Showing posts with label Blade Runner. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Blade Runner. Show all posts

Wednesday, July 24, 2019

Rest in Peace, Rutger Hauer

Man, this one hurts: Blade Runner Star Rutger Hauer Has Passed Away.

Hopefully he's facing his creator right now, with a scowl, and a demand:

I want more life...fucker.

Here's a link to one of my oldest SK posts about Blade Runner, one of my all-time favorite films.


Perhaps we'll meet at the Tannhäuser Gate some day.

Monday, November 15, 2010

I've … seen things you people wouldn't believe part 2: Deckard as replicant “ruins” Blade Runner?

I came across this post today on Nailyournovel.com and felt compelled to comment, as it concerns one of my top 10 films of all time: Blade Runner.

I’m not arguing with the author’s larger point that the plot of a story can be “squeezed” too much, and that too many “twists” can spoil the soup of a novel, if you will. I’m sure this is quite possible. But I happen to think her example to prove this point is a rather poor one: I don’t agree at all that Rick Deckard as replicant ruins Blade Runner.

Why does it weaken the story if Deckard is a machine, just like the machines he’s hunting? It shouldn’t, and doesn’t. Blade Runner is not just a story “about a man who has lost his humanity.” If you think that Deckard is a member of mankind and that Blade Runner offers no other interpretation, then yes, that’s what the film is about: A man who wakes up to his own life after seeing the "life" pulsing in the artificial heart of Roy Batty (Rutger Hauer). But if you add in the Deckard as replicant subtext, it becomes something more. This fascinating scenario deepens the film’s questions about what it means to be a human. Deckard-as replicant allows us to ponder scientific/metaphysical questions like:


  • Are humans mere machines of flesh and blood that also happen to empathize based on an accumulation of memories? Or are they something more?

  • If you could theoretically implant memories in a machine that allow it to empathize, and to comprehend the wonders in the universe and wish for more life due to the accumulation of experience, when would it cease being a machine and become a “human”?

  • Is Sean Young the hottest robot ever? (Yes)
I agree with the writer that the machines are ironically more “alive” than most of the humans in the film. But I don’t think that Deckard also being a replicant robs the film of its power. It merely illuminates the fact that we really don’t know what makes humans special, even today with all our accumulated knowledge as a species. Do we have a divine spark, or are we merely a more complex form of organic life? A future where machines are theoretically indistinguishable from humans is a scary thought, forcing us to rethink what—if anything—makes us special snowflakes in a sprawling, near infinite universe.

To be fair, if Deckard is just a human, the film still allows us to examine these questions through the example of the other replicants. But by not revealing any clues that Deckard is a replicant, Blade Runner sets up our expectations is that he is just a world-weary cop. This allows us to emphathize strongly with Deckard until the final reveal—and the revelation that he just might be a replicant, too. With that comes the realization that we’ve perhaps been empathizing all along with a machine. And that’s pretty amazing in itself.

Speaking of the final reveal, who isn’t blown away when Gaff places the origami unicorn on the landing, and Harrison Ford grimly nods his head, realizing that his dreams and “memories” are likely not his? That’s awesome storytelling in my book. Not a plot stretched too far.

In short, the possibility of Deckard as replicant defies our expectations and makes for a better movie--and a better story too.

Friday, January 25, 2008

...and the Blade Runner bashing continues

Just when I thought the Blade Runner bashing was over, along comes another smug review of its new "Final Cut" release, courtesy of the Slate Web site. Critic Stephen Metcalf accuses the film of not only possessing a light script, weak characters, and pretension--a trio of old, tired saws--but also takes some mean-spirited shots at the fans who have come to its defense. Writes Metcalf:

The mystery of Blade Runner is not that early audiences were so put off by it, but that a quasi-sacred halo has come to surround it, a force field so powerful as to apparently render nuanced critical judgment impossible.

Well, as a card-carrying member of the "cult," let me take a moment to repudiate Metcalf's review.

Metcalf's review is well-written and in some cases, quite correct. Blade Runner has certainly benefitted over the years from "ancillary distribution" on VHS and DVD, which gave ample opportunity to rehabilitate its image. I also had to chuckle at his accurate mocking of the (too) many workprints of BR floating around on video, and the pedantic discussions that spring up around the Web over why one version sucks/rules/is superior to another/is antithetical to Ridley Scott's "vision." I too find these discussions tiresome.

But Metcalf too lightly brushes over the damage inflicted by the 1982 Theatrical Cut, which dumbed down Scott's intended film, added a laughable voice-over, and removed the darkness of the ending and the Deckard-as-replicant subtext. Writes Metcalf:

Over the years, the idea of a Blade Runner wholly unfucked up by the suits has become a kind of holy mythopoeia that accompanies the film everywhere, as cherished as the idea of a childhood wholly unfucked up by parents...

Well, the hard and cold truth is that the "suits" did fuck up Blade Runner in 1982. But just because its been catalogued and rehashed ad nauseum does not make it any less true.

