1) The Man Who Fell to Earth by Walter Tevis-- the author of The Queen's Gambit, Tevis struggled with alcoholism most of his life, and this beautiful, sad novel uses a single humanoid alien on a mission to find food and water and resources for his advanced but dying race to explore loneliness and addiction-- Jerome Newton, the industrious, resilient, and polite alien slowly builds an empire by introducing advanced technology to earthlings, but along the way he experiences futility, ennui, and profound disconnection-- and alcohol seems to assuage this;
2) Bong Joon Ho's new film Mickey 17 is a fun and satirical journey into space and the ends of identity-- we go to the far reaches of the galaxy, where a hysterically Trumpy Mark Ruffalo is leading a band of colonists to settle on the ice planet Niflheim and one of the members of the expedition is an "expendable"-- which means they can send him to die over and over and then reprint him with most of his memories intact . . . Mickey Barnes becomes an expendable because of money issues-- and this criminal/mystery subplot is underdeveloped and a bit silly, but that is no matter-- because it gets us out into space and exploring what it means to be a unique person . . . or what philosopher's call the "Ship pf Theseus"dilemma-- because (spoiler!) not only is there a 17th version of Mickey at the heart of this movie, but also Mickey 18-- and so the usual "multiple" hijinks ensue, with Pattinson doing a great job face-acting the subtle differences between the two Mickeys and his girlfriend Nasha showing true love for both her soulmates . . . because they really are both versions of Mickey-- but which one deserves to live . . . and the aliens of Niflheim kind of steal the show at the end, an added bonus that makes this epic satirical sci-fi not only a philosophical conundrum but also an entertaining and snowy visual maelstrom.
