When Bong Joon Ho has something to say, he likes to say it with a megaphone.
His 2013 action-dystopia “Snowpiercer” followed the last remnants of humanity on a train separated by class. The lower classes rose up and brutally fought their way to the front of the train to take the locomotive back from their opulent overlords. It didn’t take an English major to understand the movie’s message.
Bong’s Oscar-winning masterpiece “Parasite” was different. Sure, it still tackled the themes of class struggle, but it did so elegantly, with a sharp wit and a plot that twisted and turned all in service of a singular point. It deserved all the praise it received.
But with this year’s “Mickey 17,” Bong is back to his old ways. The film, based on the book “Mickey7,” follows a man named Mickey Barnes (Robert Pattinson) as he leaves earth to escape a sadistic loan shark, joining a colony led by the authoritarian politician Kenneth Marshall (Mark Ruffalo). Except, Barnes can only leave earth if he becomes an “expendable.” Expendables are used in risky missions or scientific experiments that could gently be described as “trial and error” — they are killed over and over again and reprinted in a machine that can duplicate the original person’s memories. Scientists expose the various Mickeys to viruses, radiation, and other grisly ways to die. After Mickey 17, the 17th printing of Barnes, is left to freeze to death, the colony’s scientists print Barnes’ 18th iteration. But a group of bug-like aliens nicknamed “creepers” save Mickey 17’s life, leaving two Mickeys — who don’t like each other — wandering the colony’s spaceship.
Pattinson is the movie’s greatest strength. He plays against type, adopting a nasally, higher-pitched voice for Mickey 17 and leaning into 17’s bumbling naiveté. And he, of course, also plays Mickey 18, an aggressive and surly version of Barnes more similar to Pattinson’s other roles. He’s always interesting and funny enough to make the movie’s slightly overlong runtime not feel like a slog. Pattinson understands the kind of humor the movie should be going for, not just verbally but also in his physical comedy, especially in a darkly funny scene at dinner with Marshall. Moments in the film stand alongside Bong’s best satirical work, and it’s in no small part thanks to Pattinson.
The cinematography and production design are high-quality, as well, with the film carving out its own visual space in the sci-fi pantheon. It has a genuinely unique look to it — not quite cartoonish, but not hyper-realistic, either.
But the movie as a whole feels a bit like it’s been printed, killed, and printed again. The film’s production was fraught, being delayed multiple times due to a long editing process, and it shows. The first half of the film incorporates a voiceover narration that abruptly stops later in the movie. The always-stellar Steven Yeun plays Barnes’ “best friend,” but he is noticeably underused, only appearing in a few scenes. It feels like there’s maybe another version of the movie where Yeun’s character had a more prominent role, but it’s not this one. The film even shifts its thematic focus midway through the movie.
The questions raised by the first half of the film are genuinely interesting. Bong explores thorny ideas about death, personhood and human dignity, with Barnes wrestling with whether every clone is still “himself” or someone else entirely. Is killing an expendable murder? Does Barnes actually “die” if he will always be reprinted? These questions are fascinating, and they aren’t wholly neglected in the second half of the film, but they are certainly sidelined in a strange thematic pivot.
In the second half, Bong picks up his megaphone. He uses Marshall to make a satirical point about dictators, with Ruffalo doing an unfunny, one-note Trump impression that is exhausting by the end of the movie. “Mickey 17” isn’t saying anything particularly profound about the political realm, so it’s a shame that Bong ignored his most interesting ideas from the first half. The very end of the film seems to remember the movie’s initial cloning premise, but it’s too little too late. It comes after a long detour with the creepers in a bombastic action sequence. Bong uses this to make a thudding statement about colonization that’s been done better in other films, a disappointing finale given he is usually so adept at making smart, snarky political points.
“Mickey 17” isn’t terrible, but it maybe should have picked one idea and stuck with it. If Mickey Barnes taught us anything, it’s that more isn’t always better.