Last night, as a part of my attempt to get caught up with the films of 2018, I watched White Boy Rick.
As you might guess from the title, this film is about a white boy named Rick. It’s based on the true story of Richard Wershe, Jr., who grew up on the streets of Detroit. His father sold guns out of the trunk of his car and, by the time he turned 14, Rick was running with drug dealers and street gangs. (The fact that he was white while all of his friends were black is what led to him getting his nickname.) Rick became an informant for the FBI and, according to Wershe, the government helped him build up his reputation by supplying him with the drugs that he would then sell on the streets. When the FBI eventually decided that Wershe was no longer a useful asset, he was arrested for dealing and sentenced to life in prison.
The story seems like one that has the potential to say a lot that needs to be said about not only the economic realities of life in a dying city but also about the role that race plays in America’s often misdirected “war on drugs.” Unfortunately, the film falls flat because, with the exception of a few scenes, it never really convinces us that Rick was really worthy of being the subject of a film. While the film surrounds him with interesting supporting characters, Rick himself remains something of a cipher. Rick is played by a young actor named Richie Merritt. Merritt’s has the right look for the character but you never get the feeling that there’s anything going on underneath the surface. Rick comes across as just being a moron who got lucky and then, eventually, not so lucky.
The supporting cast fares a bit better. For instance, Matthew McConaughey plays Rick’s father with just the right amount of manic energy and Bel Powley has a few harrowing scenes as Rick’s drug addicted sister. Bruce Dern and Piper Laurie don’t get to do much as Rick’s grandparents but it doesn’t matter because they’re Bruce Dern and Piper Laurie. (All Bruce Dern has to do to make a character interesting is look at the camera.) Jennifer Jason Leigh plays one of Rick’s FBI handlers with the perfect hint of subversiveness. You’re never quite sure whether she’s messing with Rick’s life because she’s incompetent or because she’s enjoying it. Unfortunately, the supporting characters are often so interesting that Rick often gets overshadowed. He’s a bystander in his own story, which may have been the film’s point but, from a storytelling point of view, it hardly makes for compelling viewing.
Admittedly, there are a few memorable scenes to be found in White Boy Rick. At one point, Rick goes to a wedding at the mayor’s mansion and he’s a sight to behold in his blue tuxedo. In another scene, it’s explained to Rick why, when it comes to being arrested, charged, and incarcerated, the stakes are very different when you’re black than when you’re white. In scenes like that, you kind of get a hint of White Boy Rick could have been if it had been centered around a more compelling character.
As it is, though, White Boy Rick is well-made but kind of dull. It’s definitely a missed opportunity.
Through the Shattered Lens 