Mickey 17, known as an “expendable,” goes on a dangerous journey to colonize an ice planet.
Chuck says:
News of reshoots and long nights in the editing room, as well as ever-changing release dates are hardly good omens regarding any film. Yet, such difficulties plagued director Bong Joon Ho’s “Mickey 17,” an adaptation of the novel “Mickey 7” by Edward Ashton. The one-step-forward-two-steps-back progress of the filmmaker’s follow-up to his Oscar-winning “Parasite” made for dire expectations regarding its quality. Thankfully such concerns have proven unfounded as “Mickey” is a wholly engaging, if at times rambling, comedy-sci-fi-satire hybrid anchored by a dynamic performance(s) from Robert Pattinson, who tackles multiple roles with gleeful abandon.
Sliding back and forth between past and present, we find Mickey Barnes (Pattinson) in dire straits as the film opens. A worker for the Marshall Corporation on the planet Nilfheim, our rather daft hero is at the bottom of an icy chasm, about to be eaten by a herd of creatures known as “creepers.” Seems that as we’re getting to know him, Mickey’s about to make his exit.
However, just as his demise is imminent, we get the first of many flashbacks and see that Mickey and his friend Timo (Steven Yeun) were once entrepreneurs on Earth, where their macaron company went belly up. Unable to repay money borrowed from a ruthless loan shark, they both signed up for off-world employment. However, in his haste, Mickey volunteers to be an “expendable,” a high-demand position with few takers. He soon finds out why, as these employees are put in the most dangerous situations and sometimes experimented on as it makes no difference if they die or not. It’s been stipulated they can be cloned upon death, as many times as necessary.
The 17th version of Mickey is the one we first encounter and presumed dead, an 18th iteration is made. This is forbidden and it soon becomes obvious why, as complications ensue with two Mickeys on the loose.
There’s a sense of knowing buffoonery to the premise, a conceit that Pattinson runs with. His two Mickeys are opposite sides of the same coin, the slightly younger a rather dense, well-meaning fellow, the elder, a hedonistic, violent version whose temper gets them both in trouble on numerous occasions.
Joon Ho adeptly combines slapstick humor with pointed satire, as the character of Kenneth Marshall is obviously inspired by Donald Trump. As clueless as he is arrogant, the megalomaniac is intent on colonizing Nilfheim, and populating it with a pure race, spawned from those he’s chosen exclusively for that task. As Marshall, Mark Ruffalo, outfitted with a comical overbite, rends the scenery with grand, hollow pronouncements and outsized gestures, both employed to obscure his hollow moral bearing. As his wife Ylfa, Toni Collette does her best to keep up with his hammy approach and for the most part succeeds. Her statement that “sauces are the litmus test of any society,” is priceless.
Once we pass the ninety-minute mark, it becomes obvious Joon Ho has perhaps bitten off more than he can chew. In addition to the two Mickey problem and the colonization scheme, he delves into our hero’s relationship with his girlfriend Nasha (Naomi Ackie), a flirtation with a coworker, Kai (Anamaria Vartolomei), a scheme to traffic a powerful, illicit drug, a goon sent from Earth to settle up Mickey and Timo’s debt and a plan to eradicate the creepers.
There are a great many moving parts, some of which the film would be just fine without. And while I was conscious that the movie was too long, this didn’t grate on me as so many other bloated features do. The immersive quality of the environment Joon Ho creates, and Pattinson’s entertaining turn kept me hooked despite some scenes running too long and a climax that could have been cut by ten minutes.
In tone and approach, “Mickey” most closely resembles Joon Ho’s “The Host,” yet thematically it is in keeping with all his films in its examination of the disparity between the classes. Much like Mickey, we are all seen as expendable in today’s world, only valued as long as we toe the line and pay our taxes. The everyday compromises we make aren’t as dire as those facing Joon Ho’s hero, yet their cumulative effect takes its toll, much as it does on him. With each successive cloning of Mickey, he becomes a paler version of his former self, much as we become a less moral version of ourselves with each concession we make. Though it sports a darkly comic sensibility, in the end “Mickey 17” reminds us of the necessity of staying true to ourselves, despite economic inequities and political oppression.
