Should we all be so lucky as to witness an artist performing at the peak of their craft. Think of hearing Aretha Franklin sing, watching Michael Jackson dance, or feeling the crowd roar as Steph Curry nails a game-winning three. Their art will endure for generations, but to experience them at their height is a rare gift, often underappreciated in the moment. It’s hard to grasp what we have until it’s gone. So let’s take the time to appreciate the rare moment we find ourselves in.

If, like me, you worship at the altar of cinema, Bong Joon Ho is one of the chosen few born to deliver the gospel. He often crafts emotional epics laced with trenchant social commentary that leaves your soul singing like a Southern choir. A visionary of the highest order, he wields cinematic language with the deft touch of a Renaissance master.

His latest film, the sci-fi dark-comedy Mickey 17 sees the auteur delving into the themes at the heart of his best work. The film offers a provocative cautionary tale about a futuristic society with dwindling regard for life. Bong uses cloning, space colonies, and alien critters as an entry point to discuss capitalism and class warfare.

Mickey Barnes (Robert Pattinson) has the sad distinction of being one of cinema’s sorriest schleppers. Some poor business decisions leave him in debt to a psychopathic loan shark who enjoys cutting people into pieces. To escape, Mickey signs up to work on a spaceship leaving Earth to colonize the icy planet Niflheim. He should have read the fine print, though. In his desperation, he agrees to serve as an expendable — a disposable person tasked with life-threatening assignments.

Over the four-year journey to Niflheim, Mickey is poisoned, irradiated, and suffocated to death. It’s all in a day’s work for an expendable. Each time he bites it, his memories get downloaded from a brain server onto a cloned, 3D-printed body. His life becomes a nightmarish combination of Groundhog Day and Final Destination.

Most of the crew treats Mickey as less than human, especially Kenneth Marshall (Mark Ruffalo), the vapid, failed-politician leading the colony to its frost-bitten promise land. The lone exception is Nasha (Naomi Ackie), a compassionate security agent who falls for Mickey.

Things go off the rails once the colony touches down on Niflheim. First contact with a sentient alien species turns violent, and Mickey’s crewmates leave him for dead. When he returns to base, he finds his replacement, Mickey 18. Having two active clones is a major legal infraction, resulting in terminating both Mickeys. With his love for Nasha on the line, this cosmic pushover’s survival instincts finally kick in.

Pattinson has cemented himself as one of this generation’s most dynamic talents. He has a penchant for delivering larger-than-life performances while still finding his character’s humanity. Here he plays Mickey as an affable chump, all too willing to roll with life’s punches, even as life callously pummels him from every direction. In Pattinson’s hands, Mickey endures a compelling transformation, never losing the aw-shucks earnestness that makes him easy to root for.

Ackie makes a feast of her supporting role as Nasha, the yin to Mickey’s yang. She is confident, assertive, and willing to fight for her beliefs. Despite living in a dog-eat-dog society, she’s attracted to his gentle demeanor, seeing an innocence worth protecting. 

The dynamic between Mickey, Nasha, and Marshall encompasses the themes driving the film. Marshall sees him as a tool — something to use and discard. Although empathy is something everyone deserves, in this world, Nasha’s compassion for Mickey is radical.

These relationships highlight how even though society claims to value human life, our actions tell a different story. We look the other way as child labourers mine cobalt for our smartphones and as Bangladeshi women endure 16-hour work days to ship cheap inventory to fast fashion brands. Can anyone say they value life when they accept inhumane treatment of others is a fair price for modern comforts? Mickey 17 exposes the chasm between our professed values and our lived reality.

Mickey 17 and Mickey 18’s survival — a zero-sum game where one must die for the other to live — mirrors how the working class wages war amongst itself while their corporate overlords pull the strings. The colony’s leader, failed political candidate Kenneth Marshall, represents the demagogues who stoke fear of migrants and DEI programs to distract from real existential threats. While the low IQ, camera-preening Marshall comes across as especially Trumpy, he’s an amalgamation of the nationalist blowhards toxifying democracies worldwide these days.

Bong uses a futuristic tale of humanity’s expansion into the cosmos to interrogate capitalism, class warfare, and the sanctity of life. The result is a darkly comedic sci-fi thriller that finds glimmers of light within the dystopian darkness. This damning social satire packs genuine emotional weight, challenging us to recognize and overcome our own moral contradictions.