Bong Joon Ho’s new sci-fi comedy Mickey 17 is kinetic, visually appealing and blackly funny. It sits at the center of a revolving door of tones, from the zaniest of slapstick comedies to the most unsettling of horror films, all in service of a thought-provoking statement on the soul-crushing nature of tyrannical bureaucracy. Despite the range of moods it emulates, the movie just works, pulled together by a layered comedic performance from Robert Pattinson and the always-deft hand of Bong Joon Ho.
The film follows the simpleminded Mickey Barnes, a failed businessman who flees from his dark past on a spaceship and unwittingly joins a program to have his consciousness placed into a copy of his body each time he dies. When the 17th incarnation of Mickey is assumed to have died during a trek through the ice planet Niflheim, he returns to the ship, only to find another copy of himself. Mickey 17 must navigate the dangers of having another version of himself loose on the ship as he slowly learns the truth behind the information spread about the “creepers” native to Niflheim.
Pattinson shines in his dual role as meek simpleton Mickey 17 and the combative Mickey 18. He switches from to painfully docile to violently feral on a dime, with an absolute conviction that makes it easy to forget that these two characters are played by the same person.
The film derives its deadpan humor from the characters’ attitudes toward Mickey’s repeated deaths. Throughout the movie, he is subjected to viral infections, treacherous falls, and is even asked to remove his own suit in space so the ship’s scientists can observe the effects of radiation in space. One especially memorable gag sees the scientists in charge of “printing” Mickey’s new bodies forgetting to place any support under him as the body leaves the machine, causing the unconscious form to flop unceremoniously on the floor. In many of its funniest moments, the film portrays the dehumanization of a man whose only value in this politically authoritarian spaceship is to be abused and experimented on.
Speaking of politics, Mark Ruffalo plays against type as the bullish failed politician Kenneth Marshall, whose character is defined by his strangely intoned voice, eccentric television persona and apparently hypocritical connection to a religious organization. The details of his character draw immediate comparisons to a real-life politician who also lost reelection at around the time the script for this film (and the book on which it is based) was written. Bong Joon Ho has denied claims that Marshall was an intentional parody of President Donald Trump, but something about Marshall’s attitude toward his self-imposed role as commander of a new colony and his plan to breed a “pure” race of humans on another planet will feel to modern viewers like the type of nightmare that hardcore liberals wake from and assume really happened.
Setting aside potential controversy and the occasional lack of subtlety, the film presents an interesting take on the cruel acts of an authoritarian leader defined by his ignorance. As the film’s climax approaches, the audience can observe the influence of spectacle and private interest on Marshall’s decision-making. A religious figure appears as a PR-trained devil on Marshall’s shoulder, whispering in his ear to make a grand show of a particularly risky confrontation. Marshall’s fearmongering of the alien creepers seems to consolidate his control over the ship’s crew, appropriately portraying the “us versus them” mentality endemic to authoritarianism.
The film is not perfect. Perhaps the most glaring error of Mickey 17 is its underdevelopment of the inherent philosophical themes of its concept. The idea of copying a man in a “meat printer” raises similar questions to the one posed by Donald Davidson’s swampman; To what extent are human experiences and consciousness tied to physical forms? Although the movie persistently shows that the copies of Mickey are radically different from each other, the movie only scratches the surface of the ethical implications behind repeatedly printing out the same man with a different personality and allowing for the possibility of two to exist at the same time. This could have expanded into a clearer definition of the role fearmongering plays in dictatorial societies, driving home the point that, one must sacrifice their identity to save their life in such societies, even at the expense of the forms of abuse Mickey suffers. I can’t help but think that Mickey 17 would have been a great movie if it had explored the relationship between tyranny and the citizenry’s natural fear of death more, rather than focusing so much on the reified objects of authoritarian ignorance (the creepers).
So, yeah. It was good. You should watch it.