Metcalf later adds that the critics that panned Blade Runner in 1982 were right all along:

But for all of its supposed transmutations along the way to this, "The Final Cut," it is still vulnerable to the same criticisms originally applied to it. The movie is a transfixing multisensory turn-on from beginning to end. But because its story is underplotted and its characters almost totally opaque, the weight of the film falls to its sumptuous visual palette—its abiding strength—and to its quasi-Nietzschean theology—its abiding weakness.

In other words, Blade Runner is all visuals and no soul, a victim of "underplotting" and poorly-drawn characters. I guess a car chase could have livened things up, or perhaps Ridley Scott could have given Deckard a wife and set up a nice, juicy, love triangle when Rachel enters the picture. Because that would have made the film so much better. As for the Nietzsche influence, I see this as a strength, not a weakness.

Metcalf also says, A movie that is about what it's like to be mortal should not include the line "What is it like to be mortal?" but Blade Runner comes perilously close.

I don't even know how to respond to this last criticism, only to say that Metcalf must not have been watching too closely. The very reason Blade Runner is accused of being "underplotted" and "slow" is because its precisely not a film about action. Even as it asks, "what makes us human," it spends most of its two hours trying to answer the question, and in my opinion succeeds on a more profound level than most films seeking to do the same. I don't know why he labels such examination "turgid," only that I detect a whiff of elitism in the review.

Finally, Metcalf makes the tragic mistake of revealing that his wife "laughed" at Roy Batty's death scene. A word to critics who resort to anecdotal evidence ("hey, lots of people I know laughed at Blade Runner. Therefore, it sucks!") to make their point: No one cares. It's a shallow tactic and ultimately proves nothing. I expected better from Slate.

Sunday, January 6, 2008

Immersed in Blade Runner

I've spent the last hour or so immersed in the four-disc collector's edition of Blade Runner, released this December complete with director Ridley Scott's definitive cut of the film, plus a megaton of extras.

The four-disc set comes with an attractive fold-out package, with nice scans from the film on the packaging. Each of the four discs is painted with black and white images of one of the four major characters from the film, including Deckard, Rachel, Pris, and (of course) Roy Batty.

Needless to say I'm in geek heaven right now. There's so much to watch here, including the following:
  • Disc 1, which contains the final cut, as well as three separate commentaries: One by Scott; one by Executive Producer/Screenwriter Hampton Fancher, Screenwriter David Peoples, Producer Michael Deeley, and Production Executive Katherine Haber; and a third by several art and production folks.
  • Disc 2, which contains Dangerous Days, a documentary of the making of Blade Runner, including outtakes, deleted scenes, and all new interviews.
  • Disc 3, which contains three complete versions of the film, including the U.S. theatrical cut, the international theatrical cut, and the 1992 director's cut. Each has its own introduction by Scott.
  • Disc 4, which contains an "enhancement archive," more than a dozen segments chronicling aspects of production and other features.

As I'm typing I'm watching the final cut with the Fancher/Peoples/Deeley/Haber commentary turned on. This interests me the most as the thing I like best about Blade Runner is its exquisite script (though its rich visuals are of course amazing, especially completely restored and on a remastered DVD). Listening to these four chat about the film some 25 years after its initial release is fascinating. For example, here's their take about why Blade Runner fared so poorly at the box office on its release:

(Deeley): One of the reasons was timing misjudgement. The picture should not have been released in the summer. It was being treated as a big expensive picture for it wanted a summer audience, but it wasn't the standard summer fare. We knew that we were following E.T. by 4 or 5 weeks, but we figured that E.T. would have done its job with the audience by then, and that audiences would have been willing to move on to something much harder, much tougher. Well, that was completely wrong. E.T. just went on and on and on, and we were out of tune with that moment in the market. I think if it had been released as a Christmas picture, it might even have done as well at the Oscars as it perhaps should have done.

(Haber): Apart from anything else, the cinematography, the production design, the visual effects, sound, everything, was overlooked by the academy, which was insane.

(Deeley): It is insane, but it's our fault for releasing it then. You'll remember on Deer Hunter, the decision was made to release it in December, so it came as near to nomination time as possible. And it was still fresh in the voters' minds. This (Blade Runner) had been forgotten. Everyone agrees that it is remarkable in terms of texture. But it was just bad timing. And I have to attribute that bad timing to a desire to recover the cost of the picture as soon as possible, because we had gone over budget, there was more money to recover, and there was not much patience with this. Which was a mistake.

Damn you E.T.!

Sunday, December 23, 2007

An about-face on Blade Runner, 25 years too late


Although I still don't own a copy (a lapse that I hope to rectify this Christmas), director Ridley Scott on December 18 released what he finally considers to be his definitive version of one of my favorite films--the science fiction classic Blade Runner, The Final Cut .

As I mentioned in a previous post, Blade Runner was neither a critical nor a commercial success upon its release in 1982. In fact, the critics more or less savaged it. According to the definitive history of the film, Future Noir: The Making of Blade Runner by Paul M. Sammon, it was as if "many of the nation's critics had somehow been offended by the subtlety and care that had gone into this picture."

