Just saw Blade Runner 2049

Theoretically Deckard is that strong in the first one, he just doesn't know it.  Rachael is a replicant-- we know that for a fact, yet we never see her use superhuman strength.  Deckard gets beaten senseless by replicants a couple of times in the original but he can't use strength he doesn't know he has.  Human beings behave like this, too.  

The bigger question is why doesn't Deckard have any kind of a past that he references?  Why did he quit being a Blade Runner and why was he so easily convinced to come back?  Why is Bryant so shifty around Deckard in his initial meeting when they're discussing the replicants?  Watch his facial expressions while Deckard is talking to him after they watch the footage of Leon.  I agree Scott adding the unicorn dream and flat out saying Deckard is a replicant in interviews after the fact was unnecessary, but the suggestion of Deckard being a replicant was always there.  Otherwise there'd be no reason for Rachael to ask if he'd ever taken the test himself.  Wallace dances around the idea in 2049, when he questions Deckard about his relationship with Rachael.  He tells him it was a setup and Deckard should ask himself if it was chance that brought them together or if he was just programmed.  The scene was a little too on the nose for my taste, but I'm glad they didn't answer the question either way. 

Anyway Scott didn't make these changes to drum up interest in an old underperforming film; he finally made the movie he wanted to make before the studio got in his way.  The movie was changed drastically while it was still in production (for example the number of replicants that are allegedly on the loose), never mind the 50 different cuts of the film that are floating around out there now.  I love Blade Runner because it's a beautiful disaster.  It was ambitious and despite all its flaws (and there are plenty), it's a masterpiece in my book.           


All movies depicting the future are wrong, that's the chance you take.  There are scores of films that take place a few years after they were released and they're always radically different from reality.  You have to do something to make the world seem different from ours when you're writing sci fi, I'm not going to hold that against Dick or Scott or anyone else. 

The universe is indeed strange because there are so many different cuts of the film that the audience has to decide which they prefer as canon, and what the believe the true nature of the protagonist to be.  I've found that it all comes down to which version you saw first.  I saw the Director's Cut first (which heavily implies Deckard is a replicant) and that's the version I prefer.  I know people who saw the original theatrical cut first and refuse to acknowledge the DC because they like the believe Deckard is a human.  Ironically I now know how they feel, because while I enjoyed 2049 for what it tried to do, I don't agree with most of the creative choices they made.  I feel like I can only watch 2049 from the viewpoint of it being a dream or an alternate reality so it doesn't ruin the canon of the original.        
  

Thank you for your insights, explanations and take on BR, Rey...

I saw the theatrical cut when I was 15 at the cinema when first released. It is the only one I knew of, until the DC came out in 93'. I had read about the Deckard subplot, but never made any connection on the few viewings I had of the film in the original cut. I just saw Deckard as being a human cop, or is that Blade Runner, hunting down the dangerous androids. Deckard being a replicant himself was really of no real consequence to me, even after seeing the DC and FC. The FC does look beautiful though.

It's only when the sequel was announced, that I have questioned the genuine relevance of it. 2049 still leaves this aspect unresolved, however, and like I have mentioned, Deckard has human aged and was this mentioned at any stage about the aging process for replicants?

Scott, I suppose knew what he wanted to suggest as an artist and film-maker, but apparently in Dick's story, Deckard was human and Scott's take on wanting to make a different suggestion, has blurred the concept. Not that that is a bad thing, but was it really necessary to begin with? The studio didn't think so and what purpose does it serve in the larger scheme of both film's stories? It is still ambiguous.

What 2049 has done, is blur the line even more regarding replicants and humans. Who "were" the humans in this film, was that clear? Replicants hunting replicants, or humans just wanting to destroy the synthetics they never should have created in the first place. Are replicants the ones now producing\creating more replicants?

The setting\time frame for the film does mar it for me a bit, unless I just see it as an alternative futuristic universe, without taking the dates into consideration. It does seem a bit odd that they made the film in the early 80's, Dick's story was set early 90's and they set the milieu only 37yrs after the film was released in 2019. It appears that not much insight was placed on this aspect. Perhaps 2119 might have made it appear more believable. They kept the date setting, too close to Dick's source date.        

That is an excellent point you have made about how it can appear to be a cheap shot regarding Deckard and Rachael's characters appearing in 2049. I would say though, since it has been 35yrs since the original BR and not many of the younger generation would know much about the film, or even care for it, they attempted to put a slightly different spin on it, by introducing new stand alone characters and a plot that would work autonomously. For fans of the original, or even those that knew what it was about, it's just really a tie in so perhaps they wouldn't feel disappointed, but yes, perhaps unnecessary.  BR 2049 does come over as a tad contrived and perhaps even self-indulgent. It has just created more confusion and viewers are attempting to put a handle on a cup, when it's really a saucer. It can't be fully explained.

