Ratboy (1986)

Ratboy is the kind of gloriously strange 1980s curio that feels like a modern fairy tale smuggled into a crime-comedy, with a tender heart beating beneath its scruffy exterior. It takes a premise that could’ve been pure gimmick and instead leans into empathy and social satire, observing how people commodify the “other” while still finding room for genuine pathos. The vibe is offbeat and slightly grimy, but it’s also oddly charming—more touching than you expect, and willing to sit with uncomfortable feelings without turning cynical. It won’t be for everyone, especially if you need polish or conventional storytelling, but if you’re drawn to misunderstood, emotionally resonant oddities, Ratboy is a memorable little left-field discovery.

Ratboy wants to be a quirky, offbeat satire about exploitation and fame, with a dash of crime-story sleaze and outsider sympathy. The problem is it rarely gels: the tone lurches between oddball comedy and dreary drama, the plot wanders without building real momentum, and the performances—especially from Sondra Locke—can feel thin rather than intriguingly strange. If you need a clear narrative, consistent mood, or sharp wit to stay invested, this will likely come off as messy and dull. There is a faint cult-movie curiosity in its premise and a few moments of uneasy atmosphere, but it’s more interesting on paper than on screen.