In the far-off landscape of 2019, the Earth has advanced to a technological zenith. Now truly masters of their domain, humanity has reshaped the world in its own self-centered image. Overburdened and sullied with waste, the landscape flickers in neon hues and fluorescent glare. As gas-powered fireballs spit on the horizon and acid rain drips steadily in the streets, our mutual rush to conquer has rendered former essentials like daylight and animal life virtually extinct. Mere victims in the name of progress. That same callous attitude is applied to the artificial workers we employ for physically demanding off-planet work. Dubbed replicants, these synthetic beings are sent to fight our wars and pave the way for new interstellar colonies, but are also hamstrung with an extremely short lifespan and a strict prohibition from visiting Earth. Crucial failsafes, lest they harbor any undesirable thoughts about throwing the yoke.
Fresh off the success of 1979’s Alien, director Ridley Scott dips a toe in similar waters for this gloomy, epic, long-simmering Philip K. Dick adaptation. Set in an equally dark, lived-in future society, Blade Runner provides a strong tonal match while exploring a very different set of themes and ideas. In this case, we’re concerned with the very fabric of conscious thought. Now that the human race has effectively opened Pandora’s box and created a manner of life (the replicants), where do we draw the line between their brand of being and our own? Why are their lives considered so much more disposable? It’s a rich question, later mirrored in films such as Ghost in the Shell and Ex Machina, and one for which there’s no easy answer. Especially when the subjects react so emotionally, resorting to murder, deception and violence when their pleas for emancipation fall on deaf ears. These rebellious replicants don’t make for objectively good people, but then, neither does a majority of the human race.
Blade Runner is the best kind of science fiction. Morally thoughtful and conceptually ambitious, it puts the audience in a mixed state of awe and discomfort, then leaves us to grapple with the consequences. We’re dazzled by the atmosphere of this foreign-yet-familiar scene, but repulsed by the effect it’s had on our collective nature. Strip away the enveloping scenery and immense soundscapes (an outstanding contribution by the composer Vangelis) and we’re left with a series of timeless human debates... plus one incredible closing monologue. This gets better with every viewing.
Review by drqshadowBlockedParent2022-11-17T20:02:02Z
In the far-off landscape of 2019, the Earth has advanced to a technological zenith. Now truly masters of their domain, humanity has reshaped the world in its own self-centered image. Overburdened and sullied with waste, the landscape flickers in neon hues and fluorescent glare. As gas-powered fireballs spit on the horizon and acid rain drips steadily in the streets, our mutual rush to conquer has rendered former essentials like daylight and animal life virtually extinct. Mere victims in the name of progress. That same callous attitude is applied to the artificial workers we employ for physically demanding off-planet work. Dubbed replicants, these synthetic beings are sent to fight our wars and pave the way for new interstellar colonies, but are also hamstrung with an extremely short lifespan and a strict prohibition from visiting Earth. Crucial failsafes, lest they harbor any undesirable thoughts about throwing the yoke.
Fresh off the success of 1979’s Alien, director Ridley Scott dips a toe in similar waters for this gloomy, epic, long-simmering Philip K. Dick adaptation. Set in an equally dark, lived-in future society, Blade Runner provides a strong tonal match while exploring a very different set of themes and ideas. In this case, we’re concerned with the very fabric of conscious thought. Now that the human race has effectively opened Pandora’s box and created a manner of life (the replicants), where do we draw the line between their brand of being and our own? Why are their lives considered so much more disposable? It’s a rich question, later mirrored in films such as Ghost in the Shell and Ex Machina, and one for which there’s no easy answer. Especially when the subjects react so emotionally, resorting to murder, deception and violence when their pleas for emancipation fall on deaf ears. These rebellious replicants don’t make for objectively good people, but then, neither does a majority of the human race.
Blade Runner is the best kind of science fiction. Morally thoughtful and conceptually ambitious, it puts the audience in a mixed state of awe and discomfort, then leaves us to grapple with the consequences. We’re dazzled by the atmosphere of this foreign-yet-familiar scene, but repulsed by the effect it’s had on our collective nature. Strip away the enveloping scenery and immense soundscapes (an outstanding contribution by the composer Vangelis) and we’re left with a series of timeless human debates... plus one incredible closing monologue. This gets better with every viewing.