Mickey 17: Bong’s Clone Comedy Conquers Berlinale
Fresh from its world premiere at the 75th Berlin International Film Festival, Bong Joon-ho’s “Mickey 17” proves that if you’re going to die repeatedly for a corporation on an ice planet, you might as well have a sense of humour about it. The latest from the Oscar-winning director takes Edward Ashton’s novel “Mickey7” and transforms it into something delightfully stranger, funnier, and more politically pointed than anyone could have expected.
Robert Pattinson, continuing his impressive journey from sparkly vampire to arthouse darling, pulls double duty as Mickey Barnes versions 17 and 18 – two iterations of the same “expendable” clone who find themselves in the awkward position of existing simultaneously. Pattinson clearly had a blast with the dual role, channeling everything from Ren & Stimpy to Jim Carrey, creating a slapstick existential crisis that somehow works brilliantly.
The Berlinale audience ate up Bong’s signature mix of genres, particularly when the film takes a sharp left turn from clone comedy into a meditation on colonialism via the introduction of Niflheim’s native species. It’s classic Bong – just when you think you’re watching a witty sci-fi romp about corporate exploitation, you find yourself emotionally invested in the fate of an alien monster that might just be a metaphor for immigration policy. Or capitalism. Or both. (This is a Bong Joon-ho film, after all – metaphors stack like Russian dolls.)
The supporting cast brings their A-game, with Mark Ruffalo chewing scenery as a deliciously fascistic politician and Toni Collette serving ice-queen realness as his manipulative wife. Steven Yeun and Naomi Ackie ground the film with more subtle performances, providing emotional anchors amidst the chaos of multiple Mickeys.
What’s particularly impressive is how Bong manages to make a film about literal human disposability feel so… well, human. Between death-defying missions and existential crises, Mickey(s) Barnes maintains a wonderfully British sense of humour about the whole affair. The film’s use of British English adds an extra layer of absurdist colonial commentary that had the Berlinale press corps chuckling knowingly.
If there’s any criticism to be made, it might be that the film’s mid-point genre shift feels a bit like watching two movies stacked one on top of another. But then again, in a world where we’re all essentially expendable to our corporate overlords, maybe that’s exactly the point. Bong continues to prove he’s operating on a level where even his seeming narrative inconsistencies feel purposeful, like inside jokes waiting to be gotten.
The true revelation here is Pattinson’s masterful character work. His transformation between Mickey 17 and Mickey 18 is nothing short of extraordinary, crafting two distinct personalities that share the same face but inhabit entirely different emotional landscapes. Where Mickey 17 embodies the perfect buffoon with an almost slapstick sensibility, Mickey 18 veers into fascinating psychopathic territory. It’s a challenging dual performance that could have easily descended into gimmickry, but Pattinson navigates it with remarkable subtlety and precision. His command of delivery and physical presence makes the distinction between the two clones feel natural and earned, proving once again that he’s evolved far beyond his early career pigeonholing into one of the most versatile actors of his generation.
“Mickey 17” is a rare beast: a big-budget sci-fi comedy that manages to be both genuinely funny and genuinely thoughtful about serious issues. It’s the kind of film where you’ll laugh out loud at Pattinson’s physical comedy one minute and find yourself contemplating the nature of consciousness the next. The Berlinale audience response suggests this could be another crossover hit for Bong, proving once again that nobody blends genres – or social commentary with entertainment – quite like him.
Just remember: if you don’t like this review, there are at least 16 previous versions you could try instead.
Editor in Chief of Ikon London Magazine, journalist, film producer and founder of The DAFTA Film Awards (The DAFTAs).
