An Amusing Ballad of Disgrace and Destruction: 'Red Rocket' Reviewed
★★★1/2 (3.5/5)
Sean Baker’s Red Rocket is a difficult movie to write about. Of all the movies that were released in 2021, none have been able to match the unbridled conflict that is felt while watching Simon Rex’s star-making vehicle; for those who are familiar with Sean Baker’s previous work, Red Rocket’s subject matter should come as no surprise as it doesn’t wish to pander, nor does it even concern itself with the concept of being liked. Though humorous at times, it chooses to show life as candid and as ugly as it truly can be.
As exemplified in his previous movies, writer-director Sean Baker has made a name for himself as an independent filmmaker who is drawn toward stories about those who live on the fringes of American society. In an interview with Jezebel, Baker pontificates that “the more that our stories are told about people on the margins, the less they will be on the margins simply because hopefully, it’ll lead to a greater acceptance, a greater interest, a greater empathy.”
‘Empathetic’ is the best word to describe how Sean Baker’s films examine the lives of their colorful characters; from sex workers in Tangerine to destitute motel families in The Florida Project, his canon tells underserved stories from voiceless communities. That brings us to his latest, Red Rocket, the acidic tale of a charismatic dirtbag who lives in a hell of his own design.
The film is careful to do all but suggest empathy for the actions of its POV character Mikey Saber, the fast-talking antihero of Red Rocket. From the opening scene, we’re told everything we need to know about the disgraced porn actor who returns to his hometown of Texas City in search of his latest hustle, using anyone he can for his own personal gain. Rather than paint him in a light that encourages viewers to feel for the situations he finds himself in, Baker forces us into the driver’s seat, bearing witness to all of his manipulative schemes, only to watch them tumble like dominoes before our very eyes.
Despite all of his nasty schemes we’re made to voyeuristically endure, we still manage to understand how a person in Mikey’s position can live with the choices he makes. He’s portrayed as a begrudgingly lovable guy; he’s driven, magnetic, and tremendously self-confident, but at the end of the day, who wants to hire an exiled porn star to serve food or tend bar? This humanitarian dilemma is the beating heart of Sean Baker’s work, a filmmaker whose characters reflect situations that feel more than just plausible, but achingly real.
“He’s like a cute dog that pees on the rug and doesn’t know what they’re doing. He just blindly walks through life, f*cking sh*t up, but I don’t really think he has horrible intentions. He’s just surviving.”
Simon Rex | Collider
Throughout its two-hour runtime, we watch through clenched teeth as Mikey spends aimless days strutting around half-naked, bumming car rides off neighbors, selling weed to hard hats, but most damning of all, taking interest in a bright-eyed 17-year old girl who he sees as his ticket back to marginal glory in the L.A. porn scene—all while living under one roof with his estranged wife in her mother’s home. The perspective remains fixed on all of his follies that are inherently humorous and make us laugh reluctantly, but with an undercurrent of solemn repulsion for how low this man-child will inevitably sink.
At the center of Red Rocket is a career-defining performance from Simon Rex, a comedy actor who has never been so perfectly matched with a role so fitted to his larger-than-life persona. His manic energy and boundless confidence help illustrate Mikey Saber as a complex guy who flirts with the feeble balance between charm and sleaze, the kind of person you know exists in real life. Along with his standout co-stars Bree Elrod, Brenda Deiss, Brittney Rodriguez, Ethan Darbonne, and Judy Hill—most of which are Galveston natives with no prior acting experience—they bring an overlay of authenticity to this sun-baked Texas town.
Serving as a counterpoint to our washed-up antihero is breakout sensation Suzanna Son as Strawberry, the witty but wild-at-heart teenager who Mikey takes a problematic interest in. In portraying their relationship, Baker pulls no punches and chronicles their fling without regard for the illusion of moral boundaries. Despite Son being an actor in her mid-20s, we cringe watching their tryst unfold through Mikey’s male gaze because its filmmaker challenges viewers to perceive Strawberry as objectively as he does. While this illicit affair does tend to impose on the movie’s overall viewing experience, the unyielding boldness of its execution will undoubtedly have people talking about it for years to come.
“Everybody has their flaws. That’s very important for me to explore in a truthful way.”
Sean Baker | Jezebel
By using his films to inspire compassion for underserved communities, Baker implores audiences to see the inherent beauty in them that he sees. From the urban sprawl of West Hollywood to the boulevards of Kissimmee, there’s an endearing warmth in the visual depiction of his shooting locations. Despite surroundings that are often stripped down and bleak, his skies are contrastingly rendered as explosions of pastel light. In rooms filled with blunt smoke and neon-coated walls, the essence of Baker’s visual palette is ultimately a microcosm of his work at large: a clash between realism and life’s natural splendor.
Red Rocket interprets life in Texas City with organic provincial charm and a scorching Southern glow. It builds character in the environment through its honest depiction of a working-class town: power lines, trap houses, smokestacks, and donut shops, the iconography of faded Americana. They’re often captured in wide shots against lush backdrops of sunset vistas—objectively stunning but mostly unnoticed by its residents. Baker’s intentional direction of this glaring juxtaposition captures the overlooked beauty in unexpected places.
When thinking of Red Rocket in terms of relational comparison, a great place to start is the recent work of Josh and Benny Safdie. In both Good Time and Uncut Gems, the stories are driven by conniving manipulators who build towering houses of cards, only to watch them collapse in abrupt and dramatic fashion. Red Rocket pushes that envelope by stripping its drama bare in quite the literal sense.
That’s not to say Red Rocket is a crime thriller; the film is infused with sufficient buffoonery to qualify as a dark comedy at heart, but it does tend to deviate from Sean Baker’s previous work in fascinating ways. Where his movies usually strive to inspire empathy for people and communities of dire circumstance, his latest entry tests the elasticity of our empathy by rendering the perspective of a “suitcase pimp”, an irredeemable archetype that actually exists in the adult film world.
With Mikey Saber as our avatar, we’re forced to experience life as a man who lives free of any semblance of shame because he doesn’t really know any other way to live. The movie doesn’t try to pardon his horrible behavior, but rather portray it objectively. After the end credits have rolled and the NSYNC has faded out, we’re confronted by the sheer weight of its honesty. As award nomination season looms, A24’s Red Rocket should be recognized as an ambitious comedy-drama that is not without faults but as Sean Baker’s body of work would argue: which of us isn’t?