That said, and in spite of the length of the running time, I still feel from a technical standpoint, an acting standpoint, and a food for thought aspect with it's themes, the film still delivers in spades. Much of this is due to the intelligence, skill and care that was taken with every aspect of the production, in spite of any flaws in the story or concepts behind it. I was impressed, and while not everyone's cup of tea, it's quality can't be ignored.

The definitive release of Blade Runner is called "Final Cut" and it has the unicorn scene in it.

It's the one most available for new purchases, probably.

It's definitely on iTunes.

Just saw this tonight finally. Honestly, I was disappointed. The last half-hour is good (when Ford finally shows up), but the first two hours suffer from non-engaging and sluggish storytelling despite great visuals and fine acting. I think Leonard Maltin's review is spot-on. For the record, I like the original Blade Runner although I'm not a huge fan of it.

Better than I thought. I liked the slow pacing. And there was enough to go on with it: Wallece is still alive and so is the rebellion.

Sure, but who cares?  I think this was my biggest letdown in the film.  None of the characters drew me in.  I liked K well enough (and I'm a Ryan Gosling fan so that helped), but I wasn't as fascinated with his relationship with Joi as others seem to have been.  Wallace is a stock villain, a ruthless megalomaniac.  Luv's motivation was anyone's guess, as she cried at Wallace's abuse of one replicant but seemed more than happy to kill anyone who got in her way, human or otherwise.  

Anyway if that's the angle of the sequel-- the final war with Wallace or whatever, I'll pass.  I enjoy the personal nature of the story in BR, I don't need to see a Matrix movie called Blade Runner 2064.    

Would have been nice if the movie was only around 30 mins long.

I viewed Blade Runner 2049 on Monday, I found it scarcely engrossing, and I would regard it as "lousy/decent." I can see why some people really admire the movie, but I can easily perceive why the film failed to live up to commercial expectations.

Visually, the movie is impressive—certainly among the better films of the year in terms of cinematography, specifically with regard to lighting, earthy or spooky color, and composition. Some of the early shots are especially memorable. But soon enough, I found the approach to be pretentious and self-indulgent. About that time, I remembered that the director was Denis Villeneuve (there were no opening credits), a fact that unfortunately made sense. Although he seems to be popular both with viewers and within the industry, I cannot count myself as an aficionado. I have now viewed his last three films in the theater. I found Arrival, which I saw twice in the theater, to be terrible and the most overrated movie of 2016, and while I deemed Sicario entertaining, it too strained for meaning and suffered from some pretentiousness (not to the extent of Arrival or Blade Runner 2049, though). But heading into the film, I had forgotten that Villeneuve was the director, so I was not prejudiced in my assessment.

I actually did not find the movie to be long—despite a running length of two hours and forty-four minutes, it did not feel overlong. Likewise, the pacing was not problematic in the abstract (if that statement makes any sense). Rather, the length and pacing did not actually fit the story, or vice versa. Either the filmmakers should have clarified and compressed the narrative, reducing the running length by about an hour, or they should have rendered the narrative more intensive and engaging. Instead, the story stretches too thinly over the running length, with Villeneuve apparently attempting to compensate through imagery. And again, that imagery is impressive in the abstract, but there is little energy or vitality to the film, sapping the imagery of intensity. More direct and less oblique dialogue would have also helped, and Blade Runner 2049 is almost totally devoid of humor, aside from the ironic convergence of two icons: Harrison Ford and . 

As with Villeneuve's previous two films—especially Arrival—rather banal or minimalist themes are given grandiose treatment. Villeneuve does not seem to understand that one cannot adequately develop theme simply through aural flourishes, spacious framing, and mystical images. As a director, he displays a penchant for atmosphere and visual imagination, but he is not much of a dramatist—in that sense, he is the anti-Oliver Stone. At least Blade Runner 2049 is not maudlin like Arrival—and thus it is not as pretentious and hackneyed. The score, meanwhile, proved appropriate yet derivative (or self-derivative, given Hans Zimmer's presence as a co-composer).

The movie has its moments, most notably the viscerally intense climactic scene where Ryan Gosling's character . (In this scene, Gosling delivers his best acting in a perhaps overly sedate performance.) Also, the earlier scene where Gosling's humanistic cyborg views a woman unseen by viewers in a nice moment of restraint and finesse—is slightly moving. But what proves curious is how many artistic renditions—sculptured, carved, digitized, whatever—of bare breasts one finds in a movie that features multiple female characters in powerful positions, including a police lieutenant (played by Robin Wright) who serves as Gosling's immediate boss. (Conversely, there is no exhibitionist male nudity.) Is this futuristic, dystopian society simultaneously patriarchal, libertine, and feminist? Or is any kind of intellectual interpretation and social evaluation beside the point, because there is no point other than the indulgence of imagery? As a heterosexual male, I am certainly 'down' with images of topless women, but like the overall film, the sensuous images are devoid of visceral and emotional resonance. 

In short, Blade Runner 2049 appears to constitute an attempt at answering a peculiar question: can one fuse a special-effects blockbuster budgeted at approximately $150M with an art-house movie? The answer seems to be, "You can try."