“Hey Mickey – what’s it feel like to die?”
In “Mickey 17,” people are constantly asking Mickey (Robert Pattinson) some version of this question, sometimes with existential worry, but more often than not with simple morbid curiosity. In a not-so-distant future where ex-politicians lead their legions of followers into space to colonize far off planets (a reality that feels a little too close for comfort, unfortunately), Mickey is an Expendable. In other words, it’s his job to die.
Mickey doesn’t like dying – understandable, when he’s constantly asked to do things like measure how quickly prolonged exposure to radiation will make him go blind. Every time Mickey dies, he’s brought back using cloning technology (hence the number 17) and sent to do it all over again. Who would sign up for something like this, you ask? Well, someone like Mickey – on the run from loansharks, no family left to turn to, and a sad sack with self-esteem issues on the best of days.
But not all Mickeys are made the same. So what happens when a version of Mickey comes along that actually has something like a sense of self worth?
“Mickey 17” is director Bong Joon Ho’s direct follow up to the Oscar juggernaut “Parasite,” but it feels more akin to something like 2017’s “Okja” – a little sillier, a little messier, and a lot more gonzo in its execution. But even with all its eccentricity, “Okja” has a beating heart that slightly eludes “Mickey 17.” In lacking that emotional core and feeling just a bit messy in its comedic construction, “Mickey 17” leaves you laughing, but wanting just a little more from one of our finest filmmakers.
“Mickey 17” starts with the seventeenth iteration of Mickey trapped in an ice cave on Nilfheim, the planet that an egomaniacal politician named Kenneth Marshall (Mark Ruffalo) is trying to colonize (I’ll give you one guess who Ruffalo is doing an impression of here – it rhymes with Rump). Mickey 17 is certain that the creatures who inhabit the planet – aptly called creepers – are going to kill him, and patiently waits for death. But when the creatures save him, he arrives back at his ship and realizes that the scientists in charge of his cloning have already made another, more violent and blustering copy – Mickey 18. When Marshall starts a war with the creepers, the Mickeys team up with Nasha (Naomi Ackie), Mickey’s girlfriend, to save the day.
The conflict between Mickey 17 and Mickey 18 is a manifestation of Mickey’s inner conflict, but it also serves as a light commentary on the hero tropes that usually come along with this type of storytelling. Mickey 17 is not your typical science fiction hero – he’s quite passive, content to mope through the world and let whatever happens, happen. As the film progresses, the rising stakes and Mickey 18’s bravado start to have an effect on him.
But there are some characteristics of the hero character that Mickey 17 needs no assistance with. As most heroes are, Mickey 17 is haunted by past trauma, in this case his belief that he accidentally killed his mother as a child. He views every death as an Expendable as a form of punishment. That type of hero beat can feel trite, and when it comes up in “Mickey 17,” it plays as annoying rather than sympathetic, partially due to Pattinson’s penchant for sounding like a whiny baby. But there’s a moment toward the end where, when Mickey 17 brings up this moment yet again – typical hero self-castigation stuff – and Mickey 18 finally breaks. “This again!” he groans, before chastising his counterpart for letting something like that haunt him for as long as it has. It’s a wonderful moment, both in terms of Mickey’s ability to forgive himself, and Bong’s ability to recognize and subvert tropes.
But, as fun as the dynamic between the Mickeys is, there’s a tension between the different types of comedy in “Mickey 17” that just doesn’t quite gel. On one end, you’ve got Pattinson doing a pretty great impression of Seymour from “Little Shop of Horrors,” with added wacky hijinks and slapstick physicality (there’s a moment where Mickey falls down the stairs that’s among one of the funniest sight gags of the year). On the other hand, you have Ruffalo and Toni Collette (playing the politician’s wife) taking on the film’s political satire. It’s during the more political plotlines that it starts to feel like “Mickey 17” left a ton on the cutting room floor – there’s a particular character who is asked to spearhead the new colony’s breeding program, something that seems like it might be important, and then disappears for the entire latter half of the movie.
What’s more than that, as funny as Ruffalo and Collette are – and as relevant as the Trump commentary might feel – the humor itself is a little too broad to make a point other than, “Isn’t this guy stupid?” Maybe that’s the point, but in contrast with the anime-influenced, physical specificity of what Pattinson is doing, it falls a little flat.
The real highlight of “Mickey 17” beyond Pattinson’s performance is the character design. Jang Hee Chul, who also worked with Bong on “Okja,” has a real talent for making audiences fall in love with the strangest looking of creatures, and the creepers are no exception. They look like little armadillo worms, the bigger ones covered in a light smattering of fur – the mother the biggest and the woolliest of all. They’re not only strangely adorable, but also incredibly expressive. When they save Mickey 17 from certain death, he yells at them, not quite understanding what they’ve just done for him. The camera cuts to the creepers sitting in silence, and although you can’t see their eyes, their entire aura is simply radiating the phrase, “What an idiot.”
But once again, beyond the appeal of the creepers – and the panic you’re bound to feel whenever any animal-like creature is in peril – there’s not too much to hold onto emotionally in “Mickey 17.” Mickey and Nasha’s relationship has its moments, but it’s a little shunted to the side by the end in favor of the dual Mickey dynamic, which – while funny – rushes towards an ostensibly moving climax that doesn’t feel quite earned.