Will Blade Runner 2049 ruin the original?
Few sequels could do as much harm
The new trailer for Blade Runner 2049 does something rare for film advertising in the final leg — it scales back the amount of information presented to would-be audience members.
Usually, the first film clips in a campaign reveal little bits of tone and style — hence the name teasers — that expand in scope with each successive trailer revealing more story. It’s possible that the marketing team chose to create a more enigmatic promo this time out because the previous one gave away enough info that it should have come with a spoiler warning.
Some of this spoiler hand-wringing comes with the specific Blade Runner territory. It’s hard to make a sequel to the iconic science fiction film that features the original hero (or anti-hero, really, played by Harrison Ford) without stirring up the age-old debate: human or replicant?
For those who don’t know, the ‘original’ Blade Runner has a famously ambiguous ending. I put original in quotations because there are many different cuts of the film floating around, and they all feature changes that enhance the central question. Either way, the film follows Rick Deckard, a blade runner played by Ford. Blade runners are a type of bounty hunter who specialize in finding escaped androids (also known as replicants) that are hiding out within the human population. Despite the high concept premise, the film is a lot less action packed than you might expect. It’s more of a meditation on what makes someone human and the source of empathy.
At the end, we’re led to believe that Deckard might be a replicant too. In some cuts, that is highly implied to be the case. Ridley Scott, director of the first Blade Runner and overseer of its many incarnations, has declared for years that Deckard is a replicant. He assures us that 2049 will answer the question for good.
His certainty is a little strange, given that Denis Villeneuve, the actual director of Blade Runner 2049, claims his film will be more coy. But then again, Scott’s certainty was always strange. Blade Runner scribe Hampton Fancher supports the idea of ambiguity while personally believing Deckard is human. Rather than dictate an answer like Scott, he emphasizes that not answering the question in any definitive manner is the intended point of the experience.
The ambiguity is part of why millions of people, myself included, love the film. Blade Runner is made a better movie when you don’t know if the central character is a human or the very beings he’s hunting. The closing themes of the movie depend on that tension. Deckard isn’t initially presented as an unreliable narrator. It makes the slow burning reveal of his (potentially) fractured self existentially terrifying. The movie exploits the inherent empathic bond between audience and protagonist so that we are included in Deckard’s identity crisis. Either he’s one messed up dude or one messed up android.
The stunning visuals, bone-shaking synth score, and emotional performances in Blade Runner are enough to turn the average person into a sudden cinephile. But that intellectual layer separates it from other escapist science fiction entertainment. Harrison Ford did the space opera thing with Star Wars; he took part in a different exercise with Blade Runner.
When I was twelve or thirteen, I finally watched Blade Runner. I dove in with the Final Cut — one which leans heavier into the “Deckard is a Replicant” idea. Nonetheless, I still came away with the pleasurable tingle of cognitive dissonance. I liked that I couldn’t decide which ending was more satisfying.
I won’t pretend that Blade Runner is some kind of Mona Lisa of film. It’s pulpy sci-fi and pretentious clap trap filtered through with strains of truly visionary artistry. The experience of those conflicting elements is an apt demonstration of the central ideas; that’s why it has endured so long.
I’ll be sad if Blade Runner 2049 gives us any concrete answers on Deckard’s existence. I don’t want to watch the first one through a lens that doesn’t allow for conflicting opinion.
Ambiguous movies rarely get sequels. Does any want an Inception 2? The Thing 2? The Graduate 2? I could go on and on with movies that made stronger by their open endings. Sure, ambiguity can be a gimmick. But when it’s done right — when the ambiguity is woven into the fabric of the film — then why the hell would you jeopardize that?
I’m a huge fan of the team involved with Blade Runner 2049. I’d hope that they understand what made the first one tick. It’ll be a coup if Blade Runner 2049 is good on it’s own terms and keeps Blade Runner fresh. If things don’t work out though, don’t count be surprised. Some stories don’t need a follow-up.
