REVIEW: Mickey 17

In 2019, when Parasite captivated both audiences and critics, it became an instant classic. While the film awards season is often unpredictable and sometimes controversial, Parasite triumphed with three Oscars—four if you count the Best International Feature Film award for South Korea—and made history as the first non-English language film to win Best Picture. Director Bong Joon Ho accepted his awards and set the stage for what would come. With this remarkable achievement behind him, Bong faced the daunting challenge of creating a film that could meet the high expectations following the success of Parasite

Enter Mickey 17. The film follows Mickey Barnes (Robert Pattinson), a failed macaron shop owner who escapes his bloodthirsty loan sharks by signing up for a space colonization mission. The expedition, led by failed congressman Kenneth Marshall (Mark Ruffalo), aims to establish a human settlement on an icy planet called Niflheim. With no valuable skills to indicate on his application,  Mickey takes on the role of an “Expendable,” a job where his sole purpose is to die. Again and again. 

Body reprinting technology restores Mickey Barnes (Robert Pattinson) after dying

 

Equipped with technology that allows his body to be reprinted and his memories backed up onto a storage device, Mickey acts as a test dummy for the scientists on board. A rapid-fire montage throws us into the numerous deaths Mickey has undergone with forceful brutality as he repeatedly inhales viruses so the scientists can figure out a vaccine and are exposed to harmful levels of radiation to study how it impacts the human body.  In other words, he’s a lab rat modified with the wonders of technology. It’s with this concept that the movie blasts off, throwing us into the captivating realms of science fiction and the potential future that awaits us. It creates the question of to what extent people in power treat those below them as disposable, all in the name of pursuing a better future that doesn’t encapsulate everyone. 

Another standout thread in Mickey 17 is how it bluntly immerses the audience in the reality of American politics and the distinct privilege possessed by some, even in outer space. With cult-like followers sporting red caps, a flair for bravado, and a close brush with political downfall, Mark Ruffalo’s character, Kenneth Marshall, unmistakably echoes a certain president. Interestingly, the film wrapped production around 2023—meaning that many of its eerily familiar political parallels emerged before some real-world events had even unfolded; Director Bong Joon Ho has stated that Marshall was not explicitly modeled after Trump, yet the similarities are hard to ignore. However, the film’s political commentary extends far beyond American politics. Much like its exploration of humanity, ethics, and mortality through the concept of body printing, Mickey 17 also delves into themes of power, herd mentality, and righteous superiority. History is connected, is what seems to be the theme. 

Kenneth Marshall (Mark Ruffalo) and his wife, Yfla Marshall (Toni Collette)

All in all, Bong Joon Ho takes on a lot with Mickey 17. It’s wholly experimental, blending genres and tackling weighty concepts while maintaining a sharp sense of humor. Yet, rather than fully immersing itself in science fiction, the film uses the genre as a platform for political commentary, often making its speculative elements feel secondary. With so many ideas in play, it can be difficult to focus on just one and they become generalized. In comparison to Parasite, Mickey 17 is more of a chaotic rollercoaster, but one that remains deeply enjoyable in its tumult. It confronts viewers with the darker sides of reality, caricaturing figures and traits in a way that teeters between humor and discomfort. And, like Parasite, it retains Bong’s signature artistic flair. Mickey 17 is not Parasite, and it never will be. But that’s not necessarily a bad thing and I’m looking forward to all the wonderful, thought-provoking films he’ll make. 



REVIEW: Flow

Some call it a film for children; others criticize it as lazy and aimless storytelling. Some even find it boring. But after watching the animated film “Flow,” I can see why it has captivated audiences worldwide. 

“Flow” follows a cat trying to survive in a post-apocalyptic world where the water is continuously rising. The film’s protagonist, simply known as Cat, must work together with a group of animals to stay alive, including the Labrador, the Lemur, the Capybara and the Secretarybird. 

The film’s plot is loose and meandering, reflecting its unconventional creation process. Director Laila Bērziņa chose to forgo traditional storyboarding and worked without any deleted scenes, allowing the narrative to develop organically. This stream-of-consciousness approach lends the film a natural and almost dream-like quality that some viewers may find aimless. Yet for others, it’s this unpredictability that makes “Flow” feel so authentic, like a visual diary rather than a structured story. 

