Even
though Ricky is only on a few episodes of In
the Flesh (even for a series with only nine episodes total, his arc is very
short-lived,) his character is still so rich.
He’s deeply flawed but sympathetic in such a rueful way – short as it
is, I love his time on the show (Rick-related spoilers.)
Rick
doesn’t appear until the second episode, but his presence is felt before
that. For both Kieren and the Macys,
Rick is a sort of spector hanging over the entire first season. His parents have spent four years mourning
him after his death in combat in Afghanistan, celebrating ghostly birthdays
with his picture on the mantle.
Meanwhile, Kieren blames himself that Rick felt he had to join the army
in the first place, and Kieren’s depression and misplaced guilt after Rick’s
death led to Kieren’s suicide. Even
without taking PDS into account, it’s a big
deal when episode 1 ends with the news that Rick is coming home.
But of
course, this is In the Flesh, and so
PDS has to come into it. Rick, the war
hero who died in combat, rose from the grave and has spent much of the past
four years as exactly the sort of “rabid” that his dad Bill has been fighting
against. This is right around the time
that people with PDS are just starting to come home from the treatment center,
and PDS folks in Roarton are in hiding for good reason; in the pilot, Bill
spearheads a raid on one of Kieren’s neighbors, dragging a woman with PDS out
into the street and shooting her in cold blood.
This is the environment, this is the family,
that the undead Rick comes home to.
But
something’s broken in Bill. His loathing
toward undead “rotters” collides with his love for Rick, and the two feelings
can’t reconcile. He sees Rick in his
flesh-toned makeup and colored contacts and goes into complete denial that Rick
has PDS. Despite the jagged-looking
scars running down his son’s face held together with surgical staples, despite knowing that Rick died four years ago,
he can’t accept it. He pretends that
everything is normal, but not in a “he’s still Rick, no matter what” way. This is in an unhealthy “nothing has changed,
you are definitely 100% living” way. He
takes Rick to the pub, glaring daggers at anyone who suggests that anything is
different about Rick and pouring drinks down him even though Rick’s undead body
can’t digest anymore and trying to do otherwise makes him sick. He praises his hero son in the same breath
that he condemns the rotter “abominations” who’ve come back to town and urges
Rick to go on patrol with him to search for rabids in the woods (and, upon finding
some, his aim is not to get them sent
to the treatment center.)
And Rick,
breaking my heart, goes along with it.
Just like he did when he was alive, joining the army to prove his
“manliness” after Bill got freaked about Rick and Kieren being too close, he
lets his dad’s prejudices dictate who he is, which absolutely keeps him from
finding peace with who he is now. He
physically can’t act like nothing’s changed, but Bill’s attitudes force him to
try, anyway, to the detriment of his own physical and mental well-being. That shot of Rick looking at himself in the
bathroom mirror, covering the scarred half of his face with one hand and trying
to smile, just kills me. In his limited
time on the show, Rick is caught between Bill and Kieren, who are both battling
for his soul. Bill is trying to make him
what he can never be again, and Kieren is trying to help him acknowledge who he
is. You know which side you want to win
out, but even as you root for Rick to go with Kieren, you know Bill won’t let
things lie.
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