When Ridley Scott's 1982 detective noir/sci-fi mashup “Blade
Runner” first hit theatres it was thrashed by critics and failed to draw an
audience, much like John Carpenter's “The Thing”, which was released at
the same time. The summer of 1982 belonged to Spielberg's “E.T.”, but in
the years since, both Carpenter's gruelling paranoia-infused sci-fi/horror and
Scott's cerebral future noir vision of dystopia 2019 have been reassessed and
gained the adoration of film fans around the world.
That's worth bearing in
mind considering Denis Villeneuve's belated sequel failed to draw much of a
cinema-going audience, but did gather a vast array of five star reviews. Some
have theorised that the long-winded 163 minute running time is responsible,
while others blame a lack of 'broad appeal', but perhaps there are just some
movies viewers are more comfortable viewing in their own home? Think about it,
how many people will have discovered Scott's original on home video, DVD, or
any number of other ancillary markets instead of at the cinema? Indeed, with a
trip to the cinema being an increasing pain in the arse (ill-mannered
patrons, rude staff, escalating ticket prices, an avalanche of pre-show
advertising), it's hardly surprising that BR2049 didn't set the box
office alight.
But enough about the film's financial failings over a short
period of time in the temporary home of a darkened room, because the true
lifespan of Villeneuve's sci-fi epic will be in whichever context the audience
will choose to experience it. Personally, that was in the comfort of my own
living room with the Blu-Ray that I'd pre-ordered months prior.
Belated sequels represent a treacherous path to walk for
many reasons, including the very real risk of taking a large, steaming dump
over a beloved original...
Click “READ MORE” below to continue...
Mercifully, Blade Runner 2049 is an absolute triumph,
building upon the world presented in Scott's '82 original with logical
extrapolations (which are further explored in the short film “Prologues” on
the extra features, the most impressive being 2022: Blackout).
Screenwriters Hampton Fancher (who gave birth to the original film's
screenplay with David Peoples) and Michael Green pull off a remarkable
feat, opening up fresh avenues for storytelling while grounding the entire
narrative firmly within a fully-realised world that lives, breathes, and makes
complete sense in and of itself. Rich thematic themes provide much to consider
and will no doubt inspire decades of debate in the years to come while
established mysteries – such as the possibility of Harrison Ford's Deckard
being a Replicant – are added to without providing any definitive answer in the
most satisfying way. Indeed, the film's mysteries are more fascinating than
their possible answers, open to interpretation without ever fobbing off the
audience with half-baked concepts.
Visually sumptuous (and a litany of other adjective-laden
descriptors) can only go so far in describing Roger Deakins' gorgeous
cinematography as we explore rain-drenched Los Angeles, the rusted trash heap
of San Diego, and a sand-swallowed Las Vegas. The film is also a pleasure to
the ears as Hans Zimmer's score walks the tightrope, offering up enough
familiar sounds (e.g. those delicate single electronic notes that seem to
fall off into a deep chasm) while also striving to bring something new to
the aural palette of the Blade Runner universe.
At 163 minutes (10 of which are credits), though,
it's definitely a bit too gradual in its pacing, but at least the world on
screen is so richly textured it's not a chore to linger here for a while
longer. Also, at times 2049 feels too reverential of its source
material, treating it with a level of seriousness that can occasionally feel
overdone. While Scott's original was evenly balanced between genre pulp fiction
and thoughtful science fiction, Villeneuve's sequel skews the scales much more
over to the cerebral side. The film isn't without action, but can can on rare
occasions feel in need of just a small snifter of adrenaline.
However, these two criticisms are pretty damn small in the
shadow of Blade Runner 2049's masterful achievements. Villeneuve and
company have done the impossible in crafting a sequel that not only respects
the source material, but builds upon it appropriately, exploring both familiar
and new ideas, and does so with a jaw-dropping sense of style and artistry.
