Bong Joon-Ho is very displeased with everything going on in the world right now. He’s been very displeased since he made “Barking Dogs Never Bite” in 2000, he grew more displeased as time went on, and it seemed that everyone else had grown to agree with him when “Parasite” won every award under the sun in 2019. After “Parasite,” the Korean auteur cashed his blank check to make one of his most out-there films to date, the just-released “Mickey 17.”
“Mickey 17,” adapted from Edward Ashton’s book “Mickey7,” is a broad sci-fi satire about a dim-witted but well-meaning guy named Mickey Barnes, who finds himself in serious debt after his friend Timo convinces him that macarons are better business than cheeseburgers. Fleeing his creditors, Mickey signs up to become an “expendable” on fanatical ex-Congressman Kenneth Marshall’s mission to space. As an expendable, Mickey is subjected to highly dangerous, often fatal menial labor. Each time he dies, a high-tech machine 3D prints him a new body.
On his 17th go-round, Mickey is left for dead in a nest of alien creatures, which is where the movie opens. Much to the surprise of Mickey 18, the new copy that’s been printed in Mickey 17’s absence, 17 survives his brush with alien life and returns to the ship. From there, the two identical Mickeys must navigate the deranged bureaucracy of Marshall’s space expedition, exacerbated by the politician’s astonishing idiocy.
This is not a subtle movie; Mark Ruffalo plays Marshall like a mix of Joel Osteen, Donald Trump and George W. Bush, while Bong says that the character was inspired by a litany of demagogic politicians from across the world. Ruffalo and Toni Collette, who plays Marshall’s wife, both embody utter boorish stupidity with a degree of contempt that’s rarely seen in films of this scale.
Their parts of the film recall Richard Kelly’s garish, sophomoric masterpiece “Southland Tales,” which satirized American politics via ridiculous performances and unbelievable vulgarity. Like Kelly’s bizarre epic, “Mickey 17” seems like a case of throwing everything at the wall and seeing what stuck. Unlike “Southland Tales,” though, Bong’s latest film doesn’t quite manage to pull it all together.
These satirical elements of “Mickey 17” are nothing short of in-your-face, a fact that will be far from surprising to anyone who’s seen Bong’s previous American films, “Snowpiercer” and “Okja.” But while “Mickey 17” lacks the nuance that made “Parasite” — and especially “Memories of Murder” — incredible, its venomous, full-throated denunciation of the current political moment’s unbelievable stupidity is very effective. There’s a certain catharsis to be found in, for example, a scene where a bloviating, racist autocrat dies in spectacular fashion, his ridiculous demise a consequence of his misplaced self-confidence and refusal to interface with reality.
Bong’s productive harnessing of his anger — and the audience’s presumed anger — at the current state of politics to endear his characters to the audience. This connection enables their arcs and emotions to resonate despite how cartoonish the movie’s protagonists are.
The film is composed of a variety of disparate, compelling threads. As per usual, Bong’s central concern is the subjugation of the working class by capitalist power structures, but there are some interesting dimensions to “Mickey 17” that are unique in his oeuvre.
One of these throughlines is Bong’s emphasis on the importance of motion pictures. Various characters in the film create and appear in videos of different types. Marshall hosts a self-serving talk show, designed to further his constituents’ cultish devotion. Timo attempts to film a violent crime in order to appease his creditors. The ship’s scientists film and document Mickey’s response to various experimental substances.
At the climax of the film, Marshall and his spiritual advisor-cum-business partner Preston discuss the importance of getting a good shot of the final battle. After all, they reason, there’s no point in doing anything unless it’s good PR.
These consistent returns to the motif of filmmaking are fascinating, but they unfortunately don’t really go anywhere. Bong doesn’t really synthesize these very different details and motifs, which is all the more bizarre given that the film’s denouement is extremely protracted, seemingly obsessed with neatly tying up every narrative loose end, no matter how inconsequential.
Despite its unfocused and messy communication of its themes, there’s still enough going on that “Mickey 17” is entertaining. Robert Pattinson is reliably exceptional as the dual Mickeys. 17 and 18 act similarly enough that they’re believable as iterations of the same person despite their very different outlooks and personalities. Pattinson is hilarious, and proves yet again that he is totally unafraid to look like an utter fool on screen. The resignation with which he greets the possibility of yet another death is both disconcerting and very funny.
As messy as the movie is, and as absurd as the situations that Mickey 17 and 18 find themselves in are, the emotional core of the film still rings true, as does much of its social commentary.
