Rick: You know, I love standing like this? I pretend I’m an eagle or an owl. Any kind of bird. Do you consider an owl a bird?
Frances: Rick, please stand back. That glass is not reinforced.
It is the perfect allegory for the illusion of freedom. Having finally purchased the skyscraper penthouse of his dreams, Rick finds it entirely hollow with no furniture, no personal belongings, no loved one to share it with. Trapped in his role, he’s physically incapable of stopping his hunt for the next monetization scheme, even if somewhere deep down he longs to fly away from the misery.
Imagine Rick dying the exact same way Frances’ mom did: trying to be a bird. Except he would never reach for anything beyond the system’s construction. He stays safe behind those sealed glass windows, unlike the open ones Frances’ mom constantly longed for, ultimately climbing out to her death.
In this dark comedy, some humans will never escape the system that has trapped them so deeply. Every character is flawed, blinded by what they believe to be the truth or by what the blue mushroom symbolizes as morality. For Rick, that means profiting off whatever the miracle mushroom can do, even if it requires selling synthetic versions stamped with Frances’ face, or peddling it as a cool new funky chip flavor. For a brief second, he pretends he actually wants to save the world, but really he is just terrified of the legal consequences of distributing an untested drug.
Frances has declared leaving for good, and Rick’s still extracting what’s left of the failed product
Rick: Whoa. Wow. That’s like spicy and sweet at the same time?
Kiki: It just – It gives your food a kick.
Rick: Like Cool Ranch Doritos, almost?
Or in another scene
Rick: Okay, say we grow a mushroom. That’s something we can’t patent. No problem. Just means other people can grow it, too. That’s fine if they do it right, but if they don’t, and people gets sick, no one knows which company to trust. We’re fucked. End of story.
Rick is a classic portrayal of a businessman who cares about nothing beyond turning a profit—a single-minded pursuit that becomes deeply comical once reduced to its barest form. Anything can be sold.
Even if there comes a moment where he’s finally had enough and wishes to escape the endless cycle of chasing the next big product, the glass will always catch him. He is a piece of the machine, valuable only until he isn’t.
The Face of the blue pill packet
Frances: Why is it my face?
Rick: You got that down-home, attainable, earthy face.
Frances: Down-home attainable? Earthy?
Rick: The kind of girl who knows something about mushrooms. Plus higher income customers like to see someone…not homely exactly, uh…trustworthy?
The blue pill represents the illusion of cure and comfort sold on the packaging when Rick knows the product they’re selling won’t deliver at all.