Simon Rex in Red Rocket (A24)

Where did writer/director Sean Baker find his ensemble, one of the best of the year? He has often used nonprofessional actors, as in Tangerine (2015) and The Florida Project (2017), in which he found a lead actor on Instagram. In Red Rocket, he has a cast that totally inhabits their roles, characters that have more depth than those in his last two films. However, he has centered this adult black comedy around an actor who has been around the pop culture scene for three decades—from an MTV VJ to a star of the Scary Movies franchise, and then some—Simon Rex, and presents him in a whole new light. Baker and co-writer Chris Bergoch have created an antagonist whose every action has a transparent, ulterior motive. Mikey (Rex) charms and repels almost in the same instant.

Fortysomething and still in great shape—well, physically—Mikey has arrived back in his sleepy Gulf Coast hometown for the first time in 20 years. On the bus ride there, he nurses a shiner, a sign of any number of altercations he may have had along the way. From the depot, he struts across town to a small cottage badly in need of a new coat of paint, the home of his estranged wife, Lexi (New York-based theater actor Bree Elrod), who slams the door in his face. She has a restraining order against him, after all, yet she becomes his first of many conquests, so to speak.

He remains on the small porch, pleading and begging to have a place to crash. The chain-smoking Lexi and her forthright mother, Lil (Brenda Deiss, a local find), let him inside only if he pays half the rent. (Privately, Lil later tells Mikey that she could really use the financial help; she doesn’t want Lexi going out tricking for the rent.) Although it is more than implied that mother and daughter are heavy substance abusers, their habits are left off screen, while Lil inadvertently becomes Mikey’s pharmaceutical provider: he steals her pills as she’s passed out in front of the TV.

He promises he will provide, but a series of job interviews fall flat. He has a 17-year employment gap and lacks any experience except where he once thrived, as adult film star Mikey Saber, which he proudly reveals to potential employers—he doesn’t bother to read any room. So, he falls back on a job he had back in high school, selling weed, now for a local family of dealers, led by the tough-as-nails Leondria (July Hill). She only agrees to use him when he exceeds her expectations—he does good business at a strip club. What she doesn’t know is that he has gone against her warnings and has started selling to the workers at the refinery, the town’s main employer, which could attract attention from the law. Meanwhile, Mikey treads water, figuring out how to make a comeback in the field he knows best.

In the most arresting and disquieting subplot, he schemes his way back to the X-rated fold of Los Angeles. At the Donut Hole, he notices a striking employee, a strawberry blonde 17-year-old, unimaginatively nicknamed Strawberry (played by 26-year-old newcomer Suzanna Son). He sees her as his meal ticket back to porn, in which he will groom her to become an adult film superstar. (Lexi used to be his frequent co-star.) Though Strawberry’s somewhat streetwise—she knows her porn stars, which makes her even more drawn to him—she’s gullible, not questioning hard why he rides a kid’s bike, among many, many red flags.

The frankness of all of the characters’ intentions is refreshing for an American film. It doesn’t at all feel watered down by a committee of producers. Nor is it salacious, but instead upfront. Mikey is often the hapless victim; he doesn’t live up to his own boasting and gets caught in his own lies. Still, he puts on a cocky (pun intended) act, yet the resulting cringy humor doesn’t deflect from his narcissism and myopic recklessness.

In his previous films, Baker has let his cast run wild, to ham it up and improvise ad nauseum. In The Florida Project, his central characters repeated similar rambunctious actions over and over again. Now, scenes are much more focused, straight to the point. They flow and build conversationally. Moments where the actors’ adlibs take over and prolong a scene occur far less here.

Additionally, Rex’s performance is one of this year’s most gratifying surprises. He brings his edgy nervous energy, which can be seen on YouTube in his interviews over the years as well as in his rap persona, “Dirt Nasty,” and he shades it with split-second reactions. His behavior turns on a dime, if that will get Mikey what he wants.

Taking place in the presidential election-focused summer of 2016 (not accidental, given the setting), Red Rocket is the least likely kitchen sink drama/dark comedy to be given the widescreen treatment (2.39:1), which is usually reserved for stories told on an epic scale. It’s a perfect fit. Baker and cinematographer Drew Daniels often filmed characters in isolation against a hazy sky or the belching smoke of the imposing refinery in the not-so-far distance. These are not your usual scenic landscapes. Imagine Edward Hopper, if he painted the industrial pockets outside urban areas. A sense of loneliness oozes from the screen. Filmed on location in Port Arthur and Texas City, Texas, this is one movie that is attuned to its environment.