After long hours of production and a delayed release, Mickey 17 has finally been unveiled to audiences worldwide, amid high expectations for Bong Joon-ho’s adaptation of Edward Ashton’s novel Mickey 7. As the Oscar-winning director who rewrote history by becoming the first Asian recipient of Best Picture, does Bong once again prove his genius, making the wait worthwhile?
There were shrugged shoulders at the news that Bong Joon-ho’s next film, following Parasite’s historic wins—including Best Picture, Best Director, and Best International Film at the 2020 Oscars—would be Mickey 17. This is because his previous films, set in similar terrains of science fiction and futuristic technological fantasy, left more questions than easy answers, particularly regarding whether his satirical sensibilities fit the genre.
A Political Sci-Fi? Bong’s Unique Approach
The Host (2006) was a brilliant allegory of modern Korea, featuring a monster in the Han River, possibly a deformed alligator caused by formaldehyde illegally discharged from a U.S. Army base, terrorizing Seoul. The narrative transforms the actual events involving formaldehyde discharge into an allegory that examines Korea’s intricate relationship with the United States.
Snowpiercer (2013) takes place on a train that travels around the world during an artificial ice age. It was commercially successful. However, its class divisions—crudely represented by the luxury front cars and the shantytown-like back cars—did not resonate with many, particularly in terms of which reality it was satirizing. Okja (2017) became embroiled in a distribution dispute between cinema chains and OTT platforms, which overshadowed its blend of complex themes, including biotechnology, artificial meat, factory farming, and animal rights.
Parasite — Satire, Class, and History
Parasite (2019) was a sigh of relief. It all made perfect sense, much like the sharp satires of Korean society seen in Memories of Murder (2003) and The Host (2006). Ki-taek, the unemployed father living in a semi-basement (banjiha), maneuvering his way into the home of a wealthy family only to end up in the basement, serves as both a metaphor and a satire of a Korea where the divide between the rich and the poor remains insurmountable. Bong’s wry cynicism toward this unjust system typically targets corrupt bureaucracies, right-wing Christians, and the wealthy, whose detachment from reality renders them almost childlike in their innocence.
Bong’s critique of specific segments of Korean society—and the systems that uphold their privilege—reflects his generational perspective, rooted in a Korea still marked by the legacy of its authoritarian developmental era. This period, deeply entwined with anti-Communism, corporate-driven policies, Christian conservatism, and a strategic alliance with the U.S., played a decisive role in shaping the nation’s social and economic landscape. The dynamics of class interaction in Bong’s most successful films stem from this historically specific Korean context, where rapid economic transformation favored certain ideologies and social classes at the expense of others.
Transplanting the Political DNA
Mickey 17 is worlds apart from the settings of Memories of Murder and Parasite. Set in 2054, the film envisions a future where humans have developed the technology to travel to distant planets—such as Niflheim, a frozen world four years away from Earth—and to extract memories, personality, knowledge, and experiences from the brain for transplantation into another body. This technology enables the creation of Expendables, whose bodies can be reproduced infinitely while retaining the same set of memories and consciousness. Mickey (Robert Pattinson) joins the colonization mission as one such Expendable, tasked with enduring extreme conditions and performing jobs no ordinary human would dare to undertake—including serving as a test subject for developing vaccines against viruses native to Niflheim. Each time he dies in the process, a new body is implanted with his preserved memories and skills, allowing him to continue his work.

Philosophy or Politics?
Mickey 17 presents a grim projection of fears surrounding unchecked technological advancements, such as cloning and DNA splicing, where ethical considerations and human rights may be disregarded. The film raises profound philosophical questions: What aspects of humanity must be preserved in the face of such progress?
Yet, rather than deeply exploring these dilemmas, Bong transplants his political DNA into the narrative, crafting a satirical critique of power. He introduces Kenneth Marshall (Mark Ruffalo), an idiotically egomaniacal Christian zealot who rules over this technological dystopia as a simplistic, authoritarian politician. Bong’s portrayal of the dangers of emerging technologies closely mirrors his interpretation of modern Korea, where economic development, corrupt politics, and certain religious factions are deeply entangled.
How Does Mickey 17 Compare to Classic Sci-Fi?
Bong’s approach in Mickey 17 raises questions about the way science fiction has traditionally functioned. Classic sci-fi often delves into deep philosophical inquiries. For instance, Blade Runner (1982) explores the nature of identity and the moral implications of artificial intelligence. 2001: A Space Odyssey (1968) ponders human evolution and the vast unknown of space. And Ex Machina (2014) interrogates the ethical dilemmas of AI and consciousness.
By contrast, Bong’s sci-fi is not existential but political. His films are less about the essence of humanity and more about the systems that control human lives. This shift makes Mickey 17 less of a sci-fi meditation and more of a cautionary political fable.
Is Mickey 17 Science Fiction through a Political Lens?
One of the main criticisms of Mickey 17 is that its world feels too binary—a stark good vs. evil framing, with Kenneth Marshall as the ridiculous political villain. However, the real-world future of biotechnology and AI is far more nuanced, driven by corporate interests, ethical dilemmas, and socio-political struggles. Unlike Bong’s portrayal, the true architects of technological progress are not clueless politicians but calculated and strategic corporate moguls. Just look at today’s technology tycoons and their smart moves to capitalize on their intellectual properties.
Mickey 17 is an intriguing addition to Bong Joon-ho’s filmography, but it may not reach the heights of Parasite or even The Host. While its political commentary is sharp, its philosophical depth may fall short compared to other sci-fi masterpieces. However, for fans of Bong’s distinctive style and critical lens on power and society, Mickey 17 still offers a compelling watch.