Review: Blade Runner

Blade Runner: The Final Cut
Cert: 15 / 112 mins / Dir. Ridley Scott / Trailer



Well, when you're in the capital anyway, and it turns out that your new favourite cinema is showing one of the greatest films ever made, why wouldn't you?

And so, a glorious Saturday evening in June was dedicated to the dark, the dirt and the relentless rainfall of Blade Runner: The Final Cut. Sure, it's a little grainy in some shots, and it's a little framey in some of its slo-mo, but the film still looks utterly gorgeous 33 years from its incep-date. Whether the Final Cut is the definitive edition of the movie is still up for debate, of course, but since the core of the story holds in all seven versions, I'd happily watch any of them on a massive screen with thundering sound. The only real problem I had was removing myself from the familiarity of the film and trying to watch it afresh to maximise its cinematic impact (I've never seen Blade Runner at the cinema before, film fans, only at home).

It occurred to me that November 2019 looks to be a largely horrendous time to be alive, and I'm quite miffed that we'll all have gone back to using 10" CRT monitors by then. Although on the plus side, any voice-operation glitches have been ironed out and booze seems easy to come by at any hour of the day or night, so I'm sure I'll manage.

Watching Blade Runner has renewed my worries about the sequel, not least because Ridley Scott now has a track-record of derailing continuity he didn't bloody well write in the first place. It's one thing to complain about George Lucas' revisionism, but at least he doesn't go changing Steven Spielberg's stories. None of this can spoil what the original Blade Runner (in its many variations) means to so many, of course, but I know plenty of folks who can't watch Raiders Of The Lost Ark without re-tasting Kingdom of The Crystal Skull. I'm not one of them, by the way. I'm one of the twelve people in the world who enjoyed KotCS, but I'm sure you get my drift.

Anyway, yes of course he's a replicant...

If you can, do.



Well, you should own it already, so…



In Ford's case, that title would belong to Doctor Jones.



It does.



I will.



I'm fairly certain I can hear the front-end of one, but the internet doesn't seem to corroborate this, so I'll side with no.



What, apart from starring everyone's favourite Corellian smuggler, you mean? Honestly…







DISCLAIMERS:
• ^^^ That's dry, British humour, and most likely sarcasm or facetiousness.
• Yen's blog contains harsh language and even harsher notions of propriety. Reader discretion is advised.
• This is a personal blog. The views and opinions expressed here represent my own thoughts (at the time of writing) and not those of the people, institutions or organisations that I may or may not be related with unless stated explicitly.