Mickey 17

It’s hard to describe “Mickey 17” without sounding completely unhinged. Bong Joon-ho, the mastermind behind Parasite (2019), has crafted a film so odd, so unrelenting in its dystopian goofy satire, that it feels like a fever dream of the world we’re currently drowning in. 

Based on Edward Ashton’s Mickey7, this is a sci-fi odyssey about cloning, capitalism, colonialism, and the never-ending cycle of human stupidity. It’s not just about survival - it’s about what we’re willing to sacrifice (or, more accurately, who we’re willing to sacrifice) in the name of progress.

Robert Pattinson plays Mickey Barnes, an “Expendable” with one job: die. Over and over. His consciousness is uploaded, his body is reprinted, and he’s sent out again to suffer for the sake of humanity’s colonization of the ice planet Niflheim. 

He’s cannon fodder for science experiments, the guy who breathes the toxic air first. The one who checks if a vaccine is lethal. And because he’s been “reprinted” so many times, he’s developed a sense of detachment - his own existence feels more like a bureaucratic inconvenience than anything sacred. 

But then something goes wrong. Two Mickeys exist at the same time: the pragmatic, pacifist Mickey 17 and the more ruthless, violent Mickey 18. And suddenly, the fight isn’t just for survival - it’s for identity, agency, and what it really means to be human.

Let’s be honest...“Mickey 17” is weird...Not in a cutesy, quirky way, but in an unsettling, disorienting way that makes you question if you actually understand the movie while watching it. 

Bong doesn’t hold your hand - this is an ambitious, sprawling narrative packed with sharp political commentary on the post-Trump era, South Korea’s government, and ongoing social issues. Its sweeping visuals create a world that’s, both eerily alien and disturbingly familiar.

The pacing is uneven, the runtime overstretched, and the sheer amount of ideas crammed into it can be overwhelming. But here’s the thing: IT WORKS. The disorientation is intentional. The absurdity mirrors the absurdity of our own reality.

Pattinson delivers a career-best performance (yes, even better than The Lighthouse). His ability to oscillate between existential exhaustion, dark humour, and sheer terror makes Mickey, both relatable and deeply tragic. Naomi Ackie, Steven Yeun, Mark Ruffalo, and Toni Collette round out an insanely stellar cast, each bringing their A-game to characters who, in lesser hands, might have felt one-note. 

Special mention goes to Collette, whose portrayal of Ylfa - Kenneth’s Machiavellian wife - feels like a twisted blend of Lady Macbeth and a Michelin-star chef obsessed with perfecting sauces.

And then there’s the planet itself. The native creatures - massive, woolly centipede-like beings - are first framed as terrifying, only to be revealed as intelligent, peaceful beings just trying to defend their home. The colonial allegory is impossible to ignore.

The film is a brutal critique of how power manufactures fear, and how propaganda turns indigenous populations into “monsters” to justify exploitation. 

Kenneth (Ruffalo) plays the ultimate dictator, stoking division and selling the illusion of progress while reducing women to mere baby-makers, treating them as expendable. But Bong, as always, finds complexity even in the villains.

The two Mickeys - one advocating for peace, the other for rebellion - are where the film gets really interesting. It’s a battle between submission and resistance, between working within the system and tearing it down. It’s a question we face every day. Can we create change peacefully, or is a more forceful approach necessary?

The film doesn’t offer easy answers, but it does suggest that both sides of that struggle exist within all of us.

For all its bleakness, “Mickey 17” closes on a note of cautious hope. Justice, in some form, prevails. But as the credits rolled, I felt a familiar emptiness creep in. Because of all the film’s satire, it never stops reflecting on our own broken world. 

The difference is, that Bong seems to believe there’s still a way out. And maybe that’s the kind of delusion we need right now.