It is not that Mickey 17, a new absurdist science fiction film by Bong Joon-ho, is predictable. Or, if it is, its predictability resides in its comfortable familiarity to fans of Bong’s films. Most of Bong’s work varies wildly in content and genre, from the creepy domestic thrills of Parasite (2019) to the monstrous mayhem of The Host (2006) and the big-picture science fiction of Snowpiercer (2013). Where they are most alike, however, is in themes and form. The over-the-top, somewhat heightened performances he draws from his actors is consistent from film to film. His design work is rich and stylish. However they are arranged, his themes always settle on the same targets. The rich are bad, power inevitably leads to corruption, people should be nicer, and the lower strata of society will inevitably break free against the upper classes by taking matters into their own hands.

Within those expectations, Mickey 17 represents a generally entertaining work of science fiction satire. It is not subtle, but then popular Korean filmmakers rarely are. It boasts some interesting ideas, is funny where it means to be, is slickly produced, and well performed. Viewers that have been waiting six years for a new work like Parasite might be underwhelmed. Anybody who watched Snowpiercer will have a particularly good measure for whether or not Mickey 17 will appeal. It is a funnier film, but the same exaggerated abstraction applies.

Robert Pattinson plays Mickey Barnes, a mid-21st century loser who accepts a low-paying job on an interplanetary colony mission. He is an ‘expendable’, regularly thrown into hazardous situations without concern for his welfare. Each time he dies a fresh body is 3D-printed and infused with a recording of his memories. When he first meet Mickey, he is lying in a snowy crevasse waiting to die. When he improbably survives, and returns to his colony ship, he finds he has already been replaced: a freshly printed duplicate is living in his quarters and sleeping with his girlfriend Nasha (Naomi Ackie).

Mickey (both of him) is a typical underdog protagonist, ultimately pitted against the cult leader of the colony Kenneth Marshall (Mark Ruffalo) and his controlling wife Ylfa (Toni Collette). Ruffalo enthusiastically plays his role to excess, performing a weird blend of Marlon Brando and Donald Trump. It isn’t subtle, but then nothing in Mickey 17 is. There are similarly absurd turns – albeit perhaps not quite so excessive – from Steven Yuen, Holliday Grainger, and Daniel Henshall.

More introspective elements are present, but side-lined. Mickey does begin to ponder his existence and identity once he has been duplicated, but it feels more like a character element than a central theme. This is entertaining stuff, but as noted above it feels far from Bong at his best. Best to enjoy Mickey 17 for what it is, and not to dwell on what other kinds of stories and themes its set-up could generate.