The new Bong Joon-ho film Mickey 17 will not premiere at Cannes this year, even though Parasite won the Palme d’Or in 2019 and Cannes is known for honoring past winners. Instead, Mickey 17 had its first festival showing at Berlin, presented out of competition; it will open in theaters on March 7, not at the end of the year like many titles aiming for the 2026 Oscars. Parasite swept the major prizes at the 2020 ceremony, a reminder of Bong’s impact and his ability to fuse genre storytelling with social insight. In that sense, Mickey 17 arrives with the weight of expectation, even as it ventures into new territory for the director.
In tone and premise, Mickey 17 bears the closest resemblance to Okja from 2017. Like that satire on the meat industry, it uses a science fiction conceit, a generous mix of humor in bright and dark registers, and a cast of grotesque creatures and human foibles to probe issues that feel pressing in the present moment. The balance between whimsy and critique becomes a driving force, guiding viewers through a narrative that asks difficult questions about complicity, convenience, and the price of progress.
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The story centers on a man who agrees to join a mission to colonize another planet, taking part in experiments that carry real risk of death. Each time the protagonist dies, a clone is produced by a colossal 3-D printer to keep playing the game. That premise gives the film a playground for visual humor, including moments where Robert Pattinson appears in duplicate, teasing a slapstick energy never seen before in his work. Beyond the laughs, Mickey 17 stacks up jokes and nods to dehumanizing technologies championed by powerful magnates, while also examining imperialist, xenophobic, and ultracapitalist politics that shape contemporary life.
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“Me inspiré en políticos reales del pasado, y Mussolini fue uno de ellos; en todo caso prefiero que cada espectador haga sus propias conexiones,” resumía Bong sobre el tema, consciente de evitar comprometerse en líos. En la película, el tirano que interpreta Mark Ruffalo es un trasunto reconocible de Donald Trump en su forma de hablar, en su rostro de disgusto y en esa confianza ostentosa que oculta una crueldad inquietante. La intención es más una provocación que un retrato directo, y la actuación, junto con la puesta en escena, invita a que el público cuestione la fascinación contemporánea por el poder y la forma en que se legitima a través del espectáculo.
Minor Work
Like Okja, Mickey 17 can be read as a smaller entry in Bong’s catalog. It stretches 137 minutes and the rhythm of its humor sometimes founders under the weight of its political parallels. The obvious parallels to real-world power can feel too on the nose, blunting some of the comedy’s spark. Yet the filmmaker’s enduring strength lies in a humane impulse and the belief that tyrants can be resisted by ordinary people who choose solidarity over fear. That humanistic thread remains a steady beacon amid the film’s more sprawling set pieces.
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The shadow of Trump also looms over the Berlin debut of Dreams, the second feature Julia Chastain stars in, directed by Michel Franco and presented at the festival as a potential Golden Bear contender. Dreams traces the relationship between a young Mexican dancer and an American philanthropist, their bond strained by borders and risk, as he makes the decision to cross the border illegally. The film navigates the fraught terrain where love, law, and migration collide, offering a stark, often intimate portrait of a boundary-crossing world.
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Dreams moves in loops, circling back to familiar questions while drifting toward moments that border on the absurd to underline a single truth: power tends to consolidate, and the rest must navigate the consequences. The Berlin program this year underscores a taste for cinema that entertains while insisting on accountability, a combination that keeps audiences thinking long after the credits roll.