Blade Runner: A Beautiful Nightmare

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Rating: 9 out of 10.

And the themed week begins! It was a very close run thing on what to decide on, but a decision had to be made. Don’t worry if it your choice wasn’t picked this time – there were some great suggestions, and I’ll be sure to return to some of them.

But here we are, people. And it’s the end of the world as we know it. It does feel rather apt with the whole coronavirus debacle, but Fraggle’s End Of The World Movies has won first prize. And what’s a better way to start it than with an absolute classic?

Blade Runner, the 1982 sci-fi dystopia, follows Rick Deckard (Harrison Ford), a retired ‘blade runner’, who’s called back into action to retire – a nice way of saying kill – four renegade replicants: Roy Batty (Rutger Hauer), Pris (Daryl Hannah), Leon Kowalski (Brion James) and Zhora (Joanna Cassidy).

I’ve never been too infatuated by science fiction. Y’know, aliens, space ships, cyborgs – it gets old, fast. Even classics of the genre like Alien, Close Encounters of the Third Kind and Star Wars can feel predictable and outdated, regurgitated too frequently to have any trace of originality. Perhaps that’s not their fault directly, and rather a dearth of new ideas in a floundering industry, but it speaks volumes than Blade Runner feels as new and innovative than ever.

It’s a film that transcends simple genres. In fact, it’s best description is probably that it’s larger than any one genre. It’s a neo-noir, it’s a sci-fi, and it’s an action. The 1940 detective noir, complete with stark lighting, moody shadows, neutral clothing, and constant acid rain, mixed with 21st century futurism – replicants, Voight-Kampff tests and creepy talking Kaiser dolls – creates the perfect dystopia.

Obviously, you can’t talk about this film without mentioning its stunning visuals. The fire belching city, the rain swept streets, the claustrophobic smoke, the massive advertisement screens and ominous blimps. In 1980s Los Angeles, there was a particularly high influx of Asian immigrants, which goes to explain the melting pot of miscible culture here. Food bars, animal markets and hurried babbling all create a tangible atmosphere. This a rotting world, with smothering pollution, artificial animals and second-class citizens. It comes across as an abandoned planet left to become landfill, ecosystems wiped out and the air smoggy. And, while the time period may not be exactly accurate (the film is set in 2019), Blade Runner feels so realistic to the point that it’s no longer science fiction, but a contemporary thriller. Only flying cars feel uber-ambitious here, but the rest is a stark reminder of the downfall we have all ready begun.

Is it an End Of The World Movie? There’s no imminent threat to life here, and in the theatrical cut there’s actually a happy ending. Yet, Blade Runner feels like one of the best of these around. Similarly to its slow churning plot and deliberate characters, this is a world slowly crumbling to its core. It’s far scarier than a meteor or alien invasion, because it’s real – it’s right in front of us. The ravaging and rapid explotation of advancing technology in striving for a perfect capitalistic world and the effects of that on society and environment is bitterly and beautifully captured here.

Because, after all, Blade Runner is a beautiful film. There’s a dreamlike quality to it, something larger than all of us. Much like many of the characters – Deckard, Batty, or even J.F. Sebastian with his rapidly ageing Methuselah syndrome – the film has a steely surface, but a tender, wounded, conflicted and synthetic soul. As Batty dies, we wonder whether those are tears in his eyes, or his ever present sweat from the apocalyptic climate, or the hammering torrent of water. Is there even a difference? Life is short and meaningless, but that’s all the more reason to savour it. When it’s time to die, there’s nothing to hide – and that’s something we may have to realise sooner rather than later.

“All those moments will be lost in time, like tears in rain.“

It’s a surprisingly philosophical film. It makes us question the meaning of life, the precariousness of living, the universal morals of our world. Who are the bad guys? Who are the good guys? What does it truly mean to be alive? What does it mean to be a replicant? Humans have long lusted for blood and violence, and however civilised we pretend to be, our primal instincts for survival will always win – we will always feel safer after pressing the red button. While Deckard is sent out to kill the replicants, his life a chore and every second dismal and repetitive, Batty is trying to live, gain more time. Replicants only have a four year life span that must be savoured before death. Humans have years and years – life is cheap, common. By saving Deckard at the end of the film, Batty gives him a chance to be reborn.

I think there is a Christian subtext there: Eldon Tyrell (Joe Turkel) plays God as the creator of the replicants; Batty is the Christ of the story, nail in hand and dove in arm, asking his father for more time, but, ultimately, must die; and Deckard is provided salvation and cleaned of his sins.

So the question is: who is the real evil? God? Jesus? Or the humans saved?

Ridley Scott’s direction is stunning. Harrison Ford is… Harrison Ford – his strained relationship between Scott and subsequently dour attitude only goes to improve Deckard’s character. Rutger Hauer, who unfortunately passed away in 2019 (coincidence?), gives a performance which can only be described as marvel. Ford didn’t like Sean Young either, but hers is one of the most interesting stories throughout, where a person has to question their own existence. I love Gaff (Edward James Olmos) – his mysterious, bit-part, origami making recital is compelling, and leads to a greater question:

Is Deckard a replicant? Originally, that wasn’t how it was intended, but the evidence is undeniable. Whether it’s Gaff’s memories planted in his head, or if he’s still a human, we’re asked – was any of it worth it? Is it now time for him to live? It’s another twist ending, and another brilliant one.

For obvious reasons, Blade Runner is not a comfortable film to watch. It’s violent. It’s harsh. And it delves deep into the vulnerability of life. Struggling at the box office at the beginning, it’s a film that took many cuts till it reached perfection – but now, thirty nine years later, it is very close. It’s one of those films that requires at least two watches to fully appreciate, but possibly thousands to fully understand.

Blade Runner – 9 out of 10