One of the most anticipated films of the year has arrived—a new work directed by Bong Joon Ho, who has previously given us masterpieces like Parasite, The Host, and Memories of Murder. Mickey 17 is based on a bestseller written by Edward Ashton, a book I highly recommend. It explores fascinating existential themes and includes some entertaining chapters that make this recent adaptation even more enjoyable.

With a keen eye for camera work, Bong Joon Ho places us inside the mind of Mickey Barnes—a cowardly, shy, and overly passive character. The very first frame of the film conveys his pain, exhaustion, and weariness as he repeatedly dies while performing his job. As written in the book, Mickey awakens after a major accident and, instead of facing his imminent death, he somehow survives—seeing it as a second chance to change his life. The problem is that his replacement, Mickey 18, has already been created, and the two distinct personalities must now work together in order to survive.

Like other films by the South Korean filmmaker, Mickey 17 explores themes of capitalism's power, the feeling of having no control over one's future, and existentialism in a system that seeks to exploit individuals in every possible way. Mickey’s multiple deaths parallel the exhausting jobs we endure every day—not to live, but simply to survive. The figurative notion of companies wanting to exploit the blood, pain, and sweat of their employees to achieve corporate goals is manifested literally in Mickey’s plight. Bong Joon Ho has a lot of fun with his satire, leveraging the repeated deaths of his protagonist both for entertainment and thematic resonance. During its first act, the film is striking to watch, delving into the fears and loneliness of Mickey Barnes.

As the film progresses, it constantly shifts in pace and form, sometimes working against its commentary on capitalism and the exploitation of Mickey Barnes’ infinite deaths—portrayed with a mix of comedy and sociopathy by a multifaceted Robert Pattinson. His performance goes beyond the typical cloned character trope; Pattinson gives each version of Mickey a distinct personality without ever veering into parody or self-indulgence. He is fully committed to the emotional journey of his character, using his sad, tired eyes and subtle vocal differences to create a striking contrast to Mark Ruffalo’s character, Kenneth Marshall, who appears to be semi-inspired by Donald Trump. Ruffalo’s performance leans into cartoonish exaggeration, but due to weak character writing, it ultimately makes the film feel disjointed in its characters, perspectives, and tone.

Mickey 17 is a film with somewhat diluted substance, yet solid in its aesthetic vision, which elevates Bong Joon Ho’s latest work. During its first 30 minutes, the film plays with editing by interweaving flashbacks within flashbacks, accompanied by a voice-over from Pattinson, making the narrative a delight. Its extravagant world evokes the styles of filmmakers like Terry Gilliam and Chris Marker, with costume designs and ideas reminiscent of La Jetée and Brazil—films that explore the perception of reality versus one's future. This time, Bong Joon Ho is interested in crafting a vast open world, reminiscent of Snowpiercer, yet possessing its own unique charm.

Unfortunately, the second act is convoluted and difficult to get through. The constant emphasis on voice-over and repetitive explanatory dialogues disrupt the narrative flow between the three acts, making the transitions feel clumsy and lacking fluidity. Additionally, the film introduces too many subplots that interfere with the protagonist’s emotional development, turning it into a disorganized collection of philosophical and existential ideas that feel more fitting for a teenage audience. However, when we reach the climax, Bong Joon Ho showcases his ability to capture action within the frame and, through editing, craft a visual and sonic spectacle that deserves to be seen on the big screen. He successfully brings together Mark Ruffalo’s spontaneity, Pattinson’s dual performance, and Edward Ashton’s post-apocalyptic world—depicted in images that should have been the film’s primary focus from the start.

Perhaps it’s the focus on the American audience—much like what happened with Okja—that makes Bong Joon Ho’s American-produced films feel overly reiterative in their themes, as Mickey 17 lacks the subtlety of his previous South Korean works. While it’s fun when it needs to be, the constant shifts in form and narrative cause it to lose focus, making its themes feel less compelling. The emotional aspects take a backseat to action sequences that, while visually impressive, fail to resonate deeply. It’s unfortunate that such an interesting book received an adaptation that doesn’t fully land. Despite featuring more deaths than the novel, the film loses the language and structure that made the source material so impactful. Ultimately, it feels like Mickey 17 underestimates its audience’s ability to interpret its images, watering down its philosophical depth with obvious imagery, heavy-handed dialogue, and excessive exposition, making Mickey Barnes’ journey feel more exhausting than thought-provoking.

Movie Review: "Mickey 17" Finds A Fantastic Robert Pattinson Shouldering An Underwhelming Film