Film

Remake of Rob Lowe’s 1986 Hockey Film Powerfully Subverts the Sports Movie as an Anti-Racist Screed

5 March 2026

Anti-Black racism is a nuisance that has pervaded the world of all sports, but in hockey its prevalence is particularly pronounced. Some estimates place the percentage of Black players in the National Hockey League at only 3–5%, and perhaps because of their relative lack of representation, the backlash against them is loud. So much so that director Hubert Davis made a 2022 documentary about it, Black Ice, and now a feature film. Youngblood, which is a direct remake of the 1986 Rob Lowe vehicle of the same name, subverts the bog-standard sports movie with a subtle, yet forceful look at this scourge, pressing its viewers to learn how to discern between the hard knocks of professional hockey and the nefariousness of bigotry.

Davis’s film is attuned to the specific dog whistle of racism, and the script, co-written by Kyle Rideout, Seneca Aaron, Josh Epstein and the late Charles Officer, smartly avoids the seduction of labeling it too clearly. Centered around eighteen-year-old prospect Dean Youngblood (Ashton James), the film utilizes many of the same scenarios of the original to slyly point at and critique a culture of double standards. Sure, the film still skates along the familiar grooves of an underdog story, but the context of the film’s production within a culture of exclusion elevates the material above its clichés.

Youngblood Is Incisive Without Forgetting To Pack the Thrills

Youngblood is one of two sons to father Blane (Blair Underwood) and mother Ruby (Oluniké Adeliyi), passionate hockey fans who coach their two boys with opposing viewpoints. Blane fears that his kids might grow up too soft and instills in them a strength to push back against derision; Ruby tells Dean to keep his head down and focus on the game. “You don’t score by fighting,” she reminds him, as she hands him a pin as a reminder of this message.

But when she suddenly passes away, Dean’s softness is stripped away, leaving only a tempestuous youngster who struggles to keep his anger in check. Though, it isn’t as if that anger is unfounded. During a minor league game, Dean is checked by an opposing player who makes ape noises at him as stands back up. Dean strikes him in the back with his stick, which promptly results in a full season suspension. Though the retaliation may have been extreme, it’s not difficult to extend sympathy to his reaction against such a gross act of taunting.

With a ton of free time on his hands, Dean helps his brother, Kelly (Emidio Lopes) and his father, now a clear alcoholic, with his construction business. It seems unlikely at this point that he may return to professional hockey, until an unexpected call from the fictional Hamilton Mustangs comes in to try out for the last remaining roster spot as the minor league team ramps up for a playoff run. Though Youngblood’s talent is undeniable, with an implication that he may even be one of the NHL’s top prospects, Coach Murray Chadwick (Shawn Doyle) is hesitant to play him, because his “situation” is “complicated.”

Youngblood is filled with little pieces of dialogue like this that point to a systemic issue, but never in ways that cast its white characters as unforgivably racist. Instead, Davis keys us into the way the same directives change meaning depending upon the person hearing it. Several times throughout the film, Youngblood is called “undisciplined,” and in one scene Chadwick suggests he is seeking “special treatment.” These are words that are tinged with racism for any Black athlete, who faces standards of success not expected from their white colleagues.

Davis could do more to accentuate the characterizations of Youngblood’s teammates, but only Sutton (Henri Picard), the team’s leading goalscorer, gets much to do. It’s a highly intelligent film, but there’s only so much Davis can do to paper over its source material’s more rote offerings. This feels especially true with Youngblood’s romance with the coach’s daughter Jesse (Alexandra McDonald), a storyline directly lifted from the 1986 film, but which always feels forced and unnecessary.

If Heated Rivalry could help with queer representation in sports, perhaps Youngblood could help crack the foundation of racism in hockey.

In spite of how incisive the film can be, one wishes there was even more honesty about the conditions for players like Youngblood. Early on in his tenure with the Mustangs, Coach Chadwick tells him that “the mustang on your chest is more important than the name on your back,” which appreciably points at baseless accusations of selfishness leveled at athletes of color, but is the sentiment even true? Does a racist fan base care about Youngblood’s attitude, or will they always see him as different?

Still, Davis plays well within the confines of his rink, and the film should give hockey and sports fans more generally something to cheer for, while lightly steering the uninitiated towards a subject they may be previously unfamiliar with. If Heated Rivalry could help with queer representation in sports, perhaps Youngblood could help crack the foundation of racism in hockey.