Mickey 17

Director: Bong Joon Ho
Starring: Robert Pattinson, Naomi Ackie, Steven Yeun, Patsy Ferran, Cameron Britton, Daniel Henshall, Stephen Park, Anamaria Vartolomei, Toni Collette, Mark Ruffalo, Holiday Grainger
Running Time: 137 min.
Rating: R

★★★ ½ (out of ★★★★) 

Sometimes a movie just lands with a thud, any initial curiosity factor wearing off as it fades into obscurity following its release. And while flopping at the box office isn't a new phenomenon, the turnaround has gotten progressively faster, with even high quality projects struggling to find a foothold. But when it's a film from the Oscar winning director of one of the more popular and deserving Best Picture winners in years, that's bigger news. Especially since Bong Joon Ho's unfairly overlooked sci-fi satire Mickey 17 seems like the kind of visionary achievement audiences would get behind. 

That mainstream moviegoers passed on it could be viewed as a compliment, or at least proof Bong can still paint on a canvas this large without sacrificing the uniqueness and complexity he brought to his previous work. Based on Edward Ashton's 2022 novel Mickey7, the filmmaker's highly anticipated follow up to Parasite throws a lot at the wall, but much of its philosophical absurdity sticks, with some of its better elements recalling Star Wars, Catch-22, Brazil and Southland Tales. But as chaotic and trippy as this ride is, it never feels disjointed or patched together, its few flaws resulting from a lengthy, overambitious final act that still manages to succeed on its own terms. 

It's 2050 and an awkward, down-on-his luck Mickey Barnes (Robert Pattinson) and his friend Timo (Steven Yeun) find themselves at the mercy of a murderous loan shark who vows to travel the ends of the Earth to exact revenge. So their solution is to leave the planet, joining a shuttle expedition spearheaded by slimy, ex-politician Kenneth Marshall (Mark Ruffalo) and his wife Ylfa (Toni Collette). While Timo becomes a pilot, Mickey volunteers as an "Expendable," sacrificing his life in treacherous jobs, only to be continuously cloned in a reprinting machine to do it all again, memory intact. 

During Mickey's four year trip, he develops a romance with security officer Nasha (Naomie Ackie) as the crew eventually arrive on ice-planet Niflheim to prepare for colonization. But when Mickey's seventeenth incarnation is sent out to capture a native life form known as a "Creeper" for testing, he survives, returning to discover a Mickey 18 has already replaced him. Violating Marshall's rules against "Multiples," Mickey 17 forms a strained alliance with his wilder, more aggressive doppelganger so both can avoid permanent extermination.  

As the colony's guinea pig and literal crash test dummy, an impressionable Mickey begins his journey believing he's escaped the turmoil and oppression on Earth to serve a greater purpose with this assignment. Instead, he'll discover the hand he's been dealt is far worse, occupying the bottom rung of a cruel caste system wherein he's sacrificed to the whims of Marshall's insatiable greed.

Hauled up in claustrophobic living quarters and regularly fed slop for meals, Mickey's been manipulated into accepting his lot without a second thought, much like the rest of the lower class. In a society ruled by an oafish king there's no room for individual thought or resistance, at least until an unexpected turn of events challenges that. An easy target for those who wish to mock him, even Mickey's one supposed friend is indifferent to his suffering, which is creatively depicted in a darkly humorous montage that ends with his latest version being spit out of a giant printer. 

Resigned to the physical and emotional trauma of each demise, Mickey consoles himself with the fact each demise isn't really the end. But in many ways it's worse in that he's a human science experiment, ogled at with a mixture of pity and callous curiosity by his peers. The lone exception is his no-nonsense, resourceful girlfriend Nasha, who sticks by whichever version of him she gets next. 

When number 17 doesn't perish as expected, his interactions with the cynical and rebellious 18 results in crazy, often hilarious shenanigans involving recreational drugs and a compellingly complicated love quadrangle involving Nasha and fellow security agent Kai (Anamaria Vartolomei). There's also an incredible scene where Marshall invites Mickey to a dinner that's not only emblematic of the film's themes, but a turning point for him in truly comprehending his place in this zealot's capitalistic food chain. And since it takes the power of the masses to rise up against tyrannical oppression, much of the third act involves that battle to thwart the clownish dictator's dominance.

Adopting a strangely high-pitched voice, unkempt hair and shy, clumsy body language, the versatile Pattinson is astonishing as this odd outcast we can't help but root for. Carefully skirting the line between comedy and drama, he hits all the right notes in giving what has to be the most intriguing turn of his career. Naomi Ackie is a force as Nasha, injecting heart, loyalty and determination into an unresistant character willing to do anything for Mickey, even if it means jeopardizing her own life. A far less loyal Timo is played to squirrely, double crossing perfection by Yeun while Vartolomei impresses as the good hearted but compliant Kai, torn between her feelings for Mickey and an allegiance to the system. 

