Mickey 17 isn’t Bong Joon Ho’s best, but it’s his freest

Trying to sum up Mickey 17 is... complicated, to say the least. So this time, I won’t be the one doing it. Instead, I’ll let a few Letterboxd reviews do the job for me.

“Challengers, Trump and Minecraft”

- Cayla

Other user, most comically, commented

“I would be eternally grateful for multiple Robert Pattinson's"

- Sadie Waldo

Another one mocked most of the cinematic universes, saying

“i love the bong joon ho eating the rich cinematic universe”

- fran

But definitely the best sum up is

“The film equivalent of when you're like “who the hell is in my google doc” only to realize it is you in a different tab"

- lucia

So, if you ask me - what is Mickey 17 about? Well, a little bit of everything. Irreverence, class struggle, capitalism, but also ethical dilemmas, religious fanaticism, political extremism, identity, multiple identities, personality disorders, romance, consumerism, and, of course, a touch of environmental destruction...

I think you get the idea. It’s literally about everything. Sorry, I meant EVERYTHING, in capital letters.

Mickey 17 is Bong Joon-Ho’s latest film, globally recognized for Parasite, and it’s based on Edward Ashton’s novel Mickey7. But this time, the director takes a different approach. It’s not just a drama about class struggle - it’s a much wilder ride, shifting between tones: comedy, yet also bittersweet tragedy. A film that knows no boundaries and, jokes aside, feels like 17 different movies crammed into one.

Very few films can tackle so many themes, and even fewer can do so with such clarity. That is Mickey 17's greatest strength. But, of course, this is only possible thanks to the mastermind pulling all the strings - the South Korean director who, with every film, continues to surprise in new and astonishing ways.

Bong Joon-ho, unleashed

I don’t know how or why this film landed in our hands, but the fact that it even exists is an absolute miracle. That Bong Joon-ho was given this level of creative and financial freedom is a true rarity, especially considering the usual behavior of major studios - particularly Warner, notorious for shelving massive projects before they ever see the light of day.

But maybe now isn’t the time to ask too many questions. Maybe now is the time to simply celebrate that Mickey 17 exists. Not because it’s the greatest film ever made - honestly, I wouldn’t even call it Bong’s best (that title still belongs to Parasite). It’s a milestone, though, and given the current state of the industry, the fact that it made it to theaters at all is nothing short of remarkable.

What makes Mickey 17 so special is that it might just be the most unfiltered, unrestrained version of Bong Joon-ho we’ve ever seen. Space opera, cloning, slapstick comedy, tragedy, absurdism, and more - all woven into a fresh, daring film that’s exactly the kind of bold storytelling the industry needs more of.

And it is daring, because throughout its entire runtime, it bombards you with questions and dilemmas. Its themes, like something straight out of a Black Mirror episode (from the good seasons, before Netflix took over), feel dangerously relevant and real.

Not just in the political, social, or economic sense, but on a deeper level - grappling with identity, morality, and existentialism in ways that feel infinitely more complex. Mickey 17 doesn’t just touch on these issues; it wrestles with them, challenges them, and forces you to engage with them.

Don’t ask me how it pulls this off. I can only tell you: it’s the magic of Bong Joon-ho.

A wild experiment that works…mostly

That said, one thing remains true - this isn’t his best film. Yes, it tackles all these themes, but at times, it feels almost laughably shallow. The critique it presents is valid; the problem is the way it delivers it.

At certain moments, the social commentary feels like it’s coming from a 15-year-old who just finished reading the first chapter of The Communist Manifesto and discovered Twitter. That’s not to say Bong’s class critique is wrong - the issue lies in the methods, both visual and narrative, that he uses to deliver it in Mickey 17.

Maybe it was a studio decision, or maybe it was the director’s own indulgence, but this time, the film leans more toward celebrating the obvious. The arcs of political extremism and religious fanaticism have solid foundations, but they’re presented in the least elegant way possible - blunt, heavy-handed, and ultimately, lacking the emotional weight they deserve.