What's more, it dares to trust the audience will follow without the need for
dumbing down the plot or characterisation, nor machine gun editing. Much like
Christopher Nolan's Interstellar, Villeneuve's Blade Runner 2049
considers the viewer smart enough to come along for the ride and be able to
interpret and unpack the myriad mysteries over repeat visits. It deserves every
bit of adoration and study afforded to its predecessor.
That's the
review part done, now let's get socio-political...
Even with the vast selection of adoring reviews, the film,
of course, attracted a few scathing side-swipes – because it wouldn't be the 21st
Century without the perpetually offended going into a movie to specifically
find something to be exasperated by. Apparently every female character is a 'hooker
or a victim' … which, if you actually watch the film without a boiling
agenda in your gut, is patently untrue.
Let's think for a moment about the world presented in Blade
Runner 2049. Overpopulated and polluted, this is a world where the real
opportunities in life are “off world”, but you can only go there if you're rich
enough, healthy enough, or useful enough. If you don't fit the bill then you're
trapped on Earth, so the majority of the populace is essentially in the realm
of 'second class citizens'. Furthermore, with the Human vs Replicant troubles (“skinjob”
is a slur for Replicants) where the artificial beings are created for slave
labour, menial/dangerous tasks, or pleasure, it's hardly surprising that some
folks are either not having a great time or are quite simply subjugated.
But let's delve deeper, shall we? Are there female victims
in the film? Yes – and there are also many male victims in the film, but you
don't hear anyone crying about them on Twitter, do you? No, because you never
do. This in itself illustrates the blinkered vision of the perpetually
offended. However, there is much more to the female characters than what the
Offendotrons would have you believe...
***SPOILERS ahead!***
Joi (Ana De Armas) is revealed very early on
to be artificial, she is a digital projection, a companion software sold by a
multinational corporation. She is who K (Ryan Gosling) returns
home to after a long day of retiring Replicants, of whom he is one (again,
this is revealed very early on in the film). K is despised at work and on
the streets, even his front door has “Fuck off skinner” scrawled across it by
one of his wretched neighbours, and is a very lonely individual with little
sense of power or destiny in his own life. It's hardly surprising then, that he
would want some compassionate company, readily available in the form of Joi.
Now,
Joi is generally sold as a 'made-to-fit' fantasy (as told by the giant
hologram seen later in the film), but K regards her more as a life-long
companion, a wife, a girlfriend, a lover, a confidant, and more all rolled into
one. Indeed, Joi is a loving and caring character whose nature is to be
encouraging, to be a bright shining beacon of good. She sees far more in K than
K sees in himself. But are her feelings true? This is just one of many
mysteries the film offers up, but if a Replicant can develop their own
emotions, why not an A.I. in the same universe? My take? She does develop her
own complex emotions once she is able to venture into the wider world. Joi may
be a hologram, but her compassion, smarts, humour, and selfless concern with
the well-being of others is very real (her sense of wonder at the falling rain is one of the film's most beautiful moments) … hardly a terrible depiction (digitised
or not) of the female of the species!
Luv (Sylvia Hoeks) is a Replicant, the right
hand woman of corporate giant Niander Wallace (Jared Leto), and
is at all times depicted as being strong, extremely capable, and resilient to
the point of ruthlessness. Her actions are effective, her personality disarming
in the right circumstances, and while she commits some violent acts she is also
conflicted. She sheds a tear while murdering someone, and reacts in a similar
fashion when Wallace callously kills a freshly created Replicant … 'victim' is
not how you would reasonably describe Luv.
Lt. Joshi (Robin Wright) is K's boss in the
LAPD. She is confident, in-charge, and is very concerned with the big picture.
Her true calling in life is to protect the populace for which she is
responsible, even if the harsh realities of the job have compromised the softer
side of her character. In a key moment later in the film she exhibits a great
sense of defiance and strength, an example of true humanity.