One of the most striking elements of “Flow” is its complete lack of dialogue. Instead, the film relies entirely on music and sound to convey emotion and progress the plot. The absence of spoken words forces the viewer to pay attention to the soft, pastel visuals in order to keep track of what is happening. This makes it impossible to absentmindedly scroll on your phone — you have to be present. The score, composed by Latvian musician Ilze Kalniņa, heightens the immersion with its haunting melodies. Through this unique combination of visual storytelling and sound design, “Flow” proves that a film doesn’t need dialogue to be moving.

The animation style of “Flow” is just as unique as its storytelling approach. Entirely created using Blender, a free and open-source graphics software, Flow stands as a testament to the power of independent animation. The decision to use Blender not only gave the film its signature fluidity and hand-crafted feel, but also demonstrated how accessible tools can produce Oscar-winning results.

The film’s critical success is undeniable. It won the Academy Award for Best Animated Feature and Best Original Score, impressively beating out Disney’s Inside Out 2 and Studio Ghibli’s Kaze no Uta. These wins marked Latvia’s first-ever Oscars, and the country erupted in celebration of the country’s recognition. Latvians hailed “Flow” as a victory for both the nation and the animation team.

Despite being an animated film, and therefore often perceived as child-oriented, “Flow” resonates with audiences of all ages. Its mix of tension, tenderness and visual beauty makes it not just a film to watch but a film to experience. While it might not appeal to everyone, “Flow” undeniably pushes the boundaries of what animation can achieve and challenges us to see storytelling through a new lens.

REVIEW: Mary Poppins

I had fond feelings but not much memory of Mary Poppins (1964), so when the Michigan Theatre showed this iconic, classic film, I was excited to re-explore the magical wonders and musical adventures the movie took me on in elementary school. At first, I feared the story would be too childish to enjoy, but I had a rather pleasant experience even as an adult.

The story takes place in early 20th-century London and around Jane and Michael Banks, the troublesome and ill-mannered children of George and Winifred Banks. Though wealthy and of respectable status, George and Winifred are emotionally distant parents. After Jane and Michael keep chasing away the nannies Winifred hires, George decides to take matters into his own hands and find the strictest nanny possible. Against his expectations, Mary Poppins arrives and immediately captures the innocent hearts of Jane and Michael with her rosy cheeks, magic items, and mysterious background. With Bert, a cheerful and kind street musician who works multiple odd jobs, Mary Poppins brings the children on unimaginable journeys while instilling discipline and moral principles through fun songs. Though written for children, the musical quality and melody of the songs in Mary Poppins, such as “A Spoonful of Sugar,” “Feed the Birds,” and the legendary “Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious,” captivate audiences of all ages.

I was most surprised by Mary Poppins’ stoic, strict, and prideful personality because I imagined a nanny to possess a more soft-spoken and gentle quality. However, actress Julie Andrews’ portrayal of confidence and quiet kindness brought to life the perfect nanny for Jane and Michael, who did not have a consistent adult figure in their lives. In contrast to Mary’s authoritative demeanor, Dick Van Dyke’s character, Bert, is goofy and nurturing in his own way. His Cockney accent and regular fourth-wall-breaking antics bring a lighthearted energy and make each scene more immersive.

I can see why this movie made such a deep impression on me as a kid. For younger audiences, Mary Poppins is a film that fosters imagination in the mundane scenes of daily life, inspires hope for a more exciting future career, and helps children identify the simpler joys in even doing chores. On the other hand, for adult viewers, this movie serves as an example of good parenthood and an exploration of family dynamics, specifically highlighting how misunderstandings and emotional neglect can influence children. This thematic element encourages adult viewers to evaluate the method and significance of nurturing emotional bonds within their own families.

Although the storytelling starts strong while setting the scene and introducing the main characters, the plot grows frustratingly slow without much character development or world-building, which is when I had to remind myself that children are the target audience. Even though this movie does not demand a re-watch, Mary Poppins deserves its name as a beloved classic and enjoyed best as a leisurely, nostalgic experience.

