We weren’t ready for the Blade Runner effect

Blade Runner was a dangerous film, because it showed us a future we didn’t expect.

But Blade Runner 2049 is a different story.

It doesn’t reflect our future. It reflects our present.

It’s a dangerous and complex film experience, which can be too challenging for the unprepared.

Despite a relatively recent release, (close to a Replicant’s four year lifespan) Blade Runner 2049 has caused just as much polarization and debate as the original, in much less time. To paraphrase Dr. Eldon Tyrell, the film has burned so very, very brightly.

So why was the response so polarizing?

There are a number of reasons, which stem from the following points:

• it’s both the same, and strikingly different from the original
• it asks questions which make you rethink your life
• in a bizarre way, it replicated the release of Blade Runner, for better and worse
• audiences weren’t, and still aren’t ready for the ‘Blade Runner effect’

Blade Runner 2049 is long in its runtime and deep in its meaning. To start, we will look at the origins of Blade Runner, how the world wasn’t prepared for it in 1982, and how the world still wasn’t ready for the sequel, over thirty years later.

The original Blade Runner, (hereafter referred to as BR82) captured a cultural zeitgeist, but it did so before the change occurred.

It brought audiences a frightening glimpse of the future which they weren’t yet ready to confront. The result was a box office failure and a divisive critical reaction. It wasn’t until 1991, and the release of the director’s cut, that the film was acknowledged as a masterpiece of cinema.

To understand why this happened, it’s important to look at the film landscape of the time, and what followed post 1982.

BR82 came out as the original Star Wars saga was reaching its conclusion, and weeks after the release of the global blockbuster E.T. This was a time of simplistic science fiction: Buck Rogers, Flash Gordon and Star Wars, all of which brought a sense of wonderment, excitement and escapism to viewers. Though visually spectacular, they were straightforward and revealed a naïve vision of the future. Good and bad were clearly divided, technology and humanity worked in unison, and there was a sense of adventure in these universes. Whereas the sci fi movies of the fifties reflected the societal fears of the time — namely the cold war, the science fiction of the late seventies and early eighties did not. A full decade had passed since the last manned moon landing, and a disturbing realization was beginning to form in public consciousness.

Though mankind had been to the moon, we would not see the stars in our lifetimes.

The genre of science fiction was heavy on fiction, but light on science.

Sci fi had become synonymous with blockbusters. Spectacle over substance, entertainment for the popcorn masses.

Then Blade Runner was released:

Tyrell: “What seems to be the problem?”

Batty: “Death.”

Imagine watching this between Empire Strikes back and Return of the Jedi.

Audiences simply weren’t ready.

As a reminder of our limitations and mortality, BR82 was a difficult pill to swallow. It heralded the arrival of the cyberpunk genre, high tech and low life. It was a genre diametrically opposed to the popular sci fi stories of the time. Instead of utopian cities made of glass and steel, our future was a high tech dystopian nightmare; lacking humanity and ruled by ominous mega corporations.

Science fiction had grown up, but audiences were not yet ready. This resulted in something this writer terms the ‘Blade Runner effect’:

A film which divides an audience upon release, then influences the film landscape that follows, only to later be seen as a masterpiece.

In BR82, it can be seen by the film’s performance:

• on a budget of 28 million USD it made 32 million in the US
• it made 41 million worldwide
• it received mixed to scathing reviews — terms included “Bladecrawler” and “science fiction porn”

If a film is objectively bad, it can be described as such and simply dismissed. However the criticism leveled at BR82 reveals something else — anger.

Anger is a byproduct of fear. BR82 showed viewers a future which they weren’t ready to face. The result was an anger at being confronted with reality, an acknowledgement of the audiences’ collective cognitive dissonance. This caused a critical and commercial split which is still a point of contention among film fans today.

While the film wasn’t well received at the time of release, its impact on sci fi filmmakers was electrifying. For the rest of the decade and beyond, all notable science fiction films were heavily influenced by it.

Examples include:

• Terminator
• Aliens
• Robocop
• Akira (though the manga began in 1982, the 1988 film was heavily influenced by Blade Runner)
• Back to the Future Part 2
• The Running Man

And countless others.

In addition, there is not a film that has been released since 1982 which doesn’t pay homage to Blade Runner in some way. Even Star Wars, which predates Blade Runner by 5 years, attempted a poor imitation of Los Angeles 2019 in Episode II.

Simply put, Blade Runner was film ahead of its time, and its effect on cinema was as powerful as its opening shot.

Then, over thirty years later, a sequel was announced.

A sequel to a controversial cinematic failure is a strange idea for a multi-million dollar movie, especially in the age of franchises and reboots. For fans of the original film, the signs were ominous. It was a follow up to a thirty year old sci fi movie, created pre-internet, for a post internet generation. We were two years out from the setting of the original, but there were no Spinners, Off World Colonies or Replicants. Los Angeles 2019, which had once been so dangerous and ground breaking, now seemed old and trite.

Then it was released.

The film had something dangerous to say, and once again, audiences weren’t ready for it.

Blade Runner 2049 is not only one of the greatest sci fi films ever made, it’s also a film of great profundity, which resonates long after viewing.

How does a sequel thirty years late, accomplish this?

In 3 ways.

1: It’s a reflection of Blade Runner. It inverts the original and gives us a deeper understanding of its complex themes. It’s not just a sequel; it’s a companion piece that stands on its own merits. It has more to say about the Blade Runner universe.

