Bladerunner 2049: Sins of the Past
2049 reintroduces us to the world of Bladerunner; complete with its predecessor’s defining neon-drenched cityscapes, melancholic synths, and less admirably its largely male-centric narrative.
Beautifully imagined and methodically paced, Denise Villeneuve’s Bladerunner 2049 is a masterpiece of modern cinema. A work perfectly calibrated to suspend the viewers' disbelief and take them on a complete sensory experience. The ambient score and sound design are paired with stunning sets and acting of a rare caliber that had me utterly immersed.
The world of 2049 is a constant living breathing presence in a film otherwise filled with artifice. Denise has stated he wanted to highlight the weather conditions of a changing climate. Earth may be dying, it’s resources exhausted by humanity, but in its final death throes, it is displaying it’s impressive power. The Pacific ocean threatens to overtake the Seawall protecting LA and storms batter the landscape incessantly. It is a haunting and harsh vision of the future.
I cannot go on without also mentioning one of the most breathtaking fight sequences of recent memory: The confrontation at the edge of the Pacific seawall. The sound of the crashing waves and reverberating synths wash over you, elevating an already masterfully directed scene to new heights.
Not quite far enough from the tree
As gorgeous and captivating as Bladerunner 2049 is, it is not without its faults. Namely, it has difficulty shaking off one of the less admirable genre-defining qualities of its predecessor: It’s male-centric narrative.
I couldn’t shake this feeling that the script was written entirely by men, who did not stop to think, “Maybe this is a little bit too male-focused, or inappropriate?”
I won’t go so far as to say the film is ‘sexist’ as others chose to do in the time since the release, but I do think it ultimately does fail in terms of what I’ve come to expect of gender representation in 2018. I couldn’t shake this feeling that the script was written entirely by men, who did not stop to think, “Maybe this is a little bit inappropriate?”
To begin with, most but not all women in 2049 are relegated to rather passive roles where they have little to no agency or purpose in the narrative other than to motivate or appease male characters.
Deckard’s daughter is the object at the center of all of the plot and therefore the main character’s plans. She is what the men are searching for; the princess locked in her tower. For the past 30 years, she had no say in how her life played out, nor any concept of her importance.
A.I. girlfriend JOI’s sole function in the story is to “die” in order to further motivate the protagonist, K. JOI has no free will, and never could. She is a pre-programmed “product” who’s seemingly real love for K is not a real choice. If K had elected to somehow alter her code, allowing her the free will to choose whether to stay with him or not, that would have made her a more developed character and given weight to her decision.
It is a tired trope to deify women and solely for their life-giving rather than valuing them for their skills, intelligence, or acts.
Rachel, one of the two central characters of the original film, is killed off-screen unceremoniously between the events of Bladerunner and 2049. Her only act deemed of any value by characters in the story is that she gave birth to a child. It all feels so contrived. I know she is a fictional character and of a synthetic make, but even in the context of the narrative, it is a tired trope to deify women solely for their life-giving abilities rather than their skills, intelligence, or acts.
Luv, on the other hand, has a good deal of screen time but lacks in any character development. Her sole motivation is to please her master Niander Wallace out of fear of what he will do to her if she fails. The bleeding out of the newly ‘born’ replicant at the hands of Wallace serves the narrative purpose of introducing the antagonist and his goals to the viewers; however within the context of the film his I’m a villain monologue is meant entirely for Luv alone to witness. It’s a reminder that she is expendable. Her emotional trauma is evident as she begins to cry, first in the face of Wallace’s veiled threat and again during her own act of inflicting pain on another. Her actions are driven by fear of losing Wallace’s favor.
There are two women who do show some agency. The first is Lieutenant Joshi, K’s superior at the LAPD. She shows her own will in defying Wallace and the law for both the greater good and for K (whom she has a soft spot for). The second is the Rebel Leader who also is acting on her own motivations; however, we don’t get a great deal of screen time with either of them.
