A celebrated filmmaker revives both a recyclable protagonist and familiar social themes in “Mickey 17.”

I love a “Groundhog Day” and “Edge of Tomorrow” type of premise, where the hero can endure endless horrors without consequence because everything resets. Bill Murray can electrocute himself with a toaster in the bathtub, Tom Cruise can be torn apart by aliens, and none of it matters—they just wake up and start again.

“Mickey 17” tweaks the formula. Mickey isn’t reliving the same day—he actually dies. Time moves forward, but thanks to advanced technology, his memories are uploaded into a freshly printed body, allowing him to continue as a human test subject. No sugarcoating it: His designated role on this space expedition is called an “expendable,” sent out first to explore the unwelcoming planet Niflheim for human colonization.

Of course, in Norse mythology, Niflheim is the misty world of the dead—not exactly a great omen. The film mostly follows the 17th iteration of Mickey, hence the title. So yeah, he’s died a lot along the way.

This is director Bong Joon-Ho’s first film since his Oscar-winning “Parasite,” and while it operates under a quirkier premise, the focus, though timely, is largely the same: social disparity and the powerful exploiting the expendable lower class—Mickey, in this case.

Inconsistent, cartoonish accent aside, Robert Pattinson does well with the variations in personality and physicality from one dumb, loving Mickey to the next. However, I don’t quite understand how there are such significant differences between them when they’re merely an exact copy with the same memories of the previous rendition. Flawed printer, I guess?

But it’s fine because this time Joon-Ho is going for an exaggerated tone. Performances are intentionally over the top, especially Mark Ruffalo as Kenneth Marshall—a failed politician turned ruthless space expedition leader. Looking like a Donny Osmond knockoff while doing a bad Donald Trump impression, Marshall is desperate for glory at any cost. There are clear Trump parallels, down to his mannerisms and even a bullet grazing his face, but Marshall is so bumbling that it’s hard to take him seriously as a genuine threat.

The cast is strong, adding Toni Collette and Steven Yeun to the mix of greedy people looking out for only themselves. Meanwhile, Mickey, forced to die over and over, develops a rare appreciation for life—only for the story to lead him to its inevitable, predictable sacrifice.

And that’s where the movie comes to an abrupt end, concluding its playful take on a classic abuse of power. Mickey’s latest clone may be fresh, but the themes remain comfortably familiar.

3.5/5