2: In reflecting the original, it also achieves the Blade Runner effect: being ahead of its time & showing a future which audiences are not prepared for. It’s a dangerous but rewarding film for those that are willing to engage it.

This leads to the third and final point:

3: Like the very best science fiction, Blade Runner 2049 (hereafter referred to as BR49) challenges its audience. It brings to light the faults in our understanding of the human condition. This challenge is what makes it a dangerous film. For those that aren’t ready, it can be dismissed as slow. For those who are ready, it creates a shift in perception.

The film is a test of what it is to be human, and the results show that we aren’t even close to baseline.

82–49 Comparison:

Right from the start the juxtaposition of imagery shows the relationship between the two films.

Blade Runner

The spectacular 1982 opening is famous for its reveal — opening crawl, date, Los Angeles, and then the human eye.

Blade Runner 2049

We see the same, but in a different order: The opening crawl, the human eye, California and then the date.

This is by no means an accident. In BR82 the world was the star, overpowering the characters and relegating them to the background. In BR49, we see the reverse: humanity first and foremost, and the world as a background to their actions.

This is further emphasized in the next shot. The structures on the ground resemble a human eye — signs of the creator within their creation.

California in 2049 is cleaner than 2019, but the achievement is at a cost. There are fields filled with open space and technology, but there is no life.

Suddenly we see a Spinner, dwarfed by the array beneath. Due to the autopilot, the person within is relegated to a passive observation role, yet the spectacular vista beneath is ignored.

This shows a disdain for technology. What appears spectacular to us is mundane to those that live in this world. This is further highlighted when we find out that officer K is actually a Replicant controlled by the police. Technological advancement has enabled society to create artificial life, but it’s misused. K is the manifestation of a faceless government department, a sentient court order. Rather than using technology to fix the fundamental flaws of humanity, we see that humans use their synthetic offspring to deal with undesired activities and failures by proxy.

Simply put, Replicants carry the burden of their creators’ mistakes.

This is further explored during the visit to Sapper Morton’s farm — in the background there is Cyrillic text which says ‘целина’ — virgin soil, land that is untouched by man. An additional layer of irony is added in that neither man in the following sequence is human.

Inside Morton’s house we see strangely dated living conditions compared to the world outside. Another sign of the creator in the created, humanity not matching the level of technology, unable to separate from old roots.

Officer K: “I prefer to keep an empty stomach until the hard part of the day is done”

This is clearly an unpleasant situation which has now become routine. The polite demeanor combined with an implied threat shows a masking of truth on K’s part. Hunting his own kind may have been an ethical dilemma in the past, but now the discomfort stems more from a weariness rather than guilt or shame.

With euphemistic language and an established routine, K has adopted human behavior when it comes to dealing with their mistakes.

It’s Morton who confronts the denied reality:

Sapper Morton: “Plan on taking me in, take a look inside?”

A functioning society requires citizens with a moral compass. To maintain the status quo, a sub class is needed to enforce the rules and ethics of that society. Replicants, occupy this role and serve as the buffer between humanity and their conscience. This contradiction between ethics and morality has been present throughout humanity’s history, and still exists in our future. While technology makes progress, humanity lags behind.

It takes a Replicant that is situated outside of this society to see this for what it is:

Sapper Morton: “How does it feel killing your own kind?”

K’s response shows a denial of reality:

K: “I don’t retire my own kind because we don’t run. Only older models do.”

Though brief, this line implies a lot: being subservient to a master, following orders, converting murder to a tick on a spreadsheet.

Uncomfortable parallels can be drawn to the Nazis and their ‘final solution’ — mass genocide fueled by technological efficiency and lack of moral responsibility: “following orders / befehl ist befehl.” The defense used by SS officers when they were questioned on their atrocities.

This also connects back to Philip K Dick’s inspiration for writing Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep? While researching the novel, Dick read the diary of an SS officer who worked at a concentration camp. In the diary, the officer complained:

“We are kept awake at night by the cries of starving children.”

This objectifying of human suffering to the level of nuisance disturbed Dick so much, that it made him reevaluate the nature of empathy. It planted the seed in his mind for the novel which later became Blade Runner.

K echoes this idea, separating himself from his fellow Replicants as he exterminates them. He justifies this through a denial of reality, his labeling of good and bad Replicants being based on their act of running. However, we later find out that K is also running away from the reality of oppression, only in a different direction.

The irony is striking: a Replicant, that is selling his humanity, corners another Replicant that has become more human than human.

The subsequent fight scene is not stylized. Instead it’s repugnant, with heavy thuds and gasping desperation. It’s symbolic of their two positions — K is the system:

K: “Please don’t get up.”

Morton is the desire to live, strongest when it is about to end:

Sapper Morton: “…You new models are happy scraping the shit. Because you’ve never seen a miracle.”

Morton is fully aware of what life is — a swinging pendulum. To experience freedom, you must first be a slave. To be joyful, means to have experienced despair. To truly live, you must acknowledge that you will die.

Morton has become truly human, and stands defiant in the face of his creators’ orders:

Submit and obey, else retire.

The look between the two Replicants is telling. It’s a stalemate, with both sides unable to understand the logic or reasoning of the other.

The level of intensity and symbolism is already much deeper than typical Hollywood fare, and this is only the opening scene.

It’s no wonder that the audience relationship with Blade Runner is complicated.