Somehow Manages to Surpass the Original

Rating: 9/10 (10 October 2017)

So where could they possibly take the Blade Runner franchise after the one-and- done original? Even as 2049 began, I had no idea, but somehow it manages not only to build on the original, develop the story naturally, and evolve it's themes, but sometimes even surpasses them. Replicants have had a rocky history in the last thirty years, being prohibited and brought back gradually after a series of violent outbursts. The Tyrell corp was bought out, there was a blackout that wiped out electronic records across the globe, and even a famine.
Sapper Morton benefited from the famine with his protein farm, living a secluded life away from the dystopian hustle-and-bustle of LA. Until the day K arrives to bring him in, unraveling a miracle impossible to believe that could shake the very foundations of human society if the truth ever got out.
The single biggest theme of both the original and 2049 is what it means to be human, what it means to be alive, how to measure consciousness and sentience, and whether that offers certain rights or not. 2049 builds on that, introducing new concepts with the express purpose of exploring and extrapolating this theme further. K is stated outright from the very beginning that he is a replicant. It's important information as he plays into how he's treated, and how he thinks of himself. While he thinks for himself, he is programmed to obey, and yet that doesn't make him come across as any less human. He's still treated as a lesser-class citizen because of it though, the same way white supremacists treat black people, or Myanmar Buddhists treat the Rohingya. One party sees themselves as more important, as more real, and spit on those who they see as beneath them. K is at the bottom of the heap...to a point.
Roger Deakins is Hollywood's biggest awards underdog. His work is simply astounding time and time again, and 2049 is no exception. Every frame is a canvas to him, as he paints glorious strokes of colour and composition. Every scene outside is grey and miserable, with snow falling peacefully around, and the streets covered in sludge. Everywhere looks like a miserable place to be, whether it's LA's slums, or the rubbish tip that is San Diego, or Morton's maggot farm that resembles a moonbase. The opening shots of the film show fields that stretch as far as the eye can see, bringing them into focus as warehouses, hangars, and industrial greenhouses. Wallace's headquarters tower above the iconic Tyrell pyramid, made of the wealthiest commodity; wood, while Deckard hides out in the irradiated wasteland of Las Vegas, bathed in red and orange hues.
The acting is also top-notch as well, of course. Ryan Gosling has become famous for his unblinking stares, some of which speak volumes with little surface emotion, while some falls flat and just looks lazy. Having watched the movie, his lack of facial emoting makes sense. He's a replicant after all. Strictly speaking he doesn't, or at least shouldn't, have emotional responses. He's a blank slate stuck into the world to do one job and one job only. Thankfully the enthralling character arc allows Gosling some room to work, and the emotions he does realise are fully formed and fully empathising.
A big mention goes to Harrison Ford as well, who's turned himself into a bit of a meme in his old age, reviving old franchises and lazing through every scene as if he doesn't really want to be there. 2049 is an exception to the rule. He doesn't go into this for the paycheck, he has a genuine interest in the film, it's source material, and the script that was written for it. He offers his best performance in years, without a doubt, and creates all the impact of the final scene all by himself. Ana de Armas is also really, really good as Joi, giving her a sense of humanity and sentience that quite literally brings her to life. The chemistry she and Gosling share is palpable and goes a long way to developing her role as a non-sexual companion. Sylvia Hoeks is menacing as Luv, Wallace's right-hand assistant. While she doesn't get quite as much meat to play around with, she does have her interesting moments tapping into what it means to be an artificial sentience. The way she treats Joi is heartbreaking, and her snarky posture makes her just as human as her protagonistic opposites.
Jared Leto, Robin Wright, Edward James Olmos, Dave Bautista, Mackenzie Davis, Lennie James, Barkhad Abdi, and even a brief appearance from Sean Young all share varying levels of supporting roles, and all enhance the movie in their own little way. Whether it's Wright's subtle advances on K, Bautista's marvel at the miracle he witnessed decades ago, James' quick change of character when he realises K is a cop, or Leto's menacing philosophical musings, each of them make their mark on the movie in such a way that they'd be missed if they weren't there, whether they have two minutes of screen time or fifteen.
Blade Runner 2049 has a hell of a lot going for it, from the way it balances nostalgia and self-referentialism to enhancing the story and themes of the original without retreading old ground is probably the best thing about it. But the story it tells and how it wants to tell it is executed to perfection. I have no doubt that in future, if I fancy watching Blade Runner, I'll choose 2049 over the original. Despite being slow and really quite long, it uses every moment to it's favour, building character and atmosphere perfectly. I give 2049 a 9/10, without hesitation. I already want to go to the cinema and watch it again.