Blade Runner 2049 review

4 November 2017

Title:	Blade Runner 2049
Year:	2017
Genre:	SciFi
Runtime:	164 min
IMDb:	link
RT:	link

Warning: This review may contain spoilers for both Blade Runner (1982) and Blade Runner 2049 (2017).

Blade Runner (1982) consistently appears in listings of best SciFi movies ever made. Critics who fawned over its sequel referred to it as "one of the best SciFi movies of the year". This is probably accurate. There literally wasn't much competition.

An equally accurate but perhaps kinder description would be that Blade Runner 2049 makes an honest attempt to be a worthy follow-up to Blade Runner (1982). It not only attempts this with its stunning visuals that replicate and expand on the originals and with its electronic score that tries for the same with Vangelis's inimitable soundscape design, it does so by exploring ideas that are in the spirit of the original but expand on it and bring in new questions and new perspectives.

The attempt is honest, well meant, and to be lauded, as the vast majority of Hollywood films deserve no such praise.

What it is not, is particularly successful.

This is not to say that Blade Runner 2049 does not have its shining moments. Dave Bautista's face before he enters his home in the first scene chillingly conveys that he knows exactly what awaits him there, making this moment a powerful allegory for any man who was ever hunted over his race or genetic heritage. (And is a more convincing piece of acting than anything Mr. Gosling manages throughout 2.75 hours of screen time.)

Ana de Armas' cry of "I love you!" speaks volumes about the illusive question of how real emotions are, and the relationship between 'K' and Joi makes a fine point about our need to believe even in what we know is fake.

But where a masterpiece differs from a forgettable film is that in a masterpiece these shining moments construct a world greater than the sum of its parts, whereas here the moments break on any attempt to expand them:

• Sapper Morton must surely have known for decades that someone like 'K' would eventually find him. Did this super-intelligent being make no plans other than to headbutt his assailant?
• If a replicant pays for rent, food, healthcare and upgrades to his home entertainment system from a police salary (all of which we are told), his operating costs are not lower than those of a human. Where is the advantage in this so-called 'disposable workforce'?
• If memories of Blade Runners are habitually manipulated in order to give them an emotional bedrock, why is 'K' tested for emotional response when returning from duty, rather than having him placed in a convenient broom closet, only to have his memories reset when he is next needed?
• If, as stated by Barkhad Abdi, owning a small wood figurine makes 'K' rich, why is nobody taking advantage of the fully grown tree found on Morton's farm? Why does Mariette not steal the figurine and make a run for it, despite having been detected by a hologram (who is immaterial and cannot stop her)?
• If Wallace designed replicants so they will obey and be truthful, how come all replicants in this movie lie, including Luv, who lies directly to Wallace?
• And why does Wallace need Deckard? And why off world, when he clearly owns earth?
• And how does a woman with a compromised immune system live outside her bubble for the first full eight years of her life?
• And who etched '6.10.21' onto the toy horse? And why?
• And is there any explanation why of all the replicants in the world, the one to catch Sapper Morton is the one with this memory?

Worse -- again underlining the difference between masterpiece and disposable entertainment -- the story here does not carry the weight of the world it is constructed in. Blade Runner (1982) would have been forgettable if Roy Batty had not saved Deckard in its final scene. It is this climax that turns the replicants from simple villains to a succinct statement about the human condition and human rage against god and death. Blade Runner 2049 has no such redemptive moment. The villainous Luv remains a simple Terminator, comparable with Sofia Boutella's character in Kingsman. In fact, none of the characters seem to have any arc at all.

This is not to say that their actions are consistent and understandable. The film's initial scene, its lead-in, demonstrates this remarkably well:

• First, 'K' lays his gun at his side, goading Sapper Morton to a violent confrontation.
• Then, he asks Sapper to remain on the floor, conveying that he is averse to violence.
• Then, once all is done, he tastes the soup, showing complete obliviousness to the violence that ensued.
• And lastly, when reporting back to his commanding officer, the officer's response is "You're hurt. I'm not paying for that." (seven words that are an amazing piece of scriptwriting, telling so much by saying so little). This response conveys -- among so many other things -- that this mode of action is not normal to 'K'.

And this is far from being an isolated example. It is, for example, never explained why Luv, with all her speeches about 'miracles', behaves the way she does, and whether she works for Wallace or against him. It is similarly never explained -- despite lampshading -- why 'K' chooses to save Deckard. It is, in fact, not clear how this helps any of the film's characters. But do not make the mistake that has in recent years become a Hollywood screenwriter's maxim: vagueness does not equal depth; it's just lazy storytelling.

In the end, Blade Runner 2049 does a good job of copying its predecessor's moody, alienating atmosphere, its extravagant set design and dramatic electronic score, but fails by not having a story to tell that merits their use. Without such a story, the dramatic music which at first ripens the suspense eventually turns it overripe and -- after almost three hours -- rancid.

Full marks for the attempt, but just for the attempt.

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