The majority of the film is filled with men overly fetishizing and obsessing over women and their wombs
Rachel is overtly praised for her beauty and ability of reproduction, and those female models that are barren are discarded and tossed aside by a man who sees them as useless. Did no one think this is a bit misogynistic?
Let’s talk about Deckard and Rachel. One of the glaring faults with the original Bladerunner which makes me uncomfortable to this day is the toxic masculinity displayed by Deckard during the unfolding of his “relationship” with Rachel. Namely the scene in his apartment where he literally forces himself on her despite her clear signals of discomfort and even clearer attempts at escape.
In 2049 the narrative repeatedly romanticizes Rachel and Deckard’s relationship in the original film. It’s referred to as “that beautiful night” and “how perfect it was.” I admit the scene in which they first meet at Tyrell’s office is gorgeously lit and brilliantly performed, and perfect in many ways. The chemistry between the two in that initial meeting is on equal grounds. Rachel toys with Deckard and nearly beats his Voight-Kampff test.
It is after this first encounter that the dynamic shifts completely and the enigmatic and intelligent Rachel turns to Deckard in a state of vulnerability and fear, falling into the helpless damsel trope. Deckard takes advantage of the shift of power and forces her into sex instead of helping her. Rachel denies his advances and tries to escape but is unable to. That does not sound like a romantic or perfect night to me. The idea of slamming a door shut on a woman, throwing her against a wall, and kissing her when she is crying makes me uncomfortable to this day.
If not for Vangelis’ beautiful soaring saxophone this “romantic” apartment scene could easily be a horror sequence out of the Shining. Perhaps in the 80’s this passed as romance, but I feel that the scene’s problem’s have gone largely ignored by an overly forgiving fan-base.
Scifi-Noir’s Failings
That problem of creating a male-centric fantasy largely remains into the sequel. Maybe this male perspective is somehow baked into the very DNA of what makes a Bladerunner film. After all, it takes after the Film Noir genre which is also defined by male dominant narrative tropes and stereotypes.
In 2049 we see many sexualized holograms of women and female replicants, but no men. Are there no ads with men? Have all non-hetero male orientations disappeared in this future? Are there no A.I. boyfriends like JOI?
The recently released Netflix Series Altered Carbon borrows a great deal from the Bladerunner aesthetic queues and themes. But it takes what BR established and adds to it further by creating a sci-fi noir setting rich in cultural and sexual diversity. Men are sexualized in equal degrees to women. The male characters are often coerced by women that have power. The world feels dynamic and lived-in by an amalgam of varied peoples and not like a white male sci-fi fantasy.
The central women characters have deep character development, display their own desires, and share equal screen time to their male counterparts.
Perhaps as I suggested earlier Bladerunner is defined by this male perspective. If K or Deckard had been women, for instance, would it possibly have been too similar to Ghost in the Shell’s Motoko Kusanagi? Another Sci-Fi protagonist that hunts artificial humans in the future?
The Bladerunner fan-base is assumed to be largely dominated by men, thus this direction caters to that audience, but otherwise alienates others.
I would say that the series requires a reevaluation past this juncture. Denise and Scott have contributed a great deal in artistry and storytelling alone, but there is a need to diversify roles and gender norms.
If there is a third installment I would hope we see the Replicant Rebellion, the Deckard & daughter (Dr.Ana) reunion, and the closing of the Wallace story arc. Most importantly I would like to see the daughter as the main character we follow with her own motivations, decisions, and internal struggles.
How would she react to the Rebellion planning to use her as an icon for war, like Katniss Everdeen in Hunger Games? How would she feel about her father having abandoned her for so many years? And how would she choose to live her life now that she is free of her cage?
Could the ads and holograms change to show men when we follow her around the city, implying that the displays change depending on the gender or orientation of the observer?
Most importantly, would she finally be able to verify whether Deckard’s memories are authentic or those of a replicant?
I would find this change in perspective extremely refreshing for the series. Instead of treading old water, ironic for a series set in the Future, Bladerunner as a brand should be crossing over the proverbial sea-wall onto new shores.