REVIEW: Mufasa: The Lion King

Despite the many negative reviews surrounding the musical drama film Mufasa: The Lion King, I actually really enjoyed it. The storyline acts as both a prequel and a sequel to the original animated The Lion King. While it’s not life-changing or particularly essential, it’s a fun film that adds to the world-building of the original in an endearing way. Perhaps it’s because I had low expectations and didn’t know exactly what to expect, but I found the online reviews overly harsh for a movie primarily directed toward children.

The plot begins with the lion cub Kiara, Simba’s daughter, who is frightened by a large thunderstorm. She doubts her capabilities and expresses that she could never be brave like her grandfather, Mufasa. In response, Rafiki, an elderly and wise mandrill, tells her a story to encourage her. He recounts how Mufasa was at her age and how he grew up to become the great king we saw in The Lion King. Mufasa, who we originally see as proud, confident, and courageous, is depicted as more vulnerable and dispirited in his youth. He struggles to believe in himself or accept praise, which seems hard to believe given his personality in his adult form. Through the animals Mufasa encounters on his journey, the film explores themes of family, belonging, and love. His journey proves his worthiness as king and highlights the qualities that make him a true leader. The plot is a coming-of-age story, fitting for its intended audience. This aspect resonated with me, and I believe many children would connect with it too.

The narration is engaging, with the story progressing at a good pace. However, while Mufasa’s character development is well-paced, the development of other characters either lacks depth or, particularly toward the end, feels rushed. As the movie reaches its climax, the character arcs become hurried, especially in the conclusion, which makes their actions seem almost out of character. One factor that held the character development back was the CGI animation. While the visuals were strikingly realistic and beautiful, the realism made it harder for characters to express themselves facially or display more creative body language. It also became difficult to differentiate the lions, as they generally shared the same appearance aside from slight changes and their voices. While these details may stick out more to adults, younger children may not notice them as much, meaning a cartoon version might have appealed to a wider audience.

This placed a greater emphasis on the voice acting and music, which I think the film did well. The instrumental soundtrack was a great homage to the original, with many elements inspired by or directly recreated from it. I also appreciated that there was often music playing in the background. In addition to the bright sunshine and natural scenery, this contributed to the triumphant and joyful emotions in the film. However, one disappointing aspect was the singing, which I felt could have been of higher quality, as it could have been another opportunity to express the character’s personality. 

I think the film’s weaknesses largely stem from the characters not feeling as relatable. However, most of the movie’s strengths lie in its overarching messages and foreshadowing of events that occur in the original. I think it would be a great film for young children to understand self-growth, confidence, and friendship. Though it may be an unpopular opinion, I don’t think it is a waste of time or detracts from the original The Lion King in any way, unlike other prequels and sequels I’ve seen. I would still recommend it to people of all ages, but it’s important to approach it with an open mind. 

REVIEW: Wicked

After several disappointing movie-musical adaptations in recent years, I was skeptical that Wicked would be any different. As the first musical I had ever seen, and on Broadway in New York no less, I had especially high expectations. However, I was pleasantly surprised to discover that the hype surrounding the movie was justified. Under the guidance of director Jon M. Chu, with a talented main cast including Ariana Grande (Glinda), Cynthia Erivo (Elphaba), and Jonathan Bailey (Fiyero), Wicked offered a refreshing take with a charm that still retained the essence of the Broadway play that sparked my love for musical theatre.

Based on Gregory Maguire’s novel Wicked, the story is a prequel to The Wizard of Oz. The main character, Elphaba, grows up experiencing hardships due to her unusual green skin. Ostracized by even her own family, she is nonetheless loved by her nanny. Because of this, she grows up with a pure heart. When she sends her younger sister to Shiz University, Elphaba catches the eye of Madame Morrible, played by Michelle Yeoh. Morrible is a famous magical history professor and the object of admiration for Glinda, a beautiful and popular girl who has lived a life essentially the opposite of Elphaba’s. As the story progresses, it explores the complex relationship between the two women. Their character development is one of the highlights of the story, touching on themes of friendship, values, purpose, and societal expectations. Grande and Erivo’s chemistry, both on and off screen, brought this relationship to life brilliantly. 

