Red Rocket

Probing fractured family dynamics with unsettling intimacy and a humorous wink, Red Rocket examines illusions and false fronts through characters stuck in a perpetual cycle of bad decisions.

The gritty low-budget saga finds director Sean Baker (The Florida Project) again working in his blue-collar comfort zone, exploring outsiders trying to survive on the socioeconomic margins.

Set amid the political turmoil of 2016, the film follows Mikey (Simon Rex), a washed-up porn star who stumbles back to his south Texas hometown to beg for forgiveness — and a place to stay — from his estranged wife (Bree Elrod) and beleaguered mother-in-law (Brenda Deiss) in their mobile home.

“I don’t want to make you uncomfortable,” he explains in trying to rationalize his behavior both to his hosts and to the audience. “I’m here to help.”

Of course, that’s not true, since Mikey is really a leech who charms and then exploits those more vulnerable than him. Among his targets are a sad-sack neighbor (Ethan Darbone) who becomes Mikey’s driver and confidant, and a young donut-shop clerk named Strawberry (Suzanna Son).

Beneath his surface swagger, he’s a pitiful, desperate grifter who seems to have left town on bad terms with just about everyone. And his attempts to start over occasionally feel sincere — one prospective employer tells him that he could be hired if he was an ex-con, but when Mikey gets honest, the line is drawn.

Still, details are gradually revealed about Mikey’s past that somehow make him even more off-putting. But will his ulterior motives catch up to him before he wreaks more havoc?

Even when the sharply crafted screenplay by Baker and writing partner Chris Bergoch veers into melodrama, the characters and performances from a mostly unheralded cast convey a raw authenticity.

Rex (best known for the Scary Movie franchise) offers a captivating portrayal of a self-absorbed chatterbox and slacker who revels in resentment. The broader social context is muddled, although Red Rocket injects welcome moments of wry humor without resorting to mockery.

The result is a quietly powerful character study that builds hard-earned sympathy for those so often overlooked or dismissed as trailer trash. Deep down, you might find more in common than you think, or want.

Rated R, 128 minutes.