Sports dramas often follow a familiar trajectory: an underdog fights against the odds, the crowd roars, redemption is won in the final seconds. Hubert Davis’ Youngblood does something far more ambitious. This is not a film about winning the big game, it’s about surviving the culture that defines it. It’s about interrogating how masculinity, violence, and identity intersect when the puck drops. With a fierce breakout performance from Ashton James and precise, empathetic direction from Davis, Youngblood emerges as one of the most affecting sports dramas in years.
Davis has carved out a space in film culture that too often sidelines us. With Youngblood, he takes a sport historically framed as “not for us” and inserts a narrative of Black identity, generational trauma, and survival. Hockey isn’t just the backdrop here — it’s the battleground for Dean Youngblood’s very sense of self.
Ashton James makes his breakout as Dean, a hockey prodigy whose raw skill is matched only by his volatility. James plays Dean like a storm in human form, coiled with intensity but flickering with vulnerability. The pressure isn’t just coming from the rink; it’s flowing directly from his father Blane, played with gravitas by Blair Underwood. Seeing Underwood in this role feels powerful. Here’s a veteran Black actor anchoring a Canadian hockey drama, embodying a father whose harshness comes from love warped by fear. His performance lands like a gut punch, a reminder of how generational expectations weigh heaviest on young Black men trying to carve their own path.
Dean’s journey is further complicated by his strained relationship with coach Murray, played by Shawn Doyle, who brings quiet depth to a character caught between skepticism and cautious hope. Doyle, also appearing in Nika & Madison at this year’s festival, is remarkable in his restraint. Murray isn’t a caricature of the tough coach; he’s a man who understands the dangers of unchecked aggression and isn’t sure if Dean has the discipline to survive, or if survival is even worth the cost.
And then there’s Jessie (Alexandra McDonald), Murray’s daughter, who becomes Dean’s lifeline outside the ice. Their relationship isn’t the shoehorned romance we so often see in sports films; it’s an exploration of how love can be grounding in the middle of chaos. McDonald infuses Jessie with warmth and sharpness, seeing Dean beyond the armor he wears in the locker room. It’s a relationship that, in Davis’ hands, reads as survival, not distraction.
The project was originally set to be directed by the late Charles Officer, one of Canada’s most essential Black filmmakers. Officer’s work (Nurse.Fighter.Boy, Unarmed Verses) was always concerned with humanity at the margins, and Davis honors that legacy with grit and grace. It’s a passing of the torch, one Black Canadian visionary to another.
The choreography is sharp, the camera tight, the hits unflinching. Davis films the game like a war zone, where each shift is a test of endurance and every drop of blood a marker of sacrifice. These sequences are not just thrilling, they’re revealing. The violence of hockey is both celebrated and critiqued, showing us the toll it exacts on the body and spirit alike.
Dean’s position as a Black man in a sport that still struggles with representation. The message is clear: he has to be tougher, faster, and harder just to be seen. This is what makes Youngblood so much more than a hockey film. It’s about masculinity as performance, about how Black boys are often told to wear toughness like armor, about how fathers pass down both their strength and their scars. Underwood embodies that generational tension perfectly, his Blane is terrifying and tender all at once, a man who believes cruelty is love because softness was never given to him. But it’s complicated because he’s dealing with the tragic loss of his wife, their mother Ruby Youngblood (Olunike Adeliyi), which can account for his tough shell.
For fans of sports dramas, this film is a must. But even if you don’t know a face-off from a penalty kill, Youngblood will resonate. It’s about hockey, yes, but more than that, it’s about how we define ourselves under pressure, how we inherit both trauma and strength, and how resilience sometimes means choosing softness over violence.
While there are a lot of aspects to be praised about this narrative, the film had some pacing issues. Near the second act, the story begins to slightly lose a bit of momentum and focus. Eventually, the movie does get back on track, but as a viewer I wasn’t as dialed in as I would have liked to have been from beginning to end. That being said, overall, it’s a solid film.
It’s a movie that honors legacy while blazing its own path, giving us characters who feel bruised, flawed, and achingly human. The films delivers a story that affirms our place in spaces where we’ve been told we don’t belong. Director Hubert Davis reclaims space in a genre that rarely sees us, giving audiences a mirror where they might least expect it. It’s the rare sports drama that feels like it was made with us in mind, proving that our stories can and should exist anywhere, even on the cold, punishing ice.
Youngblood premiered at the 2025 Toronto International Film Festival.