Ruffalo's brilliantly off-the-wall performance as this failed politician turned smarmy authoritarian is a riot, with the actor very clearly incorporating Trump-like mannerisms into Marshall's personality and demeanor. Under normal circumstances that could come across as a stunt, but in this sociopolitical farce, it completely works. And Ruffalo doesn't hold back, devouring every scene as this laughably incompetent man child who's just delusional enough to be dangerous. This idea is only bolstered by Marshall's bootlicking minions and conniving wife, portrayed with sarcastic flair by a devilish Collette.

The film's finale is bolstered by Fiona Crombie's production design and some surprisingly strong visual effects for the Creepers, who play an enormously important role in the central plot. Part sci-fi, part scathing social critique, Bong manages to create a wholly original universe that has us both laughing and cringing at the circumstances befalling our hapless, sympathetic hero. But what resonates most is Bong's timely examination of how unchecked technology gives those in power another dangerous tool to control the masses.                       

The Last Showgirl

Director: Gia Coppola

Starring:  Pamela Anderson, Kiernan Shipka, Brenda Song, Billie Lourd, Jason Schwartzman, Dave Bautista, Jamie Lee Curtis
Running Time: 89 min.
Rating: R

★★★ (out of ★★★★)   

Despite covering somewhat familiar thematic terrain, Gia Coppola's The Last Showgirl manages to stand out as the ideal acting vehicle for 90's pop culture icon Pamela Anderson. And while this casting provides a hook for viewers, it's really her surprisingly moving dramatic performance that leaves the biggest impression. In it, she plays a hopefully optimistic and carefree woman at a crossroads whose past mistakes resurface as she processes shattering news, prompting the reexamination of a life she always considered ideal.

While it's hard to avoid passing judgment on how misaligned this protagonist's priorities have been, she made those choices and begrudgingly defends them from the criticism of those closest to her. The film doesn't tap dance around that fact and neither does Anderson, subtly hinting the character's issues are  rooted in serious regret. Flawed but immensely likable, she pulls us in as we root for her to turn the corner and begin taking real steps toward making amends. 

57-year-old Vegas showgirl Shelly Gardner (Anderson) has been performing for thirty years in Le Razzle Dazzle, a French style revue co-starring younger co-stars Mary-Anne (Brenda Song) and Sue (Kiernan Shipka) and overseen by producer Eddie (Dave Bautista). But when he breaks the news the show's being permanently replaced in two weeks by a burlesque circus, Shelly's devastated. 

While Shelly's complaints about the circus's trashy content fails to land with Mary-Anne and Sue, she finds a sympathetic ear in best friend Annette (Jamie Lee Curtis), an ousted fellow showgirl now working as a cocktail waitress. Financially strapped and seeing few options for future employment, Shelly also struggles to connect with estranged adult daughter Hannah (Billie Lourd), a college senior and aspiring photographer resentful of her mom's absence growing up. Now as Shelly's world crumbles around her, she'll attempt a fresh start, as emotionally painful and challenging as that may be.

It's immediately clear that the women in the soon to be cancelled Le Razzle Dazzle form a small, tight knit family that's common for co-workers spending countless hours together. That's why describing their bond as dysfunctional isn't quite accurate, at least early on. You can tell from the first few scenes they personally and professionally support each other, with Shelly acting as kind of a surrogate mother to Mary-Anne and Sue, regardless of whether they want to admit it. 

With the curtain closing on this revue, we realize Shelly's orbiting a planet that's all her own, as none of her friends seem as heavily impacted by this as she. Much of this has to do with age, but there are other factors both within her control and beyond it that makes the upheaval so traumatizing. Mary-Anne and Sue will quickly land on their feet because they're young, a supposedly less replaceable Eddie already has a gig lined up and the blunt, gambling addicted Annette is done with it all, having been booted from the show years ago. 

Though each of these characters deeply care for Shelly, there is a certain rift that forms between them, especially when she's romanticizing Le Razzle Dazzle's importance. And never envisioning the need to do any other job, she unravels at the mere thought, a fear only compounded by her mistakes as an absent single parent. One of the film's more powerful moments comes when daughter Hannah finally gets to see the show but walks away disgusted her mom somehow chose this over her. 

The girls may look at the self rationalizing Shelly as a mentor, but a generational gap persists, particularly when Song's cynical Mary-Anne clashes with Shelly's rose colored idealism or when Shipka's Sue gets a taste of the aging performer's casual cruelty. Both actresses are really strong in smallish supporting roles, as is an unrecognizable Jamie Lee Curtis, who under garish orange spray tan and a hideous wig masks the pain beneath Annette's tough exterior. As Eddie, Bautista gives yet another quietly understated turn that finds his character delicately balancing the role of producer and ex-boyfriend, awkwardly attempting to help the only way he knows how. 