Among the critics, one Southern newspaper slammed Blade Runner for being "like science fiction pornography--all sensation and no heart." The LA Times warned audiences to not "...let the words blade runner confuse you into expecting a super high-speed chase film. Blade crawler might be more like it." A New York Times critic called Blade Runner "muddled ... gruesome ... a mess." Roger Ebert himself said that "The movie's weakness... is that it allows the special-effects technology to overwhelm its story." There were positive reviews, too, of course, but they were in the minority.

But bad press couldn't keep Blade Runner down. Only with the passage of years, through positive word of mouth, appreciative SF magazine articles, and repeated viewings on videotape (and later, DVD) by a vocal fanbase, did the genius of this film shine through the dark cloud created by its poor critical reception.

Now, 25 years after its release, the critics are all back on board, rank and file, like sheep. I subscribe to the Sunday Boston Globe, and I could barely stifle my laughter this morning when I glanced at a Globe table that compiles national reviews of new film and DVD releases. Every major reviewer in the table--The Globe, Time, Entertainment Weekly, the LA Times, Variety, and more--listed Blade Runner, The Final Cut, as "recommended." Don't believe me? Go ahead and do a Google search--you'll find that there's tremendous praise for Blade Runner from nearly every quarter.

Talk about an about-face. Now that the overwhelming consensus of fans and SF literati have rightly recast Blade Runner in its proper light--as arguably the most influential and best SF film ever made--the critics have hopped back on board.

Alas, it's 25 years too late. The majority of the critics didn't "get" this movie then, and frankly I doubt they get it now. But it's a lot safer to give it their critical stamp of approval now that the tide has turned.

Shortsighted then, and cowardly now.

Friday, September 21, 2007

I've seen things you people wouldn't believe: My love affair with Blade Runner (director’s cut)


Part 1 of a 10-part series in which I examine my favorite films, and the reasons why I love them so.




    I've … seen things you people wouldn't believe. Attack ships on fire off the shoulder of Orion. I watched c-beams glitter in the dark near the Tanhauser Gate. All those moments will be lost ... in time, like tears ... in rain. Time ... to die.


The death-speech of Roy Batty (as played magnificently by Rutger Hauer) in the rain on the rooftop at the conclusion of Blade Runner is one of my favorite moments in all of cinema, the culmination of a film that transcends its (admittedly beautiful) sci-fi trappings to take a piercing look into the heart of the human condition. It asks, and tries to answer, the eternal questions—what does it mean to be a human? Are humans mere machines, with circuitry of flesh of blood, or are they something more?

The most obvious and immediately striking feature of Blade Runner is its visuals. At the time they were an unparalleled accomplishment in cinema, and later films like The Terminator and The Matrix show an obvious debt to Blade Runner. Director Ridley Scott’s dystopian vision seems almost cliché now, but coming as it did hard on the heels of popular films and TV shows like Star Wars, Star Trek, Lost in Space, etc.--films in which the future was portrayed as fun and/or progressive-- it was truly groundbreaking.

The replicants—artificial creations made to look, sound, and even react emotionally as humans do— provoke all sorts of uncomfortable questions. Their creator, Tyrell of the Tyrell Corporation, calls them “more human than human,” and indeed their passion and will to live (due to their short “life” spans) makes them seem more alive than the real humans in the film. Because they are programmed with memories, they have personality, perspective, independent thought, and emotional reactions, though a sophisticated empathy test can betray them as replicants.

Hauer’s terrific portrayal of Batty, the “perfect” replicant, is my favorite piece of acting in Blade Runner. The parallels between Batty and Milton’s Satan from Paradise Lost are intentional (witness Batty in the elevator leaving Tyrell’s apartment following the murder of his creator—those stars in the background are an obvious reference to his “fall”). And this exchange between Batty and Tyrell:



    Tyrell: What… seems to be the problem?
    Batty: Death.
    Tyrell: Death? Well, I’m afraid that’s a bit out of my jurisdiction…
    Batty: I want more life. Fucker.


…is Satan voicing his displeasure with a God that controls all the strings. Better to rule in hell than serve in heaven, indeed.

I vastly prefer the director’s cut over the theatrical release of this film. For one thing, the theatrical release is not director Ridley Scott’s vision; the studio reportedly forced the addition of a tacked-on voice over by Harrison Ford to make the film more accessible. I think it cheapens the film. The director’s cut also adds some important scenes, such as the infamous origami unicorn, which has subsequently provoked fierce debate as to whether Ford’s character Deckard is himself a replicant. The director's cut also removes the tacked-on feel-good sequence at the end of the studio release.

From a few conversations I’ve had about this move, Blade Runner seems to be one of those love it/hate it films—you either love it for its novel-as-cinema qualities, its measured pace, and its thought provoking questions, or you hate it for the same reasons.

Personally, I love Star Wars and other shoot-em-up space opera faire, but I revere Blade Runner for vastly different reasons.