Аn obedient latest-model replicant of its predecessor

Rating: Null/10 (2 December 2017)

Perhaps it's too much to ask, but whenever I walk into the cinema to see a highly-anticipated film, I am secretly hoping that it will not only live up to the hype, but will also bravely delve into topics and aspects of the human condition that I haven't seen explored before. Bladerunner 2049 is undoubtedly a visually stunning piece of art but lacks the elegant and subtle exploration of original philosophical questions of the first film, while posing as being of comparable depth. This issue is probably best illustrated by pointing out the overdone narration courtesy of Jared Leto's character, Niander Wallace, who lays out his vision (Joker-style) in too much convoluted, pretentious, unnecessary detail. The sequel feels like an obedient latest-model replicant of its predecessor - with numerous technical advances at its disposal, but lacking its soul. All memorable and novel moments of the original film are repeated in some shape or form, and while shiny new action sequences are added, not much new is presented idea-wise.
The broken love story of the sequel attempts to explore a reversed version of the one in the first film, as this time a non-human (in the form of the widely-available incorporeal pocket AI, Joi) is showing to (what she is convinced to be) a 'real' person how to give in to his humanity and is encouraging him to experience a woman's touch. This is unfortunately convoluted to the point of contradiction: Joi convinces herself that K has been born; clearly to her this is the only criterion to qualify him as human; only then does she deem him deserving to be with a real human woman. The AI then proceeds in applying a double standard for herself, resulting in possibly the strangest on-screen threesome (points for originality there, if not for substance). This is then further complicated by the turn of events, showing that K was not 'special' in that way at all. Despite claiming to love him, Joi comes with pre-installed dogma - replicants are less than human and hence undeserving of 'real' emotion. K's love arc ultimately fails to advance the story in any meaningful way. Deckard remains the only human (don't get me started on the controversy regarding this) capable of loving and receiving love from a replicant while seeing them as equal. His relationship with Rachel is once again the true driver of the story, despite the disproportionately brief screen time allotted to touch upon it in the sequel.
The main story is predictable, which is only exacerbated by the choice to mimic the pace of the first film throughout. While the slow, sombre storyline progression serves a purpose in the original film, by giving the viewer a chance to read between the lines and ponder fresh concepts while wondering what comes next, it is on many occasions misplaced and misused in its successor and renders it sluggish and somnolent. Perhaps the excessive length of the new film is due to indecision on where to expedite the story arc in order to keep up with a modern audience familiar with the presented concepts.
That being said, it is most certainly not the fault of the leads - Gosling and Ford deliver as usual and even outdo themselves in the key moments of the film, particularly the final act. The characters' inner struggles are heart-wrenching, and some of the strongest moments of the film are precisely the ones bereft of words or action. The ending is ambiguous, but rather than aimed to leave food for thought, strongly hints a looming sequel (which seems the more inevitable with all the talk of impending war throughout the film). Here's to hope for no more storyline clichés in the next instalment - otherwise all I care about is whether Deckard's whiskey-appreciating four-legged companion will make a return.