I meant to have this out last week, but real life doesn’t care about my plans. Real life doesn’t care about any plans, really. It just is and it happens, planning only does one thing and that’s give you a guideline for when real life happens.
We’ve had a lot of real life happening in our personal lives and in the world. We’ve seen the first major political dissenter punished by the Trump administration. Mahmoud Khalil has been detained by ICE for protesting. He is set to be deported to Palestine, despite being a legal resident of the USA.
Despite the attack on free speech and the fervent cry from the press, this too will become a footnote as our government works to quell resistance. You will see editorials explaining how it isn’t a free speech issue, as Marco Rubio has already begun the spin. People will accept that reasoning, because people want to believe in the fundamental order necessary for their lives to continue unimpeded.
America is a child of privilege, even if it doesn’t always feel that way. To be a white American is to know a level of privilege most in the world do not. To be a rich, white American is to be royalty. And wealthy, white Americans? They are merchant kings and emperors.
We are taught from a young age of both American exceptionalism and white exceptionalism. This ties directly into patriarchal views, another ideological bombardment that shapes our worldview.
The greatness of white American folk heroes, from George Washington and Daniel Boone, to Abraham Lincoln and FDR, to Ronald Reagan and Bill Clinton. John Wayne and Chris Pratt and Elvis Presley and Taylor Swift. Billy Graham and Bill Gates and Mark Zuckerberg and Gabe Newell.
How many losing generals of a 4 year war do you know? How many do you know as well as Robert E. Lee? “Stonewall” Jackson? I suspect some of you know more about Lee than you do Jefferson Davis. You might even know more about him than Franklin Pierce or Stephen Cleveland. The most notable thing for me about Thomas Wilson is that he screened Birth of a Nation at the White House. Nothing white supremacist about that.
We are told how heroes like the Mayflower Pilgrims and Jeff Bezos built something out of nothing, with their own sweat and blood. How people like Steve Jobs and Joseph Smith persevered against all odds because of their singular genius. You can find examples in any and everything American. Even sport has white Icons, despite the shaky foundation there.
Our entire lives people have been pounding at the doors, telling us how our truth is a lie built on their backs. DEI initiatives were a way to work toward meritocracy, to reward exceptional performance regardless of race or gender. We’ve seen how well those efforts have been rewarded. Our world is built on the backs of people that we are encouraged to forget.
The descendants of slaves, who are still enslaved today through a predatory prison system. The indigenous people of the Americas, who were victims of a genocide that still harms them to this day. Women, whose “invisible” labor made this world possible, for better or worse.
I had intended to write today about the Oscar animated shorts I saw last week, they were excellent and I would encourage you to check them out. I might still, if I have a mind to later this week. I think they deserve more attention.
Instead, I’m going to talk about the movie I saw last night, Mickey 17. A movie about the expendable people in our world.
Bong Joon-Ho is an acclaimed director whose work has never resonated with me. I have seen The Host (my personal favorite), Snowpiercer (not for me) and Parasite (which I saw after the hype and it didn’t deliver). Joon-Ho’s movies are, on paper, something I should adore. His political commentary is spot on, delivered through high-concept art.
There’s just not a lot of nuance there. I like movies that present situations and let you draw your own conclusions, force you to bury your hands in their world and pull up roots. Joon-Ho’s work, on the other hand, delivers his message on the other end of a wrecking ball. Mickey 17 is not divorced from this style, no it might be the least sub-textual film he’s made.
Maybe he’s just beat me into submission—or the world has taught me that subtext is folly—but this time it worked. In no small part due to the work of Robert Pattinson, the titular Mickey Barnes. The film opens with Mickey 17 left for dead by his best friend Tomi (Steven Yeun) at the bottom of an ice crevice on the colony of Niflheim. It’s okay, because Mickey can be reprinted the next day. He’s an expendable, a worker thrust into the most horrific of situations because they can always come back.
Mickey and Tomi got into a bad deal with a loan shark back on Earth after Tomi conned Mickey into taking out a loan with him to open a Macaroon shop. Instead of paying up, Tomi encouraged Mickey to flee with him to a new colony. Tomi neglected to mention he had a job lined up and seeing no other alternative Mickey signed up to be an expendable. A job no one wants, with good reason.
We get a montage of the terrible ways that Mickey is subjected to death to advance the colonist’s life. He is used to develop an antidote to a fatal virus on Niflheim, dying over and over again as they find a cure. His one bright spot is security guard Nasha Barridge (Naomi Ackie), his other half who loves him no matter what version of Mickey he is.
Four years later, we see him as a part of an excursion who encounters wildlife for the first time, giant roly-polies that latch onto one of the crew members. She’s killed in an accident as a gun happy member of their party causes the ice to break and crush her.
Assuming that the creatures are going to eat Mickey, he is dejected when he learns they were only shoving him out of their cave. He makes his way back to their colony’s base and discovers that another Mickey has been printed. This is a crime against humanity, if you’re to believe Kenneth (Marc Ruffalo) and Ylfa Marshall (Toni Collette).
The Marshalls are failed politicians turned leaders of a religious based business that is leading the colonial expansion. Despite Joon-ho’s declaration that the Marshalls are a composite of fascist leaders, it is hard to not see Trump in Ruffalo’s performance.
Kenneth is controlled by his wife and by Preston (Daniel Henshall), their assistant who appeals to Kenneth’s vanity to enact his horrible ideals. This colony is part ethnostate, part religious sect and part good old fashioned business. Preston is all about the image and his message resonates with enough people that the Marshalls rule unopposed.
Both Mickeys know they will be killed if they are discovered, which leads to a fight to the death. The problem is, Mickey doesn’t want to die and he doesn’t want to kill himself. So, they are at an impasse. Pattinson imbues Mickey with an abundance of naivety and charisma in 17, a total himbo. 18 is a tad more maniacal and pissed off at the way he’s been treated by the world.
Mickey is dehumanized by almost everyone in his life. Everyone always asks him what dying is like but no one is concerned with how he was living. Nasha is the only one to see him as a human and it is the thread that ties the whole movie together. While the ideas seem to be bursting out at the seams, the strength of their relationship gives the movie a heart that makes it work.
This was a sci-fi adventure flick, where the hero saves the day against all odds. The kind of adventure flick that Hollywood churned out for years, ran through a filter of modern sensibilities and current climates. A lot of people will miss the obvious commentary, despite their best efforts to drill it in, but movies like this are important. A way to bridge ideas to minds that are gated off to other ways of thinking.
Mickey 17 reminds us how vital it is to truly see the people in our world—to recognize their humanity, their struggles, and their worth. It challenges us to question the narratives we’re fed and to confront the uncomfortable truth that so much of the power held by those in charge exists because we allow it. The systems that dehumanize, exploit, and divide only persist when we look away. The only way to change the world is by refusing to turn a blind eye—and by finding the courage to do something about it.