Blade Runner 2049

(Warning: contains spoilers about Blade Runner, and Blade Runner 2049)

Writing a film review is a strange and interesting process.  Some films lend themselves very easily to a review.  By the time I’ve travelled home from the cinema, the review is pretty much in my head, fully formed, just waiting to get written down.  I find this has been particularly true of bad films, where it’s like my brain needs the earliest opportunity to expel the poison from its system. 

I’ve previously likened films to food, where some are candyfloss – delicious, insubstantial and of no nutritional value whatsoever.  But still a good experience.  Others are steak – satisfying  and something to get your teeth properly into, though not necessarily something you want all of the time.  Blade Runner 2049 has been a properly meaty film.  It’s taken a while to write the review for a couple of reasons – 1. After steak you need a while to sit and digest.  2.  I’m still not entirely sure what I’ve seen.

Is this just what all film posters look like now?

Blade Runner 2049 is a sequel to the 1982 film Blade Runner.  Set 30 years after the original, there has been some kind of blackout which has wiped the details of all replicants and their locations.  K (Ryan Gosling) is a Blade Runner - the never really explained term used to describe those who hunt down replicants and kill them.  He himself is a newer model replicant, but is tasked with finding older replicant models and “retiring” them.  He discovers the remains of a replicant.  Closer inspection suggests that this replicant was once pregnant – it was previously believed that replicants could not reproduce (as an ongoing argument about how they as “artificial humans” should be considered as less than “real humans”).  K is given the task of investigating, and destroying any evidence about the child (plus the actual child if necessary).  Mission ensues.
Written by Hampton Fancher (who co-wrote the screenplay of the original Blade Runner) and Michael Green (who is racking up an impressive list of sci-fi credits including American Gods, Logan, Alien: Covenant), and directed by Denis Villeneuve (Arrival), the result is faithful to the noir, gloom, and neon artifice of the 1982 original, while also not alienating those who come to the sequel first.   

This film is fascinating, because it can be viewed and interpreted in a myriad of different ways.  There are compelling arguments to say that it’s a pro-feminist film, and equally compelling arguments to say that it’s very anti-feminist.  Discussions about what’s real and what’s artificial are rife.  Comments about who knows what, and when, and how.  Interpretations of what it is to be alive, and the permutations of what that means.  It is vast and intimate, unknowable and personal, specific and vague.  In the hours following my first viewing of the film, I was having very complicated discussions with friends about different interpretations of what we’d all seen, knowing that in 10 years time the same topic could come up, and I’d think 100 different things.  There is much to savour, and much to digest.

First of all, as previously mentioned, you don’t need to have a great understanding of the original to appreciate the sequel.  I saw this film with my husband, who has watched Blade Runner a great many times and insists on quoting bits of it, repeatedly, and out of context.  Conversely, I have seen it once, and rarely understand why he shouts “TOO BAD SHE WON’T LIVE” when I least expect it.  We both think Blade Runner 2049 is one of the best films of the year.  For those who have seen the original, the sequel is faithful to it but subverts it subtly and frequently throughout.  The origami unicorns are replaced by wooden horses.  The Voight-Kampff tests now actively discourage authentic human responses.

Secondly, for me the oddest subversion is that the things that had the most emotional resonance…weren’t real…   So, K has a girlfriend, Joi (Ana de Armas), who is an upgraded hologram who travels with him.  We see K upload her, and upgrade her.  We see her glitch, and get interrupted by other technology.  She is partially see-through, and frequently reminds K that she is not real.  But when her emitter is destroyed it is a character death, it is shocking, and it is the most upsetting moment of the film.  The relationship between K and Joi is real to them, and real to us.  But it’s also completely and utterly not real.

Deckard (Harrison Ford) comes face to face with Rachael (Sean Young), the replicant he fell in love with.  He is visibly moved to see her, more so because she’d died some years before.  He speaks of the romance of their first encounter – the film goes to great pains to point out that those memories aren’t real either.

Ana Stelline creates memories and dreams for people.  They are things of intricate joy and beauty, and they evoke profound emotional responses from all who see them.  They’re not real.

The characters that we know most about and respond most to – K, Joi, Deckard, Luv (Sylvia Hoeks) – are artificial.  The characters we believe to be “real humans”, such as Wallace (Jared Leto) are the ones who seem most inhuman.  That suggests that “humanity” can be artificially created, and I’m not sure I believe that, and yet…I find myself moved by a film, which in its very essence isn’t real.  WHAT DOES ANYTHING MEAN!?!

Thirdly, it would be remiss of me to ignore the feminism argument.  How does Blade Runner 2049 depict and treat women?  Good question.  The arguments that say it is anti-feminist are compelling – this is a film directed by a man, screenwritten by men, predominantly produced by men.  The female characters are mainly sex objects created for men and overtly so.  A woman is “born” and killed entirely because she’s not pregnant, and therefore worthless.  Joi is subject to the whims of K – she acts the way he wants her to act, dresses the way he wants her to dress.  He has bought her to be like that.  She has sex with him via another woman – Mariette (Mackenzie Davis), in a scene oddly reminiscent of Ghost – that woman is also bought and paid for.  There is a crumbling society where there is evidence of giant female sculptures, all naked, all fetishized, all submissive.  Replicants like Luv carry out the whims of people like Wallace because they literally cannot do anything else.  The film makes the point that Lt Joshi is also a sexual creature – propositioning K, and being turned down.  There is no suggestion that there is a male version of Joi for her.  So there’s a lot there that’s troubling.  However…

Blade Runner 2049 is a dystopian world, and it is evident that it is wrong and sick.  It is a place where no one is happy, content or satisfied.  It is not a world to aspire to.  Of the many people I know who have seen this film, not one is desperate to live there.  Therefore we can reason that, likewise, its treatment of women is not to be emulated.  If the argument is that the film is pro-men anti-women, who is the male character who is “winning”, and we should aspire to be?  Deckard – in seclusion, grieving, hunted?  K – who has no idea what’s real anymore, and his only raison d’ệtre is to kill his own kind?  Wallace – blind, deluded, isolated?  No thank you very much.

I don't really want to live here, thank you.

There are significantly more female characters than males.  Those female characters are notably more detailed, interesting and complex than the males.  Consider Mariette – on one hand, she is a prostitute who is paid to betray K.  She is also a significant figure in the resistance, not only betrays K but saves him, and is the only one not put off by his Blade Runner reputation. 

Consider Lt Joshi – she is a woman in a position of power, who isn’t afraid to ask for what she wants.  In a world which is male dominated, that really stands out.

The main argument for women as commodities for reproduction alone is voiced by Wallace, who is the villain of the film.  We aren’t supposed to agree with what he says.

Admittedly, a few small tweaks here and there would have improved some of the criticism.  It’s a very heteronormative film (although the dystopia argument could come into play here again, I suppose), and a few more women behind the camera wouldn’t go amiss.  There is an argument to say it’s anti-women, but there’s also one to say it’s anti-men. 

But that it manages to cram so much into 2 hours 44 minutes (admittedly long, but not bloated.  It’s a surprisingly lean film), while remaining faithful to the original, and introducing an old world to a new generation.  In a lot of ways, it’s nothing short of a miracle.

But then again,  

…you’ve never seen a miracle.     

Additional thoughts, questions, concerns:

1.  What was the point of Wallace and where did he go in the end?

2.  Who in the film is very definitely a human?

3.  If the film were to go on another 5 minutes, or 5 days, what would happen next?