Following the ravishing success of “Parasite” (2019), Bong Joon Ho’s almost six-year-long road to “Mickey 17,” released on March 18, 2025, has been far from smooth sailing. The same applies to the end product. Festered with delays and a barrage of gossip pieces about mixed test-screening results, this is Bong at his brashiest and most disheveled. That isn’t to discredit the intermittent moments of excellence within “Mickey 17” — an auteur of this caliber will connect on a swing or two — just don’t expect another masterpiece.
From afar, the dystopian satirical narrative framework of “Mickey 17” faintly resembles much of Bong’s filmography and his go-to thematic interests. I’d go as far as to say it’s a Hollywoodian mish-mash of the director’s previous work. Robert Pattinson’s Mickey Barnes taking part in an illegal, space-colonizing cloning process — coined not-so-subtly as an “Expendable” as he dies over and over again — echoes “Snowpiercer” (2013) with its allegory of capitalism’s exploitative, dehumanizing nature. What about its environmentalism, which subtextually spotlights the incompetence of those in power? May I direct you to: “The Host” (2006) and “Okja” (2017).
This sounds like painfully unoriginal and risk-averse storytelling, which is the last thing I want from a creatively bankrupt Hollywood. What separates “Mickey 17” from Bong’s previous feature efforts, which drown the audience with playful cynicism, is its tinge of humanity, embedding its story arc with warmhearted optimism. We’ve seen dozens of post-“Parasite” movies critique capitalism, offering largely uniform and emotionally withdrawn takes on society’s morally crooked underbelly. However, I don’t remember a film that examines this abusive dynamic through our protagonist’s complete lack of self-worth.
Granted, the origins of Mickey’s state of mind are rendered slightly muddled — at most, between an onslaught of expositional narration, “Mickey 17” merely dedicates a cursory flashback sequence to his trauma — but Pattinson effortlessly sells this miserabilism without alienating our sympathies. The opening act especially leans into this sensation thanks to Pattinson modulating his character so nonchalantly, like a skilled impression of Steve Buscemi after being kicked in the testicles. It’s quite funny and miraculously never too grating to the ears, but it’s also somewhat despairing. One only willingly endures this self-depraved hellscape when they feel that’s the life they deserve.
That lends some much-needed complexity to otherwise trite plot points, especially its “Challengers”-esque (2024) romance. Mickey’s dynamic with his security agent love interest, Nasha Barridge, played by Naomi Ackie. There’s a palpable earnestness between the two, with Mickey outright saying at one point, “What she sees in me, I got no idea. But I’m just grateful.”
However, beyond its surface-level purpose as a neat, feel-good detour, Bong cleverly uses their romance as a conduit for class solidarity. The ineptitude and narrow-minded worldview of the ruling class, epitomized by the egomaniacal Kenneth and Ylfa Marshall, played by Mark Ruffalo and Toni Collette, respectively, results in a common enemy for the citizens of this space colonial expedition, consequently leading Mickey to reject his impartial lack of agency. Few lines among this year’s releases are more emotionally gratifying than, “It’s okay for me to be happy.”
It’s a shame, however, that all this gets sidelined for something perfunctory.
In an interview with Entertainment Weekly, Bong says the antagonist of “Mickey 17,” Kenneth, is inspired by “a mix of many different politicians” and “dictators that we have seen throughout history.” Not to reject authorial interpretation, but my immediate reading of the character was an ostensible fusion of Donald Trump and Elon Musk. For one, Ruffalo’s affectations are unquestionably Trumpian — perhaps overbearingly so in its parodic execution — but even the minute details, whether it’s the quasi-Nazi salute or the character’s background as an entertainer, feel intensely reflective of our world.
But, again, the imagery and punchlines are perfunctory — like B-roll footage of a television broadcast. It would have been genuinely scathing if there was more to chew on, something that’s unfathomably absurd, and occasionally, “Mickey 17” will go beyond the skin-deep. Take the film’s dinner set piece. The scene begins with a standard shot-reverse shot between Kenneth, Ylfa, Mickey and Kai Katz, played by Anamaria Vartolomei. Then, the camera starts probing around the table, shifting between three perspectives without a single cut, as a prayer transforms into a wacky praise session. As the sequence ramps up the comedic queasiness, Mickey suddenly vomits. After shrieking in pain, we learn that the Marshalls served Mickey experimental meat and painkillers.
That’s classic Bong: a master of composition and tone-blending, skillfully unraveling information that crescendos into a repulsively inhumane revelation. “Memories of Murder” (2003) and “Parasite” are chock-full of this stuff. “Mickey 17” has two, at best.
Maybe it says a lot about the American political landscape that a quasi-Nazi salute isn’t provocative enough imagery anymore. What if this was released a year earlier, as intended? Perhaps we’d call this prophetic.
Rating: 7.5/10
