Sundance 2025 – Ricky ★★★★

Released: TBC (Sundance 2025)

Director: Rashad Frett

Starring: Stephan James, Simbi Kali, Malia Johnson, Sheryl Lee Ralph, Imani Lewis, Titus Welliver, Andrene Ward-Hammond and Sean Nelson

Carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders, the eponymous Ricky is a marked example of the impact of arrested development due to youth incarceration. Ricky is a soulful portrait of this shocking development which in 2021, as the Sentencing Project reports, illustrated that black male youths were 4.7 times more likely to be incarcerated than their white counterparts. Developed from a short film bearing the same name, Ricky chooses to highlight the attempts of a young man striving to construct a life outside of confined situations and to thrive within a society that has effectively left him behind. Ricky is a powerfully moving, affecting piece which emphasises that social rituals and rites of passage are a necessary part of developing as an adult.

Ricky’s concept could be described as a profound reversal of 13 going on 30, which may be reductive yet Ricky is 30 but in the body of a 15 year old. Half of Ricky’s life was spent behind bars after being incarcerated at the age of 15! In essence, this doubly works as a coming-of-ager alongside being a slice of life drama depicting a race against time as Ricky blossoms onscreen before the audience. Subtly, the film captures this transition which also silently comments on the readjustments required by Ricky’s inner circle who have to make changes in their lives at home and work due to the disruption of prison life. The efforts made for Ricky to re-insert seamlessly in to his home emphasises that struggle to rebuild a life and the benefits of a support circle and unlikely alliances along the re-beginnings of a life.  Sometimes this works and at other times this proves to be a battle of wits for all involved, but the film sensitively tackles these emotive aspects with the potential for recidivism hanging over Ricky’s head reminiscent of the Sword of Damocles.

Ricky is an impressive debut for director Rashad Frett which has converted well in to a feature length film. For Frett it was important to tell the tale of the lived experience encountered by himself and others surrounding him who predominately belonged to Caribbean families. Indeed, there are the strong matriarchs that are often present within Caribbean households with both Simbi Kali as Ricky’s mother, Winsome, and a formidable Sheryl Lee Ralph as his parole officer embarking on tough love to ensure that temptation does not cross Ricky’s path. Yet, the film eschews stereotypes by choosing to focus on the mental and emotional effect of Ricky’s decisions.

As such, Ricky reflects a documentary style with an unfiltered aspect ratio and close up images of visceral elements. The camera fragments James’ body as he lifts weights in his garage, as a former teenage pastime, thus emphasising that physicality and outward masculinity which belies the vulnerability. However, behind closed doors, at night, there are the revelations of the impact of having slept in the dark within a confined space, with physical rituals and hand wringing suggesting coping strategies employed by Ricky to get through such periods, which are powerful elements that Frett leaves audiences to interpret and empathise. Frett carefully positions that balance between areas that affect Ricky mentally and physically but does not labour the point, preferring to gently steer the narrative towards the potential life for Ricky that could occur if the stars align.

As such, there are often hints of danger and fear surrounding Ricky’s environment to avoid falling in to that trap of recidivism. Frett emphasises those push-pull dynamics well as Ricky had not been present, as an adolescent to receive a social security number which then means that finding a job is extremely challenging. Many of us will take these elements of life for granted. Even Ricky’s younger brother jokes about having to teach Ricky to drive when conventionally this would be the domain of an older sibling imparting their knowledge to a younger sibling. Here, the situation is reversed and Ricky’s younger brother, in his absence, had to adopt that older sibling and man of the  house for that 15 year period. Therefore, Ricky’s return may be both a joyous reunion but also unsettling in many ways as others subtly had to take a secondary role once more.

James is superb in this tale of life on the other side of the prison walls after his impressive turn in If Beale Street Could Talk which equally lays bare the systemic frustrations with the high rate of incarcerated black men. Frett, here, avoids a bleak tale but there is always that threat hovering on the perimeter for that fragile life that Ricky holds on to could unravel at any given moment. The pain is etched on James’ face as he attempts to navigate his way through a strange but familiar world, where making a phone call is more complicated on a smartphone which didn’t exist before his freedom was curtailed at the age of 15.

Frett’s vision has thus crafted a tale where we root for Ricky despite his past misdemeanours; it is a film depicting a reality but also imbuing hope. Ricky presents that positivity and hope for a future with change and equality plus that upheaval to having youths treated as adults in prison. We ache with all of these characters striving to escape the trappings of their past and systemic constraints placed upon them. Ricky works well as a family drama as well as exploring the socio-political nuances of the detrimental impact of youth incarceration. Ricky may not be revolutionary but it has heart and soul to force us to re-examine the lingering damage left behind following penal justice meted out disproportionately and will not leave a dry eye in the house.