Several years ago, I pen palled with a woman from Chicago.
She’s very bright and we had many a conversation about a wide range of things.
She moved and we lost touch but I can only imagine her rolling her eyes at the
fact of me seeing this movie three times. She might even be right to do so, but
I unapologetically love this movie.
In-between those viewings, I have read other pieces that
have given me new things to think about – things that warranted a revisit to the
id-driven cyberpunk futurescape of California in the year 2049, where the
richest of society is living in space colonies off-world, leaving everyone else to scrape by a meager living on an overpopulated, environmentally toxic Planet Earth.
It took me awhile to figure how to tackle it. Even
myself and Lunchbox together had trouble. It's a massive, dense story. There’s gender politics and class
politics and, quite frankly, a really confusing hierarchy in a place where the
precipitation is toxic. Would we really discriminate against the only beings
fit to work in those conditions? Think back on the year 2017 and use your
imagination.
It’s 30 years after the first adventure and Replicants
(bioengineered synthetic humans), for a time, had been banned. Tyrell Corp, the
original manufacturer is seen in the movie as a blackened husk of inactivity.
Not repurposed or demolished, it is an unspoken rule to never approach the
building, or its memory, for any reason.
 |
| That means you, Simba. |
Officer KD6 – 3.7 (Ryan Gosling) is a new model of Replicant
completely subservient to his human masters. He works for the LAPD as a Blade
Runner tracking down older model Nexus 6 Replicants that went AWOL after the
blackout. He is forced to confront Tyrell’s legacy head-on when his search for Sapper Morton (Dave Bautista) unearths a secret decades-buried that will challenge the nature of Replicants
everywhere as well as the dynamic with the humans they serve.
Tyrell’s tomb is now in the shadow of a building belonging
to Niander Wallace (Jared Leto), an industrialist whom one could imagine was
the original trajectory for Tony Stark had he not gotten the shrapnel in his
chest. Wallace has solved the food crisis and seemingly averted humanity’s
collapse on Earth. He decides, though, that only Replicants, who consume a
fraction of the resources, can continue living on a planet so depleted.
Without saying too much before the spoiler section, this is
what I like to call a Grown Ass Movie. It’s over two-and-a-half hours long and
while it’s running it commands your attention. It bombards you with its themes
and motifs, of which there are many.
After my first viewing of this film, all I could really do was exhale. And then
proceed to take the long way home from the cinema.
This is both a strength and a setback. Cinephiles like
myself will have no problem letting themselves be immersed in a world this
visually dark and beautiful and engrossing. That doesn’t change the fact that
the film feels bloated - the first act especially so. Most viewers will be
wondering throughout the first hour, what the story even is or, at the least,
when it will pick up. That doesn’t make it a bad movie, but it doesn’t make it
a perfect one, either.
At least a half point must be docked for the failing of the
Bechdel Test: quite a feat for a movie with so many prominent female characters
including Joi (Ana de Armas) K’s holographic girlfriend (in the vein of Spike
Jonze’s Her) and Lt. Joshi (Robin
Wright) his cut-the-crap supervisor on the force. These performances were the
most complex and measured of the film, including Luv (Sylvia Hoeks), the
Replicant serving as personal assistant to Wallace on all matters.
It's been so long since I’ve been able to sit down and just watch a movie. What we have here isn’t
the action-driven blockbuster you perhaps have been sold. I can hardly even
call it a thriller. It’s a true film noir – a detective story through and through.
Officer K does actual foot work. None of the flashy procedural stuff you see on
your mom’s favorite CBS crime drama. He follows his leads to various unassuming
locations, interviewing people and collecting data and finding clues along the
way.
This is also the most practical film I’ve seen for its scale
in ages. All of the tracking shots here are handled with miniature models, as
well as massive soccer-field-sized set pieces to lend to the world’s weight and
density. The legendary Roger Deakins has shot another visual masterpiece and when
the movie hits home markets, I hope people discover a new level of wonder for
each practical effect that they were sure was Computer Generated.
I thought for a long time about the world presented in 2049 and the trajectory of our own
world. Given the rate of human birth and the effects of global climate change,
it’s plausible to imagine a near future where we too will have insects, not
cattle, as our primary source of protein. The resource crisis is real, and it’s
right now.
As for the movie, I see one constant in which our world
mirrors the cyberpunk noir fantasy presented by director Denis Villnueve: the
stark lack of nuance.
With every review I’ve read, the reaction can be summed up
with the phrase, “Blade Runner 2049
is the best movie of the year, but-” For the sake of keeping with the
director’s wishes and not spoiling the whole story, this is the correct
reaction to have. It’s the B-U-T, though, that spoils any review that could be
written.
Film critic Emily Yoshida wrote an excellent piece for the Vulture website where she questioned, simply, why all sci-fi epics are seemingly obsessed with depicting giant scantily-clad women. It’s a good question, and
one I wouldn’t have considered before reading it. Based upon the comments on
the article, you would think she attacked every reader personally for liking
this movie, even though she clearly didn’t (and also liked the movie!)
