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REVIEW: Mickey 17

Coming into Mickey 17 having not read the source material by Edward Ashton, I can easily see why this movie spoke to the sensibilities of Bong Joon Ho, particularly in the wake of his historic Academy Award win five years ago. Published in 2022, it feels like Ashton could have been doing his Oscars homework when he conceived of the story--a sort of mashup of Parasite, Aliens, and Charlie Chaplin's Modern Times.

Desperate to escape planet earth, Mickey applies for a special assignment as an "expendable," a person whose sole requirement is to perform tasks too dangerous for normal consideration--the kind that absolutely arise in an outer space voyage to colonize other planets. It is expected that Mickey expire during his line of duty, but never fear. The computer has all his data and can simply reproduce him in the lab the next day for his next assignment. Rinse and repeat. It's a system that we are assured cannot fail ... until of course it does. 

I'll admit my knowledge of Mr. Pattinson's filmography is not comprehensive, but based on his performances in the likes of "Harry Potter" and Tenet, all this time I guess I thought that Robert Pattinson's voice came with only one setting. So I wasn't sure how to react the first time Mickey 17's chirping hit my ears and I was told that this was our current Batman. My sources tell me that this was neither a computer effect nor some form of ventriloquistic sorcery, but Pattinson's actual performance. For that, and for tracking our perpetually displaced Mickey across the whole two-hour space, I guess I can only tip my hat to him. 

There is a similar, though milder, transformation with Mark Ruffalo as our buffoon politician who always speaks like he's horking down mashed potatoes yet still winds up capturing the attention of all the dum-dums in the room. This sort of transformation is seldom needed for Toni Collette, featuring here as Ruffalo's stylish yet vapid wife. She manages to stay squarely herself, and the role just conforms to her shape, and it works as well here as it does in any of her films.

Anyways, subtlety has never really been Bong Joon Ho's interest. That's certainly the case here, where the dutiful disciples of airheaded Politician Kenneth Marshall are literally wearing red hats. The story graciously manages to be just the right kind of petty. The middle act is admittedly somewhat meandery and unanchored. But even at its least focused, the story pulls off being sordid and stupid enough to speak to the moment. Stories like this that showcase a world without self-awareness or cynicism remind us why those qualities are such essential tools and why we should fight to preserve them.

And this is where the film starts to fold in on itself, such that I can't really decide whether or not the film pulls off what it set out to do. Many parts of this film, especially its ending, wind up making both more and less sense in the wake of a certain president's reelection.

But of course, that's all assuming that Bong Joon Ho is even aiming to serve his signature cold hard truth about the state of the union at all. I don' know. Is defeatism the only canvas for painting the modern scene? ... 

Excuse me, folks, I have a new assignment.

        --The Professor

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