Film Review: Ricky Stanicky; John Cena livens up an otherwise missed opportunity of a comedy

After finding Oscar glory as a solo filmmaker – with arguably one of the more controversial Best Picture wins in the Academy’s history (see Green Book) – there’s a nice sense of coming back home in the case of Peter Farrelly helming Ricky Stanicky.

Now, it does pale in comparison to the comedy works he forged with his brother, Bobby Farrelly – I don’t think we’re likely to see another Dumb and Dumber or There’s Something About Mary anytime soon – but there’s a few smattered laughs and a certain likeability to his latest venture; even if the characters are working overtime to convince us otherwise.

Now Ricky Stanicky as a character doesn’t exist.  But it makes sense as to why Farrelly’s film – written with no less than 5 other writers – devotes its title to him, as he proved a saviour to a trio of young kids who, one Halloween night, inadvertently come close to burning down a house following a prank gone wrong; you don’t give out candy? Your house will be vandalised.

Obviously not wanting to take responsibility for their actions, the trio of kids leave behind a sweater at the scene of the crime, write the name “Ricky Stanicky” on it as a declaration of ownership, and an imaginary criminal – and lifelong “best friend” – is created in the process.  With this fake friend created, it gives the boys license to do whatever they choose; and in usual situational logic, no parent, teacher, police official or social worker bothers to actually investigate into Ricky’s whereabouts or, even, existence.

As grown-ups, the trio – Dean (Zac Efron), Wes (Jermaine Fowler) and JT (Andrew Santino) – still utilise Ricky as their get-out-of-jail-free card, and the latest event to get the Stanicky treatment is JT’s baby shower.  So they can keep track of their lies and ahead of whatever profession, or confession, Ricky has apparently experienced, the boys consult the Ricky Stanicky bible, and along with them all turning off their phones for the duration of their visits, they feel as if there’s a certain foolproofness to their latest venture.

That’s all well and good until JT’s wife (Anja Savcic) goes into labour.  With none of the boys contactable, suspicions arise, and a plan needs to be put in immediate action, or it’s admitting a lifetime of lies to their respective partners and families.

Enter Rod (John Cena, giving the film as much energy as he can), an actor of sorts who’s scraping by with his one-man show, a pornographic-inspired karaoke concoction that, given how many screenwriters are attached to this, should be much funnier than what transpires, but, my word, does Cena give it his all to make it seem so.

And that’s ultimately the problem with Ricky Stanicky as a whole, that the collective talent aren’t peddled strong enough material across the film’s (thankfully brisk) 108 minutes.  The humour, at times, feels as if it’s from another decade (jokes at the expense of the queer community don’t land as much nowadays), but then it oddly offsets this with a genuine care for the very people it happily skewered moments prior; Fowler’s Wes is queer in the film, and his relationship woes are treated with relative kindness.

Although Efron, Fowler and Santino project enough chemistry for us to believe they’re lifelong buddies, it’s Cena that ultimately drives the film.  When he’s hired by the boys to “play” Ricky, he takes it on as the best acting job he’s ever had, and, in what you’d expect from such a narrative set-up, he takes the job far too seriously and lets Ricky consume him.  Amusingly, Rod/Ricky is written as the smartest character of the bunch, and though his actions are seen as betrayal or overstepping his boundaries within the friend group, he always wants what’s best for his supposed new besties; and why should he be punished for taking advantage of a situation someone else created?

The film occasionally elicits a sporadic giggle (William H. Macy‘s hardened boss realising he makes “air dicking” gestures when he talks is an amusing running gag), and there’s a touch of Farrelly-approved gross-out humour on hand (a sequence dedicated to Jeff Ross as a drugged mohel who almost butchers JT’s son circumcision feels very on brand for the filmmaker), but overall it plays things a little too safe to make much of an impact, and that’s an area that shouldn’t be entered when it comes to a Farrelly joint.

Ultimately a missed opportunity, and a title that very much sits in the wheelhouse of the “streaming comedy”, Ricky Stanicky isn’t so much bad as it is merely just existing.  Cena continues to dominate in the comedic space, and if he wasn’t involved it’s hard to say if it would be as watchable – though there is an alternate universe where Joaquin Phoenix attached himself to the role in one of the script’s early iterations which could have been truly something – but as Ricky Stanicky stands, you may mildly remember meeting him, but he won’t leave much of a lasting impression.

TWO AND A HALF STARS (OUT OF FIVE)

Ricky Stanicky is streaming on Prime Video from March 7th, 2024.

Peter Gray

Seasoned film critic. Gives a great interview. Penchant for horror. Unashamed fan of Michelle Pfeiffer and Jason Momoa.