For years, in all walks of life, we have been playing a
zero-sum game. There is no middle ground, no gray area. You must love my
position unconditionally. If you don’t, it means you love the other one and I
hate you. None of these people could ever tell you why that’s true, and it’s
that same dynamic that leads to Humans hating Replicants – their own creations.
You can heap whatever praise you want on whatever work, but as soon as that
B-U-T comes up, an alarm sounds and every word after – spoken or written – is
utterly ignored.
It goes without saying, but real life doesn’t work like
this. For movies like Blade Runner
and its sequel, that duality makes for compelling character work and drama. For
things like public discourse and government bodies, it’s perhaps the worst
thing that can happen.
Honestly, It’s tough to even criticize this movie without
spoiling it – which I will do. For the moment, know that whatever criticisms I
have should not stop you from seeing this film. It’s worth the time spent.
Nevermind that it’s the sequel of a movie that really didn’t need one. It’s a movie that I’m glad got made, and
one I’ll enjoy for years on.
4.5 Stars out of 5
So, perhaps you’re wondering why I’ve waited until now to
mention Harrison Ford. Well, while his presence alone isn’t a spoiler, his
reason for being present definitely is. As the story goes: after Rachael and
Deckard vanished 30 years ago, they, by some miracle, conceived a child which
Rachael died giving birth to. Finding that child is the main conflict of the
film but you shouldn’t expect too much of Deckard, who doesn’t appear until the
third act.
While you could divvy up this movie into the traditional
Three Act format (the first hour, the second hour and the last 40 minutes) I
prefer to view it in Four Acts. Number One is the presentation of the mystery
and The Question. Number Two sees Officer K begin his investigation and his
search for the Replicant child. Number Three is where K (seemingly) solves the
mystery and tracks down Deckard, who is in hiding. Number Four is the final
conflict, where K sheds his android nature and asserts himself to be his own
person.
The biggest swerve of this movie comes in two parts,
separated by a large amount of time. It begins in an abandoned factory in San
Diego where K finds a small toy horse that an implanted memory would lead him
to believe is his own. He visits Dr. Ana Stelline, a maker of implants, to see
just what separates a real memory from a fake one. She confirms, yes, his
memory of protecting his toy horse is very real – but it’s not his own.
The most elusive fact is often the most obvious, as it were.
In a very Nolan-esque twist, it was a little girl we see running through the
factory, fighting for the only piece of humanity she has left. A toy made out
of real wood which, like most organics (sans the bees K discovers in Las Vegas)
is all but extinct. It’s suggested that Ana herself gave K the memory as she
views it and begins to cry. She recognizes that Officer K is having a massive
existential crisis and it’s likely because of the decision she made. Her
intention was to give a Replicant an authentic memory to look back fondly upon
whenever their present life became too bleak. But as usual in Blade Runner’s world, even acts of
kindness are harshly punished.
It’s after this we see K escape Los Angeles (with Joi in tow)
and track down Rick Deckard in a fallout-ridden Las Vegas. In one of the most
gorgeous set pieces of the film, everything is tinged with a burnt auburn
orange and covered in a heavy layer of dust, showcasing years of abandonment.
[When you’re not
performing your duties, do they put you in a little box? CELLS]
Sitting down at a bar, Deckard asks K his name and he
answers with the name Joi gave him: Joe. It’s one of many “show, don’t tell”
moments, in this case, about the development of a character who, a couple days earlier,
believed himself to be little more than a weapon for the LAPD. When Luv arrives
to capture Deckard and crush Joi’s emanator, thus destroying her AI, we see the fight leave K’s eyes as he’s
left to die on the floor of Deckard’s postmortem casino penthouse.
[What’s it like to
hold the hand of someone you love? INTERLINKED]
He is rescued by a group of rogue replicants and, in a scene
that feels like it was filmed after the fact, is told of a coming rebellion –
Humans v Replicants. He’s also told that Rachael gave birth to a girl and the
swerve from the end of “Act 2” comes back ‘round to blindside both Joe and the
audience. It’s a gut-punch, and well-performed, but I still could have done
without the extra scene. It’s all a bit superfluous. Just seeing K picked up by
the vagrants and then cutting to him on the rainy balcony would have been fine.
[Do you long for having your heart interlinked?
INTERLINKED]
The first time we see K and Joi in the rain, he has bought
her an emanator, which allows her to integrate her image outside of the
projection system installed in his home. He tells her she can go wherever she
wants, and she chooses to go outside. They share a touching and tender moment
that is cut short by a call from Lt. Joshi – a reminder that our hero was about
to make out with an answering machine. The second time we see them in the rain,
Joe is alone and is solicited by a large, pink nude version of his Joi model.
It’s an advertisement and is almost cartoonish in its sexuality. K’s own Joi
model never approached him in such a way; he looks confused before the advertisement
points at him and says, “You look like a good Joe.”