Despite both the musical and the movie running for roughly three hours, the movie only covers half of the original story. I did feel that the pacing dragged at times, with the plot progressing slowly—almost frustratingly so. However, this slower pace gave more creative freedom to the director and actors. Compared to the stage production, Elphaba and Glinda felt more alive in this version. Their characters were more developed and complex, which created a deeper connection with the audience. I particularly enjoyed Glinda’s nuanced portrayal, whereas in the play, she seemed more ditzy and one-dimensional.

Though I find live singing and dancing more impactful, the movie was still incredibly immersive. The film’s close-up shots of the characters, their costumes, and facial expressions added a level of intimacy that the stage production can’t match. The lighting and camera angles also contributed to a richer atmosphere. The movie was visually striking and the vivid colors truly brought the fantasy world of Oz to life. These added details allowed for more foreshadowing, extensive world-building, and deeper character development. It never felt like a simple recording of the play. 

A friend of mine, who is more versed in musical theatre techniques, also offered some insightful commentary on how film is a unique medium. On stage, only those sitting in the front row get to see the actors’ faces clearly, and even then, it’s impossible to catch all the small details. It’s difficult to compare movies and theatre because they offer different experiences and strengths. Perhaps that’s why I remain skeptical about many movie-musical adaptations retaining a high quality—they’re often unfairly compared to the original. Nevertheless, Wicked is proof that a great musical-movie adaptation is possible.

REVIEW: Wicked

Good news! Wicked, the film adaptation of the first act of the smash hit Broadway musical of the same name, is wonderful.

Directed by Jon M. Chu, Wicked is a prequel to The Wizard of Oz. Based generally off of the novel by Gregory Maguire (Wicked: The Life and Times of the Wicked Witch of the West; unlike the rest of involved properties, decidedly not PG), as well as the 1939 movie, Wicked centers around Elphaba (a standout performance by Cynthia Erivo), who will become the Wicked Witch of the West, and Glinda (Ariana Grande), who will become the Good Witch of the North.

Wicked is a movie-musical, and unapologetically so. The chorus is vast and excellent. The choreography (by Christopher Scott) ranges from crisp and upbeat to gentle and heartfelt; and, when it’s happening, there’s a good balance between close-up shots and larger crowd shots. All of the songs from the Broadway musical’s first act are included, though almost all have been expanded (one, in service of a fun, fan-service cameo, so much so that it essentially constitutes a new song). The sets and costuming are minimally CGI, vast, bright, and colorful. Like many musicals, the whole effect can be a bit campy, but it’s not garish, and it doesn’t shy away from darker aspects of its plot.

The movie opens in the “present day” of the Wizard of Oz, after Dorothy has killed the Wicked Witch. Glinda arrives in her bubble to a town in Munchkinland, whose residents are rejoicing that the Witch has just been killed (“No One Mourns the Wicked”). After a short flashback detailing Elphaba’s birth, Glinda confesses that she did, in fact, know the Witch: the two went to school together, at Shiz University.

Grande is at her weakest musically in her opening number: this is the most “legit” (pseudo-operatic) piece for Glinda, and Grande lacks the technique to pull it off. Her voice sounds overly thin and weak, particularly on the higher notes. Presumably to compensate, the autotune and sound editing, generally tasteful, are palpably stronger here. Grande does make a much better showing for herself in the rest of the film, though. Most of Glinda’s singing is more pop than classical, which Grande does with aplomb; her performance in “Popular,” an upbeat number in which Glinda decides to give Elphaba a makeover, more than makes up for “No One Mourns the Wicked.” Grande also has impeccable comedic timing, aided by her sidekicks Pfanee (Bowen Yang) and Shenshen (Bronwyn James), and her chemistry with Erivo is impeccable. Erivo is the stand-out here, with a wry, rich, nuanced portrayal and a glorious singing voice. Her “Defying Gravity,” which ends the film, is a show-stopper in more ways than one.

While there are darker political machinations happening in the background, the heart of the film is Glinda and Elphaba’s relationship, and its slow shift from enemies to friendship. It feels real, and it’s refreshingly imperfect. They hurt each other, but there’s a sweet and genuine core to it, which heightens the stakes when the two must eventually break apart to Good and Wicked.