Mladen and Del review ‘Mickey 17’

Image by Warner Bros.

“Mickey 17” Starring Robert Pattinson as Mickey “Mickey 17” Barnes, Naomi “Gonna Kick Your Ass” Ackie as Nasha, Mark Ruffalo as Kenneth “Trump Christian” Marshall, Toni “Moms for Liberty Prototype” Collette, and others. (Names in parentheses, barring Pattinson’s, ascribed by reviewer Mladen Rudman). Directed by Bong Joon Ho. 2 hours, 17 minutes. Rated R. In theaters.

Plot summary: A slave finds freedom. A love story. An allegory for the way aliens are treated by the White Man. Religion is idolatry because it’s always channeled by a pontificator who places himself above God or whatever deity a mass of people worship. Take your pick. Basically, it’s about a small-time con artist who signs up to be an “expendable,” somebody who can be cloned through 3-D printing, aboard a ship headed to the planet Niflheim. Through his deaths and rebirths he grows into something more than an expendable, as do some of the people around him.

Mladen’s take

“Mickey 17” should’ve been titled “Mickey Mouse 17,” as in something seriously malfunctioned during the planning or production of this film. I say that with a broken heart and a mound of disappointment because I adore all the other works of cinema directed by Bong Joon Ho. “The Host (2006),” my first dose of Bong, is masterful sci-fi horror tinged with political satire. “Snowpiercer (2013)” is a joyously brutal, no-holds-barred interpretation of social class warfare. “Okja (2017)” is a whimsical and realistic take on mankind’s manipulation of nature and treatment of livestock. And, yes, “Parasite (2019),” which earned the Oscar for Best Motion Picture of Year.

“Mickey 17” is a good film but, I suspect, to most people it won’t seem to be. Keep in mind that I liked the film because I have a very low bar for what qualifies as good.  “Mickey 17” provoked thought and my thought was, “Why didn’t I like this film when I should have?”

The movie has all the features that I want from worthwhile cinema: Commentary on the human condition, including how easy it is for us to disregard suffering. It shows the gullibility of the masses to superstitions such as God and eternal salvation that are fired by hatred for those who are unlike us and, in this case, that includes a smart and kind alien species resembling roly-polies. The film is rife with examples of what happens when a charismatic’s horrifying decisions and actions go unchecked. Still, overall, the movie stank.

I offer this advice for watching “Mickey 17.” Make no effort to look for a master plot that links the film’s many subplots. But, if you must have coherence, think of the movie as a redemption arc for Mickey. He goes from voluntarily serving as a throwaway, literally, human being to a person whose life matters. Pay attention to the all-to-brief discussion toward the middle of the movie about “multiples.” There are other neat components in the film exploring phenomena such as 3D printing, the variability of personality even if the person is other than naturally produced, and what makes a tasty sauce for your steak. Also, Pattinson is effective portraying Mickey as Forest Gump-like and John Wick-y-ish. Ackie is very good as Mickey’s protector and a smart, big-hearted cop who cares deeply for good people be they humans or pillbug aliens. Ruffalo is good as a prosperity church preacher and Collette as the brains behind the Niflheim colonization.

For some reason, the studio, producers, or other reviewers of “Mickey 17” have labeled the film sci-fi comedy. It’s not. Yes, there are some funny parts in the movie but its murky thrust is deadly serious. The problems we now face in this age of internet squalor and mass media propaganda, mind-boggling disparities between the wealthy and middle class and poor, soulless leadership, a gullible citizenry, and willingness to drop bombs is, more or less, factored in “Mickey 17.” So is the solution. Loyalty to each other is important but that loyalty must be smart, sincere, and reversible in case what you’re loyal to ends up the source of widespread misery, if not genocide.

Huh, looks like critiquing “Mickey 17” has helped me make better sense of the movie. I urge caution, anyway. If you see “Mickey 17,” you’ll take away this or that lesson. But, to me anyway, this is a film that requires more than one viewing to comprehend its intention and sweep. “Mickey 17” treats several interesting ideas like they are drive-by-shootings, deeds that had to be done without the risk of getting caught by staying in one place too long.

“Mickey 17” has very good sound effects – plenty of explosions and an alien language that covers the spectrum from shrill howling to nearly infrasound thrumming. Visual effects are good, too. I didn’t pay much attention to the score, maybe because a lot of that attention was applied toward understanding the movie.

“Mickey 17” is either an A or an F. Can’t decide. So, for the sake of Movie Face-Off consistency and to flank Del’s punctilious need for order, I’ll split the difference to give the film a B-/C+.

Let us know what you think.

Del’s take

“Punctilious need for order”? Grrrrrrr.

