In the mood for a goofy, broad strokes futurist satire with Robert Pattinson acting opposite himself in the icy vastness of space? Bong Joon Ho has got you covered, with his first film since the Oscar-winning ‘Parasite’.
ADVERTISEMENTIt’s been six long years since South Korean director Bong Joon Ho’s Palme d’Or and Oscar-winning Parasite, a wait not made easier by countless delays for his return to the sci-fi genre. But now it’s finally here and for his third English-language feature, he’s decided to adapt the novel “Mickey7” by Edward Ashton.
It may not be his finest, but it’s certainly the funniest film he’s made so far.
Set in 2054, we meet Mickey Barnes (Robert Pattinson) on an ice planet as he’s about to die. No biggie though. This is par for the course.
Let’s rewind a little. We find out that this hapless sweetie owed money to a terrifying loan shark back on Earth. Mickey and his business partner Timo (Steven Yeun) tried to set up a macaron business, believing they’d be bigger than burgers. Sadly, the French delicacies lost that war.
It did lead to some darling merchandising though, with ‘Macarons are not a sin’ t-shirts, so that’s something.
To escape the chainsawed goons, the dessert entrepreneurs sign on for an interplanetary expedition masterminded by failed politician turned populist-plutocrat Kenneth Marshall (Mark Ruffalo) and his gastronomically fixated wife Ylfa (Toni Collette).
Mickey stupidly agrees to be an “expendable” without reading the full application. The large print giveth and the fine print taketh away… He signs his life away to become a guinea pig sent out on repeated suicide missions. When he snuffs it – via radiation poisoning, virus infection, you name it – his body is chucked into a furnace and a new version of Mickey is bio-printed with all his memories reinstalled.
Live. Die. Repeat.
The snag is that the 17th incarnation of Mickey is left for dead in a deep crevasse on one mission by Timo (“Nice knowing you, have a nice death, see you tomorrow!”), leading to the premature creation of his 18th replica. This makes him a “multiple” – which is a breach of protocol and must end with permanent deletion.
His tripping girlfriend Nasha (Naomi Ackie) sees threesome potential; Mickey 17 tries to come up with a plan so that both versions can co-exist; Mickey 18 – a more ruthless clone – is out to seek some retribution.
Snag number 2 comes when the space colony is faced with Creepers, the bug-alien race described by Ylfa as “croissants dipped in shit” and which stand in the way of Marshall’s plans for a “pure white planet.”
Unlike Ashton’s 2022 novel, Mickey 17 doesn’t get too bogged down with what a soul can be and what it means to live. The ethical, philosophical and even religious implications are mentioned, but director Bong is keener to have a bit of fun. And so are the cast.
Pattinson is brilliant, bringing a goofball sensitivity to a role Jim Carrey would have hammed up to no end in the 90s. His stoic humility in the face of death is one of the film’s best and most tragic jokes, as is the insensitive question he constantly bats away: “What’s it like to die?” He channels Buster Keaton all the way through and aces playing both the gentle and dopey Mickey 17 (with a squeaky voice to match his often heartbreaking resignation in the face of death) and the far more antagonistic Mickey 18.
Elsewhere, Ruffalo has a blast as the egomaniacal villain with fanatical supporters, portraying Marshall as a panto composite of the space-obsessed Elon Musk and ratings goblin Donald Trump. His caricature is matched by that of his partner in ham, Collette, who has a great time as the brains-behind-the-operation wife who believes that sauce “is the litmus test of civilisation.”
Given the grim realities of living in 2025, it’s impossible not to appreciate the rather obvious echoes to contemporary worries and direct references to real-life figures – especially when it comes to authoritarianism, xenophobia and the existential malaise posed by late-stage capitalism.
ADVERTISEMENTHowever, director Bong isn’t interested in too much political commentary. Or subtlety for that matter. This loose and frequently foulmouthed corporate satire echoes some of his earlier films, specifically Okja’s oddball humour and pro-environment / pro-animal stance when it comes to the indigenous slugs populating the icy planet, as well as Snowpiercer’s chilly dystopian setting. But really, it’s Bong channelling Duncan Jones’ Moon by way of Starship Troopers.
There are moments when you wished that certain superfluous plot strands were streamlined or altogether disposed of like a Mickey iteration, in order to leave room for some deeper and darker musings about dying for a living. If you can’t die, can you truly live? But again, this isn’t that kind of movie.
Undeniably messy as Mickey 17 is, it’s an endearingly broad futurist satire that works as a metaphor for the way capitalism exploits the little guy(s) and how fascists, when stripped of their tough man acts, are the true “grotesque shit gibbons.” It’s clear there will be some snootiness coming its way considering it follows in the footsteps of the much sharper social satire Parasite; and like Ruffalo’s Trump takedown, the schtick loses steam as the runtime progresses. But if you’re looking for a delirious space oddity, you’ll bug out!
Mickey 17 is out in cinemas now.
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