Ricky Film Review: Reintegration & Redemption

Second chances are rare, and Ricky explores the harsh realities of life after incarceration, led by a powerhouse performance from Stephan James.

Frett’s film is an intimate and unflinching portrait of a man caught between the past he’s trying to leave behind and a future that remains painfully uncertain.

James delivers an astounding performance, embodying Ricky with a quiet intensity that speaks volumes even when he says nothing at all. His expressive face reveals layers of longing, frustration, and hope, often in the same moment. The weight of his past is ever-present, etched into his posture and hesitant movements. It’s in the way he steps cautiously into his mother’s home, in the way he scans unfamiliar spaces, and in the way he reacts to even the smallest forms of kindness – with gratitude, but also with disbelief.

Sheryl Lee Ralph, as Ricky’s Parole Officer Joanne, makes a striking impression every time she’s on screen. Though her role is smaller, her presence looms large, bringing both warmth and authority to the film. She offers a counterbalance to Ricky’s struggles, embodying both the compassion and the hardline reality that people like him often face.

At its core, Ricky is about survival, not just in the physical sense, but emotionally and socially. The world Ricky returns to is far from forgiving. The structures meant to “rehabilitate” him seem more like barriers designed to keep him from ever truly moving forward. Employment, social reintegration, and even reconnecting with his own mother feel like insurmountable challenges. Frett makes it clear that while Ricky has served his time, society is still determined to punish him.

One of the film’s most affecting elements is how it highlights the small victories Ricky achieves. Whether it’s successfully navigating an interaction, finding moments of connection, or simply making it through another day without succumbing to the weight of his past, every step forward feels monumental. The movie forces you to root for him, even as the odds remain stacked against him.

However, Ricky does suffer from pacing issues. There are stretches where it feels stagnant, lingering a bit too long on certain beats without enough momentum to push forward. While this slow-burn approach effectively mirrors the frustrating stagnation Ricky himself experiences, it occasionally hinders the film’s emotional impact. Some moments that should hit hard lose a bit of their edge due to the uneven rhythm of the storytelling.

Despite these flaws, Ricky remains a poignant and necessary film. It’s a deeply empathetic look at the struggles of re-entry, guided by a director with a clear vision and a lead performance that commands attention. Frett’s debut is one of quiet power, and Stephan James delivers what may be one of his finest performances to date. In the end, Ricky doesn’t offer easy answers, but it does leave us with a question: how can we expect people to move forward if we refuse to let them?

Ricky had its World Premiere at the 2025 Sundance Film Festival, where it won the “US Dramatic: Directing Award”.