The religious chants and political worship scenes? Completely unnecessary. They’re redundant, overstated, and easily the film’s weakest moments. They exist to spoon-feed the audience, and personally, I’d rather be challenged by a film than be treated like an idiot.

And since comparisons are inevitable, this is the perfect moment to point out that Parasite never made this mistake. It didn’t rely on an overload of elements to tackle its themes; it was sharp and precise in everything it set out to say.

Special focus on sharp. Pun intended.

Parasite was neither obvious nor overly abstract. It struck the perfect balance between accessibility and depth, making it one of the greatest social critiques in modern cinema. Mickey 17, on the other hand, lacks that precision.

But what it does have, unlike Bong’s magnum opus, is…

A cast that takes two steps forward (and one step back)

This might just be the best performance of Robert Pattinson’s career, right up there with The Lighthouse. He’s fun, irreverent, razor-sharp - just like the movie itself. He’s everything, all at once. And yet, he’s surrounded by such a powerhouse cast that his standout (or standouts?) moments sometimes slip under the radar.

Yes, Pattinson is the heart of the spectacle, but Naomi Ackie isn’t far behind, stealing the spotlight whenever she’s on screen. Steven Yeun has finally, finally cemented himself as so much more than just Glenn from The Walking Dead, and Toni Collette? She’s a wicked bitch - well, not literally, but she’s so damn good at playing one that you end up believing it.

Everyone shines. The chemistry is palpable. The cast understands both the film and their characters perfectly. Except for one glaring flaw in the ensemble: Mark Ruffalo. I wouldn’t call it the worst performance of his life, but it’s very far from his best.

His character, Marshall, is the classic dim-witted politician adored by the masses. But the way Ruffalo portrays him is clumsy and over-the-top. Maybe the idea was right, but the execution? Not so much. Not just because of the forced accent, which you pick up on by his fifth line and never unhear, but also because of the way he interacts with the stage and the rest of the cast.

Ruffalo looks uncomfortable in the role of this villain. And while he’s not a bad actor, he just wasn’t the right fit for this part. There are flashes of brilliance in his performance, but that’s all they are - fleeting moments of what could have been a great antagonist. Instead, they remain just that: attempts.

Of course, swapping out Mark Ruffalo wouldn’t suddenly fix all of the film’s issues. But a different casting choice could have made Marshall a more memorable, more detestable character. You know - like any real politician worth loathing.

Small step, giant leap

At the end of the day, for all the baggage this film carries, Mickey 17 marks an important step forward - one where nearly everyone walks away with something to gain. Well, everyone except Warner Bros., whose executives are probably refreshing Box Office Mojo every half hour, praying for a miracle:

So far, the film has raked in a mere $120 million - barely scraping past its astronomical $110 million budget.

Yeah. $110 million. That’s ten times the cost of Parasite. I guess space travel is still pretty damn expensive.

Regardless, this is a significant moment for (almost) everyone involved. The actors put on an incredible showcase, and just as they discovered roles they thrived in, they also found ones that didn’t quite fit.

And while it would be easy to call Bong Joon-ho the ultimate winner here - after all, he got to make exactly the film he wanted, with practically no restrictions—I’d argue that the true giant leap belongs to the audience, and to cinema itself.

Like I said at the start, films like this are becoming rare. The industry is devouring artistry at an alarming rate. But watching Mickey 17 gave me something I hadn’t felt in a while: hope. Because no matter its flaws, it’s breathtaking to witness cinema in its purest state.

Not unhinged. Not unchained. Just free.

And maybe that’s exactly why this film has been so divisive. But at its core, Mickey 17 is a powerful reminder of what art can be - what it should be. Bong Joon-ho was free to create. And hopefully, more directors, producers, musicians, and actors will get that same freedom week after week when box office releases.

Because in the end, that’s what art is about. Freedom.