Coming off of a theatrical release that generally fizzled out with critics in 1982, to gaining a reinvigorated interest in 1992 with the Director's Cut, Blade Runner seems to be a film that's been struggling with itself for an odd 30 years or so. Director Ridley Scott has been trying to perfect the film for quite some time, releasing two modified films after the initial release. It's considered a sci-fi masterpiece by some, and an utter mess by others. Those who argue for either side have fairly valid reasons: the visual effects are spectacular, but the characters are shoddy and one-dimensional; the world is one of the most wholly and uniquely realized of any sci-fi picture out there, given within it's singular L.A. setting (and I don't say that lightly), but the story that ends up trailing around these grimy city streets never really travels anywhere as remotely interesting. Cliches are abound, but they may inspire an emotional detachment that's just right for the unfeeling synthetic replicants the movie focuses on. Some may argue that's entirely the point. Whatever argument one may earnestly put forward, the film still, 33 years after it's initial release, tears audiences in half. But with the release of the Final Cut edition in 2007, common audiences and critics alike seem to be finally uniting under the Blade Runner banner. I think I can say, after a good deal of thought, that I'm inclined to join them.I'll admit to having seen Blade Runner before, the first viewing of the theatrical version about seven years ago, which I thoroughly disliked but probably didn't understand, and the second viewing of the 1992 Director's Cut a few years ago. I didn't miss the narration then either. I did, however, gain a much greater appreciation of the film and it's many lofty ambitions. Ridley Scott, coming only three years off of the brilliant Alien, directs the story of a dystopian future in which highly advanced androids, or "replicants", with hardly a thing distinguishing them from actual human beings, are outlawed and essentially banned from earth on account of their dangerous strength, intelligence, and ability to blend in. So, instead of remaining on earth, they are held as slaves on distant planet colonies. If a replicant were to theoretically return to earth, a unique cop, termed a "blade runner", would be responsible for hunting them down. In the film, Rick Deckard, one such blade runner, is forced out of retirement when four replicants mysteriously appear on earth, all skillfully elusive and difficult to track. Deckard's only job is to hunt down the replicants and retire them, "retire" being the apparent euphemism of choice for any synthetic human killers.
From this, the story of Blade Runner is about as complex as a single viewer makes it out to be, and while I don't mind it personally, I don't find it to be that revolutionary. What was revolutionary, however, was the vision, with a 2019 Los Angeles (a prediction about as bad as Back to the Future Part II and it's 2015 pink Mattel hoverboards and self-drying clothes) drenched in faded neon, living billboards, and ceaseless rainfall. Sunlight never reaches this city; it's brightness comes from the fluorescent pools of sordid storefront lights, and the headlights of cars and floating advertisements up above slowly drifting through the populous expanse. These lights fade in and out of abandoned apartment buildings, seeping through windows and holes in the roof where the rain has already won, cracking through the structures and falling in steady patters. This is one beautiful movie, and I personally can't imagine the reaction to the visual effects back in 1982, considering that even today I find it to be so stunningly realized. It's a considerably dirtier dystopia than most, and the entirety of Los Angeles' streets look like seedy back alleys populated by shanty food stands. Perhaps that's what makes it so appealing. It is, perhaps, one of the most "perfect" dystopias, not excessively likely but detailed enough within the framework of its runtime that it seems it can't be anything but real. A vision becomes more than a vision, so to speak. I personally can't say that about a lot of movies, that, while viewing, the director had me thoroughly convinced that this place was real, that it could exist.
I really don't think I can give a greater compliment to this movie. I still hold that the story doesn't really go anywhere, but it doesn't really need to. It goes exactly where it requires. After all, this is not a movie about it's plot, and the dialogue itself is evidence of that. There is not a great deal of talking going on in the film, not even from Deckard himself. While it would've bothered me within other films that the main character had pretty much no depth, I enjoyed it here. It feels almost as if the viewer isn't allowed to have an emotional attachment to Deckard, but instead must watch with a cold and unfeeling eye, left with time to ruminate about the nature of the replicants' humanity and the role of Deckard in taking it away from them. Or are they even human at all?This is not an uncommon question in the world of science fiction; in fact, it's a renowned cliche. But the movie is more thoughtful than it lets on; Blade Runner presents several more quandaries. It questions the value of memories, whether real or supplanted, and on the life of a person, or replicant, who holds memories. It has some morality qualms, one of which I may have already stated. None of these are directly stated, and none of these are directly addressed. The movie ends abruptly, and the viewer is left feeling empty, but only as empty as the replicants whose lives will end before they can understand them. Or will they?
Two viewings, and two editions, after my first viewing of Blade Runner, and I'm now finding that my opinion of the film has changed quite a bit. I'm convinced it's good, and I'm confident in calling it great. But this futuristic vision is not perfect. From minor issues, like ham-fisted additions within the final cut to give hints for the "Deckard's a replicant" theory (not a spoiler, still a theory), to larger ones, like some dialogue that, while rare, is not particularly brilliant (given, the narration was much worse). And, of course, I still feel relatively torn on the overall effectiveness of a story that, perhaps, a viewer is supposed to feel emotionally distant from. But this film is undoubtedly one of Scott's most stunning and ambitious projects, resting in the pantheon of truly awe-inspiring science fiction worlds. The rest is not so awe-inspiring, but it's appropriately subdued. Less action oriented and a lot more profound than a good amount of science fiction narrative, despite it's lack of a complex story, Blade Runner is a shining example of cerebral sci-fi.
