Ridley Scott's timeless masterpiece

Rating: 10/10 (28 August 2012)

Audiences in 1982 did not respond kindly to "Blade Runner". Too downbeat, too slow-moving, and not the same kind of Harrison Ford performance we all fell in love with in "Star Wars" and "Raiders of the Lost Ark". Truth be told, I hated this movie, the first time I saw it. It took two and three further viewings to really appreciate what was going on here, and the movie soon became one of my all-time favorites, as a result.
Director Ridley Scott plunges his audience into a nightmarish vision of the not-too-distant future Los Angeles, complete with flying cars and industrialism run-amok. Other planets have been colonized for the elites, while the rest of humanity is left on Earth. The monolithic Tyrell Corporation manufactures Replicants (artificial humans that are near-indistinguishable from the real thing) , the latest version being the Nexus-6, for use on off-world jobs that are either too dangerous or unseemly for a real human. Four-year lifespans are implemented to keep the Replicants in line, and Blade Runner units (special police forces) patrol the streets to root out any infiltrating renegades.
Harrison Ford stars as Rick Deckard, a retired Blade Runner who's pressed into service when four Replicants (Rutger Hauer, Daryl Hannah, Joanna Cassidy and Brion James) hijack a shuttle and hide out on Earth. Their pursuit is to gain an audience with their maker, Dr. Eldon Tyrell (Joe Turkel). Turkel, meanwhile, has introduced a new version of the Nexus-6 in the form of Rachael, his administrative assistant (Sean Young). And Deckard finds his mission clouded as he slowly falls in love with the beautiful woman.
From an acting standpoint, Ford, Young and Hauer are the standouts. Ford delivers a low-key performance, brandishing his devil-may-care grin only sparingly. His portrayal of Deckard suggests a man who's trying to put all of the pieces together and make sense of it all; constantly uncertain. It's an ambiguous character (the good guy, but not so likable), and Ford truly sells it. Young really shines here, "humanizing" Rachael as the character faces its existential crisis. She's terrified and unstable when placed in a romantic situation and her heartbreak seems completely genuine after hearing Deckard callously drop the bombshell that she's not real. And Hauer, as the cerebral and most dangerous of the Replicants, plays up the childlike wonder of an emotionally stunted humanoid, while always keeping that lethal edge lurking underneath the surface. As good as the film's star is, Hauer absolutely steals the movie with his minute-long soliloquy at film's end.
Chief among the film's critical praises is its depiction of the dystopian 2019 Los Angeles; a city choking on its own technology and overpopulation. The streets swarm with all manner of ethnic varieties, all of them societal dregs (while the ones with money vacated long ago). Massive blimps float overhead touting the promise of a new life on the off-world colonies. Rain is constant, the skies are black, and foreign peoples violently mix into a salad bowl of clashing cultures, dominated by that of the Japanese (possibly the result of the early '80s concerns of Japanese takeover of L.A.). Advertizing reigns supreme, from blimps to billboards taking up the sides of skyscrapers.
It's a triumph of art direction, production design and cinematography. Scott has created a world that lives by its design; both repulsive and engrossing, at the same time. The streets are lit mostly by commercial neon, while interiors are lit by shafts, rays and baths of light (thanks to the brilliance of cinematographer Jordan Cronenweth). You can almost feel the steam rising from the streets and smell the grime on the payphones. No one in their right mind would want to live here, but it's the kind of place that's brimming with detail that leaves its mark; you're drawn to this vision, time and again. And let's not forget Vangelis' synth-noir music, which is less a score and more a mood exercise that wholly blends with the fabric of the overall movie's design. Total immersion, that score.
"Blade Runner" polarized audiences when it was first released, mostly due to its "leisurely" (as Gene Siskel famously put it) pacing and murky narrative. Style over substance. And I thought the same thing, at first, but further viewings proved me wrong. There's a lot going on here under the surface, the visuals just impress and constantly bring you back for another go-around. Ultimately, "Blade Runner" is a movie about ideas, from slavery to mild paranoia, and (chiefly) what it means to be human.
It's a movie that I've seen countless times, and I'm still ready to watch it again. If it's not the vast array of textural surfaces and thematic layering, it's the performances from Ford and Hauer that prove engaging (again and again). It's less a design aesthetic, more a totally immersive world that I totally enjoy returning to. It's nothing short of impressive that the same praise bolstering "Avatar" is even truer of a 30 year-old film lacking any CGI.
10/10