YOU, sir, are the product of a “punctilious need for order,” from the protons, neutrons and electrons of your physical self to the axons and dendrites of your brain – few they may be – and the glottals and dipthongs of your often incoherent speech. Were it not for a “punctilious need for order” you would be nothing more than an amorphous blob of undifferentiated protoplasm.

In other words, Donald Trump.

But I digress. The subject here is “Mickey 17.” What I hear you trying to say is what I’ve been thinking the past day and a half: I wanted to like “Mickey 17,” I wanted to feel as passionately supportive of “Mickey 17” as I did “Parasite.” I recognize the genius of Bong Joon Ho and “Mickey 17” is a solid piece of moviemaking. But I just didn’t get into it and I’m not sure why.

I didn’t feel a visceral connection with this film. I want to say it’s lacking the manic, absurdist energy of “Parasite,” or that perhaps Bong is trying to do too much with the film, diluting its vision. Maybe I’m overthinking the whole thing.

You said the movie wasn’t funny – it tried to be funny but somehow kept missing the mark. The humor was off by about a single octave and I struggled to laugh at scenes that were obviously intended to be laughed at. You said the movie was commentary about the human condition and it was most definitely that, though not quite so on-the-nose as “Snowpiercer” or “Parasite.” Let’s talk about that for a moment.

The movie is yet another Bong denunciation of class stratifications with the 3-D printed Mickey serving as a metaphor for throwaway people. Mark Ruffalo and Toni Collette, who play Kenneth and Ylfa Marshall, leaders of the expedition to the planet Niflheim  (Get it? Marshall, i.e., the law-bringer and enforcer … oh, and Niflheim is the hell of Norse mythology), represent the highest caste, followed by a pantheon of lesser gods. Mladen’s roly-poly aliens are presented as the “other,” or in Republicanspeak, undocumented aliens.

But I think “Mickey 17” is about more than just class warfare. To my age-besotted brain, it’s a carefully calibrated observation about the corruptibility of man.

Mickey Barnes agrees to serve as an “expendable” aboard a spaceship traveling to the planet Niflheim. An expendable is somebody whose body and mind are mapped and kept on file. Should they die, a new version is printed and voila, dead guy is reborn. Crewmembers eagerly assign all the dangerous jobs to Mickey because they know he can always be reprinted. He’s like a cheap TV from a big box store – if it breaks, so what? Throw it away and buy a new one.

Mickey, in effect, becomes a commodity. There’s lots of talk in the movie about commodities and the value of things, from Mickey himself to Ylfa Marshall’s weird obsession with sauces. It seems everything in life has been commoditized, which is odd when you consider the exact same conversation is taking place in America right now, from our strange obsession with the price of eggs to strip-mining our national parks and invading Greenland. If empathy is removed from the life equation, all you’re left with are cold numbers. Life becomes purely transactional. Mickey’s disposability has indeed transformed him into something like a cheap TV.

But something happened during Mickey’s reprinting. Somebody tripped over a cable and Mickey was momentarily deprived of his “ink” supply. The Mickey that emerged was not the Mickey who was originally mapped but a newer, more innocent, almost child-like Mickey who becomes an easy mark for the people around him. As Mickey “dies” and is reborn through his 17 iterations he slowly accumulates experience until, on his 18^th printing (the age that people are considered grown up), Mickey is bestowed with the cynicism and corruption that characterizes the rest of us. Luckily, Mickey 17 is still around to preserve what’s good about mankind.

Or maybe that interpretation is horseshit. I don’t know. If it isn’t, I don’t think Bong anticipated life would imitate art so soon.

Robert Pattinson is a good actor who does a solid job representing Mickey in his various iterations. Steven Yeun of “The Walking Dead” fame is also effective as Mickey’s careless and uncaring business partner and “friend,” Timo. The actor who stole the show for me was Mark Ruffalo’s Kenneth Marshall, a half-baked con artist falling somewhere between Trump and Jim Bakker of PTL Club infamy. He was wonderfully bumbling.

Overall I’d say “Mickey17” isn’t as thematically coherent as his previous efforts, or if it is, it’s a lot more subtle. Bottom line? I couldn’t develop an emotional bond with the film. It’s a good movie, well worth a trip to the theater, but if you’re expecting the intensity of “Snowpiercer” and the quiet yet biting drama of “Parasite,” you may be disappointed.

People keep asking Mickey what it feels like to die. How can he answer, when he hasn’t really lived?

I’m giving “Mickey 17” a grade of B. And that’s my punctilious need for a closer.

Mladen Rudman is a former journalist and technical writer. Del Stone Jr. is a former journalist and writer.