It was a time of bad moustaches. It was a time of mullets. It was a time when we could imagine all of our problems solved by a “Just Say No” campaign. It was a time when a white male could somehow make it big in this country. Oh, if only that could ever happen. Actually, the rise of White Boy Rick is something of an anomaly give his lower-middle class background and the fact that the kid combines all the book smarts of Mike Tyson with all the street smarts of Celine Dion. Don’t let that put you off; he also has terrible hair, a Prince moustache, and a K-Mart wardrobe.
Richard Wershe Sr. (Matthew McConaughey) was a small-time arms dealer. It is hard to say whether the man’s business was legitimate. He didn’t have an office and the FBI watched him like Trump watches Fox News, but it looks very much like he stayed out of jail. Ergo, dad was clean, maybe? So I guess we can all be pleased as punch about his cornucopia of shady acquisitions, can we? Well gosh, that’s nice. By all appearances, Rick Wershe Jr. (Richie Merritt), honestly, looks like a sweet kid with a terrible sense of fashion. Nothing in this film will detract from that opinion; the newcomer Merritt plays Rick as a passive witness to his own life. He smiles, he observes, he stands in the background again and again. You could certainly pick him out of a line-up; the question is why you would want to.
On the premise of low funds, yet perhaps out of a latent desire for badassery, Rick Jr. hits the local pool hall with a desire to sell modified AK-47 knockoffs to some hoods he knows. It doesn’t take long to make the sale … nor does it take long for the 14-year-old to get made by the FBI, who immediately pressure the lad to do their dirty work. Yeah, I know this is the 1980s and Detroit, but it cannot possibly have been common practice for the FBI to muscle kids, can it? Wikipedia sez Rickipedia was the youngest ever FBI informant [read: that we know of]. Ah, but Ricky is shrewd; he wants a piece of the action. So, if I’ve got this right, the FBI has collected a dimwitted child and supplied him with drugs to sell while allowing him to keep the profits all in an effort to hook bigger fish. Gee, I can only see a few thousand ways in which this gambit goes south.
One cannot help but notice that when not with mullet dad, young Rick has chosen to surround himself almost entirely with African-Americans, hence White Boy Rick. I would hope his African-American counterpart, whomever that may be, would know enough to challenge the FBI. Rick consistently comes off as blissfully naïve, like a fairy-tale princess who just happens to be caught in a milieu of guns, drugs, and the winter wonderland of Detroit rather than castles, dragons, and magic spells. Take, for instance, when Rick takes the advice of peers to get a better wardrobe, so on a trip to Vegas, he acquires a gaudy gold chain dangling a Star of David roughly the size of a hubcap. Upon returning home, his father comments, “I see you’ve converted” to a blank stare. White Boy Rick has occasional humor in two flavors: naïf and dark, ideal for the family film motif promoted by the producers yet betrayed by the action.
The afterward makes it clear that White Boy Rick himself is a victim of deceit and circumstance. Oh, this has been an argument, has it? WBR doesn’t deserve his fate, is that what you’re telling me? Ok, please allow my rebuttal: yes, it seems like Rick is a nice kid. Yes, he isn’t racist and he has an almost canine-like loyalty to family and friends, which is incredible given how crappy his life has been. Yes, he is young. These are all qualities in his favor, I grant you. Let me counter with … so what? None of that has anything to do with his legal defense. Sure, all else being equal, I’d pick Rick to walk free in a heartbeat over any Neo Nazi, but look at what you have – imagine I’m a math teacher who just gave Rick a zero on a test. “He didn’t come to class. He didn’t learn the material. He didn’t answer a single question and he barely spelled his name correctly.” The film’s response seems to be on the order of, “Yeah, but he’s a really good dancer.” Rick Wershe Jr. may well have been a nice kid, but even your evidence shows he has an almost pathological indifference to that which is legal or illegal. Yes, I’m a fan of the fact that he seems docile, devil-may-care, non-violent, but he sure as Hell sold modified AK-47s to violent people who used them to murder other people. Don’t sell me the innocent boy routine when this kid is profiting off gang shootings. At the end of the day, I didn’t like the kid enough or find the dark humor in the picture satisfying enough either to exonerate White Boy Rick or give the film a pass.
♪Wake up in the morning in my Detroit city
Haven’t got the sense to know my life is shitty
Before I leave, collect some arms, and carton of smack
You know that when I’m busted, I ain’t comin’ back
I’m talkin’ manacles on my wrist, wrist
Prisoners usin’ their fist, fist
Feelin’ like Schindler’s List, list
Drop trou and assume a pose, pose
Got some brand new orange clothes, clothes
Tryin’ to make toilet wine whiskey
Rick, stop! Gotta drop
That piece you’re holdin’
Kid, cop! Cop, kid
Please to make your meetin’
Gonna check the rock
In the bag you’re holdin’
Whoa-oh oh oh
Whoa-oh oh oh ♫
Rated R, 111 Minutes
Director: Yann Demange
Writer: Andy Weiss and Logan Miller & Noah Miller
Genre: Hazing the noob
Type of being most likely to enjoy this film: White Boy Rick
Type of being least likely to enjoy this film: The FBI
♪ Parody Inspired by “TiK ToK”
After watching this the other night, I had to look up your review to see if you were also less than impressed with the message that the film wanted us to take away. Glad to see you were also disillusioned by the defence counsel’s argument.