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Mickey 17 delves into themes of technology, capitalism, and the philosophical tension between identity and autonomy. Directed by Bong Joon-ho, the film centers on Mickey (played by Robert Pattinson), a downcast individual evading loan sharks. He makes the daring decision to become an “expendable,” a being who can be repeatedly “reprinted” after death, joining a space mission led by Kenneth Marshall (Mark Ruffalo in a comedic nod to Donald Trump), a disillusioned former politician from Earth who aspires to establish a new society on a distant planet.
The storyline also intricately weaves in the significance of sauce. (Spoilers follow.)
Marshall’s wife, Ylfa (Toni Collette), is portrayed as having an intense fascination with sauce, declaring to the ship’s crew that “sauce is the true litmus test of civilization.” The crew subsists on bland, calorie-controlled rations throughout their four-year journey to the planet Niflheim, while the Marshalls indulge in sumptuous meals replete with vibrant sauces and presentations in their private quarters. Upon their arrival on Niflheim, Ylfa’s enthusiasm ignites as she envisions creating sauces with the native species they encounter.
The film uses its science fiction setting as an allegory for class and racial dynamics. The Marshalls’ ambition to create a new “pure” race on Niflheim leads to drastic measures, such as banning sexual activity on the ship to conserve energy. They promise that once the new society is established, they will facilitate a lavish orgy, culminating in the births of this envisioned population. Within the constraints of a calorie-restricted environment, Ylfa’s obsession with sauce serves as a means of self-indulgence, as she experiments with her culinary creations using her crew members as willing participants.
Sauce is not an essential component of sustenance; fundamental foods like steak, chicken, or vegetables can be nutritious on their own. Sauce, in this context, is a luxury—an indulgence meant solely for enjoyment.
French haute cuisine, which revolves significantly around sauce, lays the groundwork for fine dining. The five mother sauces articulated by Auguste Escoffier during the early 20th century defined the culinary practices of French nobility before influencing the rise of bourgeois dining. This style became sought-after and spread globally, shaping what many consider the gold standard of fine dining, where beautifully crafted sauces are essential for any dish to attain elevated status.
The concept of sauce isn’t limited to French cuisine; various cultures contribute their interpretations, such as moles, toums, and chimichurris, all of which demand equal expertise and dedication as any classic French sauce. However, the establishment and global spread of French culinary traditions, particularly through colonial influences, positioned it as the archetype of contemporary fine dining. If a meal lacked multiple courses and sauce, it fell short of being classified as fine dining.
This perception has been slowly evolving. While chefs are now more willing to branch out and feature diverse culinary traditions like Mexican or Senegalese tasting menus, culinary education still heavily emphasizes the fundamentals of French sauces and stocks, reinforcing the perception that fine dining should adhere to these established norms.
Consequently, Ylfa’s sauce fixation becomes a powerful symbol of her and her husband’s values, representing the stark contrast between elite enjoyment and the laborious underpinnings of a deeply stratified society. A poignant moment occurs when the Marshalls host Mickey for dinner—his steak, unadorned and presented with only its own juices, starkly contrasts with the elaborate sauces enjoyed by the Marshalls and another officer, Kai. It is a clear reminder of his expendable status; why waste exquisite sauce on someone deemed less valuable?
However, Ylfa’s sauce creations reflect superficiality rather than authenticity. For instance, she hastily prepares a sauce from a native creature by merely decapitating it and blending it, revealing her disregard for the craftsmanship typically associated with culinary excellence. Her approach mirrors the attitude of historical colonizers, who often lacked an appreciation for the artistry required to create truly refined dishes.
The scientists, pilots, and crew aboard the ship likely yearned for the complexity of a bearnaise sauce—something that would evoke memories of a world beyond mere sustenance and remind them of a culinary heritage rich in tradition and diversity that was once accessible to all. A sauce symbolizing hope could signify a chance to recreate the vibrant culinary landscape they left behind, without reliance on an expendable alternative.
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