Any hesitation in framing this as Anderson's "comeback," probably stems from just how infrequently she's been tested before. A far cry from Baywatch or Barb Wire, you can easily draw parallels between this and Mickey Rourke's role in The Wrestler, with both containing elements that mirror the actors' own careers. The ending is ambiguously bittersweet since what follows remains entirely in the main character's hands.  But working from Kate Gersten's script, Coppola molds this into a hypnotizing character study anchored by Anderson's warmth and vulnerability. Like the title showgirl, she's been boxed in as a sex symbol for years, only to now see herself afforded an opportunity at changing that perception.                                         

Death of a Unicorn

Director: Alex Scharfman
Starring: Paul Rudd, Jenna Ortega,Will Poulter, Anthony Carrigan, Sunita Mani, Stephen Park, Jessica Hynes, Téa Leoni, Richard E. Grant, Kathryn Erbe
Running Time: 107 min.
Rating: R

★★½ (out of ★★★★)  

For better or worse, Death of a Unicorn is both everything its title suggests and also somehow a lot less. Making his directorial debut, writer Alex Scharfman immediately gets down to business when a unicorn is struck by a car in what might be the film's most compelling scene, if only because that premise carries so much potential. But after creating an air of mystery surrounding where this story's headed, it unfortunately goes downhill from there.   

Accurately described as a mix of drama, fantasy and action, it's all of those at once, yet plays as a single, irritatingly long joke that runs out of gas before the conclusion. Sure, it's messy, but the repetitiveness makes it feel more like a slog, testing viewers patience with how often one character is continuously ignored and dismissed. That even actors as talented as the film's co-leads can't save this speaks volumes, even if they fare better than expected given the circumstances. 

Widowed lawyer Elliot Kintner (Paul Rudd) takes teenage daughter Ridley (Jenna Ortega) with him to spend the weekend at the estate of his wealthy boss Odell Leopold (Richard E. Grant), also meeting his wife Belinda (Téa Leoni) and son Shepard (Will Poulter). But on the drive over, Elliot accidently hits and severely injures what appears to be a white unicorn with his car. Laying on the road near death, Elliot seemingly puts it out of its misery with a tire iron, though not before Ridley experiences strange visions and halucinations after touching its horn. 

When Elliot and Ridley arrive at the mansion with a unicorn in their trunk, Leopold sees an opportunity to use the creature's magical healing properties to cure his cancer and monetize the treatment, enlisting his family, butler (Anthony Carrigan), assisstant (Jessica Hynes) and a pair of scientists (Sunita Mani and Stephen Park) to help. But while Ridley's research uncovers the true danger of what they're doing, larger, more vicious unicorns look to reclaim their young. With Ridely's warnings falling on deaf ears, Elliot will have to choose between his own daughter and an obsessively greedy boss.  

Scharfman takes the increasingly popular route of satirizing the ultra wealthy, with all their bizarre habits, rituals and obliviousness to how normal people live or behave. This is taken to the extreme once the eccentric Leopolds uncover the potential windfall that awaits from replicating and distributing the unicorn's healing powers. But despite their makeshift lab and the reluctant support of a spineless Elliot, the consequences turn predictably dire.

Up to this point, seeds are planted for what should be an exciting mystery-adventure, until the script starts hitting the same notes. Feigning interest in Ridley, the Leopold clan do their best to shun the only character with a brain, writing her off as a clueless, angsty teen. But that gag's run into the ground when these affluent manipulators are bombarded with evidence that harvesting mystical unicorns isn't the safest idea. 

The gory, chaotic unicorn attacks are accompanied by poor digitized effects, but considering how movies twice this budget often look worse, that's actually not the dealbreaker here. Neither is Rudd, who fares decently in a thankless role, his charisma partially shelved as the uptight Elliot spends most of the picture dutifully following the family's marching orders. 

Ortega is the undeniable star of this, and while she can play moody teens in her sleep by now, she holds the film together as a still grieving Ridley, whose pain is only compounded by a father she can't connect with. Poulter's performance as the spoiled, patronizing nepo baby is also a highlight, but by the time Sheperd gets his, the plot's already preoccupied with redeeming Elliot, who treats his own daughter as badly as the Leopolds. 

Rather than settling on a tone, the story's all over the map, squeezing what it can into a run time that feels longer than its 107 minutes. Luckily, the zany acting turns and occasional flashes of creativity do help keep everything afloat once Scharfman's script flies off the rails in the last two acts. While not quite funny enough to qualify as a comedy, but containing too few scares to pass as horror, its closing minutes feel unearned, leaving us to wonder how much better this could have been with a more consistent vision.