Mariette (Mackenzie Davis) is, yes, a
prostitute (you'll never believe it, but such people existed in the real
world before the invention of cinema), however she is also revealed to be a
key member in an underground freedom fighter movement (which is also lead by
a female Replicant). Her motivations aren't simple and she engages with Joi
and K in a complex yet emotional way of her own volition. Considering that
Blade Runner Replicants are viewed as second class citizens within the already
subjugated world of Replicants, Mariette's warm treatment of K is all the more
remarkable. We would have likely seen much more of her in a third film, but the
box office disappointment has surely snuffed out that possibility.
Dr. Ana Stelline (Carla Juri) may not have
many scenes, but she is crucial to the narrative. In addition to be being
highly educated, she is immensely creative and displays a level of compassion
that makes her the most human character of all in the entire film. She, in many
ways, represents the absolute pinnacle of what mankind is capable of at its
best.
Now let's have a look at a few of the male characters. We've
already had a glance at Gosling's “K” (lonely, subjugated, full of
self-doubt and loathing, desperately in search of meaning), but in addition
to the litany of Replicant-hating male goons and male red shirts who are slain
throughout the film (you always need some 'red shirts'), you have Niander
Wallace (Jared Leto), whose God-like nature has rendered him almost
entirely without compassion for his creations. Having been responsible for
making millions of Replicants, we witness his callous lack of regard for them
in a key sequence where he appears to gently care for a 'newborn' Replicant
only to slice open her belly (the similarity to a C-Section is thematically
very important and displays Wallace's impotent rage over a miraculous
engineering mystery that he cannot solve).
Suffice it to say, he is the
main villain of the piece, his complex actions weaved into a murky back story
that includes him saving humanity from starvation while simultaneously
lamenting mankind's qualms over slavery … hardly a nice guy, hardly a man to
look up to, hardly a good representative of the male of the species!
Then there is Mister Cotton (Lennie James)
whose, albeit brief, appearance in the film provides another example of the
evil that men do. Cotton is a weak man, an owner of slave labour who also
happen to be orphaned children, and he's more than willing to sell any of them
to anyone for a decent price with few (or any) questions asked. Putting
it bluntly, Cotton is a reprehensible human being.
Well … I've rambled on long enough, so to conclude: what is
the point in all this?
If you go into a film seeking to be offended then you're
going to come away offended. If you go into a film with blinkered vision then
you're going to miss everything else there is to see.
And let's re-establish something that should have already
been obvious – art is merely a reflection of life, life does not imitate art
– it has been true for centuries, millennia even, and it is still true today,
even in this preposterous situation we now find ourselves in which an art
gallery in Manchester removes a classic and highly regarded painting from
public view for reasons of pearl-clutching censorship dressed up in “debate”,
an act that is doubly offensive not only for its hijacking and muddying of the
important issues being wrestled with right now, but also as it betrays
something extraordinarily insidious: cultural redaction.
You might call all this blethering on 'an agenda', and maybe
it is, and the indulgent length of it all certainly qualifies as a rant (I
do love a good rant). Or perhaps it's more a reaction to the frustratingly
blinkered viewpoint of Twitter-bound misery guts (albeit a relatively small
group of them in this context), or maybe it's just a single voice calling
for a measured response and conversation in these extraordinarily conflicted
times we find ourselves.
Keep repeating: it's only a movie, it's only a movie
… and instead of getting tangled up in 'problematic' semantics, how about
tackling the very serious and very real problems that are facing us, for we're all
human beings even though in many corners of our planet, where truly offensive
things are happening, that is sadly untrue in practice. Never mind the plight
of women in unstable/undeveloped nations, never mind the genital mutilation,
never mind modern slavery, never mind the rise of extremist politics, never
mind the absence of moderation, never mind the genocide, the climate, the
ballooning population, the energy crisis, the threat of nuclear annihilation …
because the Offendotrons are mad as hell.
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