Metacritic reviews

The ending can be read as conclusively upbeat or as corrosively ironic. Still, Youngblood is never less than fascinating, and it's a bit like the game it explores: the times you don't want to look at it are the times you can't look away. [31 Jan 1986, p.D1]

Scenes on the ice look great and Lowe truly looks like the fast and accurate son-of-a-gun hockey player he’s supposed to be.

There's nothing wrong with Hollywood's obsession with making '80s updates of the Horatio Alger story. But Youngblood doesn't come close to capturing the spunk or spirit of youthful dreams.

Youngblood is not a bad movie, and indeed has moments of real conviction. But it is doomed by its plot, which is yet another example of what I like to call the Climb from Despair to Victory (CLIDVIC, rhymes with Kid Pic).

Youngblood seems chiefly designed as a vehicle for Mr. Lowe, and Mr. Lowe seems well able to handle more demanding material. But once the film descends into the usual platitudes about doing one's best and making the grade, it begins to seem aimless.

Everything is predictable, except perhaps for the searching close-ups of the star's behind. In other respects, Lowe's performance is quite decent, and he cannot be blamed for the puerile humour of a director who considers putting false teeth into someone's beer to be a good joke.

Youngblood is little more than a star vehicle for Lowe, who handles the role well enough.

A packed convention of contemporary cliches. [31 Jan 1986, p.J]