[Do you feel that
there’s a part of you that’s missing? INTERLINKED]
With renewed vigor, K commandeers a spinner and flies to the
metal shores of Southern California to keep Deckard from being shipped
off-world. He kills everyone (including Luv) during the rescue. Once again, we
see how important pacing is. K avoids violence through much of this movie,
despite being very powerful himself. That way, when it’s time for him to get
physical (breaking a landfill scavenger in half over his knee) it explodes off
the screen.
Freysa - a military-issue black ops Replicant - and Luv both
had specific plans for Rick Deckard. Freysa wants him dead to reduce the risk
of Wallace discovering her whereabouts. Luv wants him for the sake of her boss,
believing he will unlock the secret to Replicant reproduction – the minority
becomes the majority. K disregards both, instead choosing Option C: Save Deckard
and get him to his daughter, whom he has never met.
[What’s it like to
hold your child in your arms? INTERLINKED]
K suffers critical injuries in his battle with Luv. Once he’s
flown Deckard to Stelline Laboratories, K does something that would no doubt
have Roy Batty himself weeping at the Universe’s cruel indifference. To call
him ‘Officer’ K would presume he had an occupation. What he had, really, was an
operation. Replicants are bioengineered slaves. K then is a stray dog with no
master and has next to no chance of passing his PTSD Public Safety Exam that
separates the good androids from the ‘retired’ ones.
As hard as it is to top the “Tears in Rain” monologue that
closed the original, 2049 comes damn
close as K eases himself down onto the steps and waits for his end. It’s an
iconic scene: here we have a character we’ve followed and seen get used and
abused for the better part of 3 hours. He fights tooth and nail for even a
single scrap of agency and when he finally gets it, he uses it to save someone
else and then die alone.
[A blood black
nothingness began to spin.]
Backtracking now:
After my second viewing I decided that we got exactly enough
of Jared Leto as Niander Wallace. He gives a measured, methodical and often
deeply unsettling performance. He is a human who ironically lacks the empathy
of K, a Replicant, and makes no qualms of killing off his own creations if they
fail to meet his standards. His motivations seem to be a mix between big
business exceptionalism and an incorrigible God Complex.
But what about Luv?
This character is made complex enough, but not truly fleshed
out. It’s made clear she wants nothing more than to please Wallace (who more
than once calls her the best of his ‘Angels’) and even K notes that she was
special enough to receive a name, as opposed to a serial number. At the same
time, it’s impossible not to notice the fear she has of Wallace. She is jumpy
and cagey around him – constantly on defense. These are classic warning signs
of someone who has been abused repeatedly. She may be special, but she’s still
a Replicant.
In one of the short films produced by Warner Bros. to fill
in the gap between the two movies, Wallace orders one of his Replicants to kill
themselves in front of a group of investors as proof of their subservience. Wallace’s
Nexus 9 models are far more powerful, but also far more controlled. It’s
Gaslighting: The Movie. How else to explain Luv being so fearful of a smaller,
weaker blind man? Their slavery is
encoded into their DNA. To the point
where K can’t even look his human co-workers in the eye.
Does Luv truly want a grand future where Tyrell’s vision of
a being “More Human Than Humans” comes to pass? If so, how does she reconcile
the fact that Niander Wallace would be controlling that future? Are the fates
of Luv and K truly preordained, or is there a reality where they wonder aloud
if they should even be fighting each other?
A few moments more devoted to the above queries would have
elevated a great movie into a perfect one.
[Is there security in
being part of the system? SYSTEM]
When K shows hesitance in retiring something that was born,
(“To be born is to have a soul, I guess.”) Lt. Joshi reassures(?) him, saying
he’s been getting on fine without a soul. This
is the first and most important question of the Id-driven Blade Runner universe. Is K fine without a soul? What even is a soul? When do we have one? Can it
be gained? Can it be lost?
Joe’s choice to save Deckard was in some ways, an odd one.
The whole point of finding the child in the first place is to avoid a massive
conflict. The Humans and Replicants are separated by an imaginary wall – one Class
above another. With the knowledge that Nexus 6 models can perhaps reproduce,
there is no Wall. No more Slave and Master dynamic. Even understanding this
possibility – even with all the abuse he’s suffered – Joe forgoes this and
helps Deckard fake his death, so that the man can hold his daughter and Ana can
get a proper birthday party.
It’s a sentimental, selfish decision that disregards the dreams
of his entire race, but it’s human and it’s his.
Our actions outlive us all and our memories are kept alive through the affect
that we have on people. It’s why Roy Batty saved Rick Deckard in 2019 and it’s
why Joe did the same in 2049.
The need to leave a legacy is the most human thing there is.
And so, the Blade
Runner thesis can be summed up in this single interaction Joe has in Vegas
with Deckard and his dog.
“Is it real?”
“I don’t know. Ask
him.”
[WITHIN CELLS INTERLINKED WITHIN CELLS INTERLINKED WITHIN CELLS INTERLINKED]
