What's in the Box

Director Sean Baker describes the basis of Red Rocket as a character study of a “suitcase pimp”; an obscure, adult industry related term for a man who scrounges off female talent. It’s derogatory, conveyed by the way it is spat out condemningly at the film’s central character during his moment of reckoning, and Red Rocket certainly stretches the concept of the antihero to the brink of its elastic limit.

It’s summer 2016 in a Texas City that is being swept up in Trumpmania, and washed-up former porn actor Mikey Sabre (Simon Rex) returns to his hometown to general perplexion and apprehension from pretty much everyone he initially encounters, especially in the case of his estranged wife Lexi (Bree Elrond). His years as an LA hotshot are well past him and now he must rebuild his life, from the doldrums of being woken up daily by his mother-in-law commandeering the sofa to watch trashy daytime TV. Yet, slowly but surely, he manages to put his slimy charm to good use; using marijuana money to pay the rent, reacquainting himself with his next-door neighbour Lonnie and slyly gaining the affections of 17-year-old Raylee, also known as “Strawberry” (Suzanna Son), for whom he has transformative plans.

The risk of the film is that it hinges heavily on Simon Rex’s central performance, and specifically for him to get the balancing act right between conveying the seductive charisma and big-kid energy that Mikey undoubtedly possesses, alongside the innate nastiness of his poisonous self-absorption. Mercifully, Rex is tremendous in the lead role. Baker highlighted his comic timing within Vine culture as the thing that alerted him to Rex’s potential, but for me it’s his physicality that stands out. He’s has a certain cock-eyed way of standing when he has done something sketchy – the shiftiness of which is exacerbated by Drew Daniels’ grainy cinematography. There are also a couple of juxtaposing incidents where Rex uses his body to full emotive effect. After escaping a particularly sticky situation, he rides his bike in such a breezy manner that you feel as if he might melt into the handlebars. Contrastingly, there’s a moment of revelation on a rollercoaster where he seizes up in shock, paralysed in his own deception.

It becomes tougher to watch the longer Mikey and Strawberry’s relationship is delved into, largely because of its exploitative nature. Mikey loudly celebrates that, upon turning 18, she is “legal as an eagle”, and, rather than sexual gratification, this plays into his desire to commoditise her as a porn actress and reintegrate himself within this superficial industry. The script is subtle enough without being problematically ambiguous in its appraisal of Mikey; certain references to Strawberry’s drawling accent and how their first moment of domestic intimacy is turned into an amateur porno flick are enough to cut through the sugary sweet moments. Son does well though to make sure Strawberry is not one-dimensional in her naivety – there’s a spunkiness about her which makes her somewhat complicit in this distasteful alliance.

The film’s ending has a cathartic pleasure to it, as well as a poignancy for Rex’s Mikey – no matter how hard he strives, he ultimately cannot shake the tag of the “suitcase pimp”.