn't even have to turn a wrench.) When he needs a job, Dean's mentor and local motorcycle shop owner, Abel (Edward James Olmos), simply gives him one. (He doesn't even have to ask for it.) When he inexplicably jumps to the Supersport class, his dad’s R6 and Abel’s Daytona 765 are conveniently made available. None of these windfalls require internal or external work on Wes’ part. They're just handed over.

That’s why none of Wes' accomplishments seem believable. They don't feel earned. His very first race and race win in the Twins class, his meteoric rise to Supersport, his victory in the final race — all achieved with minimal struggle. It's like watching your nephew beat a video game on easy mode. Sure, there's lots of action but none of it's challenging enough to feel significant or interesting.

Most film narratives are driven by the main character’s successes and struggles, by the ups and down. If the plot is the heart of the movie, those plot points are the heartbeats. Maybe that’s why “One Fast Move” feels like its flatlining much of the time. It lacks struggle. It lacks stakes. And so Wes’ race wins don’t feel very victorious. 

Silver linings

“One Fast Move” isn’t without its bright spots, though. Eric Dane, KJ Apa, and Edward James Olmos turn in solid performances. Even Maia Reficco impresses as Camila, a diner waitress, single mother, and Wes’ love interest. It’s no surprise that Director Kelly Blatz, a former actor, draws the best out of his players. If only those performances were based on better-developed material. 

Risk is an inextricable part of racing. It’s a shame that “One Fast Move” doesn’t take any risks of its own. The result is a film that coasts from scene to scene, from race to race, from corner to corner. Light on the gas and light on the brakes all the way to the finish line. I wanted to love “One Fast Move,” but it looks like I’ll have to wait for the next motorcycle racing flick to come out. Whenever that is.