I had never seen Blade Runner until a last night. This might not be so shocking when you consider the fact that it came out a year before I was born, but still. It’s a major landmark in sci-fi media and I had never seen it. Add to that, I have a particular love of any and all media that deals with Artificial Intelligence (the abysmal movie A.I. notwithstanding). For a very long time I’ve known that Blade Runner is a film that I not only should see, but that I would most likely enjoy a great deal. It dealt with one of my favorite topics, it was widely agreed to be a fantastic movie, and it had one of my most beloved actors in it, Rutger Hauer. There were a variety of reasons for me to see this film, and yet only one blocking me.
It was one of my ex’s favorite films.
I worry, sometimes, when I tell people he abused me, that they won’t believe me. That they’ll call me dramatic or attention seeking. He never hit me with his fists, nor his open hands. He never hit me at all. What he did do was descend into alcoholism that resulted in the theft, on more than one occasion…more than 100 occasions I would go so far to say…of my car. You see, he’d had too many DUIs and had had his license revoked. He went to jail three times over the course of our four year relationship, and, for the last six months that I knew him, he wore an ankle monitor. He drank our rent money away. He lost his job. Four nights a week I would be up at 2am crying and asking why he did this to me. On one memorable evening, when refusing to give him the keys to RETURN to the bar, he slammed me against a wall and twisted my fingers, which I had woven through the key ring, until I feared they’d break.
And I hit. Often. It seemed the only thing to do. I’d never struck a human being in my life but the first time I slapped him the shock on his face made me think maybe it was the only way to get through to him. It was the only time he looked at me during a fight, and we had so many fights. I wanted him to hurt the way he hurt me, but he didn’t care about me so how could I? He turned me into an abuser just as he abused me. He robbed me of my self esteem. I stopped talking to my friends because I was afraid of what they would say about the life I was leading. I couldn’t even speak to my mother. I had no one, just him, telling me daily with his actions that my love and my comfort weren’t worth as much to him as a shot of vodka.
And he absolutely loved Blade Runner.
He loved other things, too, of course. Indiana Jones, Star Wars, Doctor Who. But those things I never felt were tainted because I had access to all of those things either before I knew him or, in the case of Doctor Who, on my own terms, seeking them out myself rather than being introduced to them by him. But the things he did bring to my life? I can no longer watch Mystery Science Theater without experiencing a sinking, almost drowning sensation. He had trouble sleeping, you see, and would play it on the TV all day and all night, just episode after episode. I’d wake up to get a glass of water at 5am and he’d be passed out in the fetal position on the sofa with the DVD menu going. Loudly. The same was true of most Tarentino things. Reservoir Dogs and Pulp Fiction are forever lost to me.
Blade Runner, though, held a special place in his heart. He idolized Deckard, which I think had more to do with young Harrison Ford drinking copious amounts of alcohol than anything that actually happened in the film. He had the collector’s edition, though we couldn’t afford it. He bought replicas of the weapons, or made them himself. He talked about it often, but he never tried to get me to watch it. Never watched it at all that I can remember. It was always just there. A poster on our wall. The collector’s case open on our coffee table so he could play with the pieces. A looming presence that became more and more associated with him.
And then I left.
The ways in which I grew strong enough to leave could most likely fill a novel. A very depressing, often confusing novel, but nevertheless. It’s been nearly three years now and I often tell myself that if I can make it to five, a longer period of time than I spent with him, I’ll finally be free of it. It’s my hope. I’ve tried to reclaim parts of myself that I lost during that time, bit by bit. Little things. I feel more myself these days than I ever have. And that lead me, quite on the spur of the moment, to decide it was time to watch Blade Runner at last.
So what did I think of the movie? It’s hard to put into words. I don’t want to gush and say things like I loved it, because I’m not sure I did. Or at least, that’s not the right way to say it. It was wonderful. I enjoyed every minute. It was visually stunning and both lead actors were utterly amazing. The story itself is well crafted and so subtly manipulative that you don’t even realize you’re leaning towards the replicants’ side until you’re on it.
Really there’s nothing I can say about this film that a million others haven’t already said for years before I was even capable of understanding a film like this. So I’ll just try to stick to my opinion.
Opinion one: I’d heard the love scene was a little rapey and..yeah it kind of was. Also it took forever. The sexy trumpet started up and then kept going for I swear to god a hundred years. It was a jarring stop in the action for not a lot of substance and I could have done without the whole scene.
Opinion two: There were some…we’ll call them interesting directing choices towards the end, mostly relating to the combat. Took me out of the action just a bit because I was chuckling over the bizarre choices and strange visuals. It was almost cartoonish at times, which maybe was what they were going for, but I didn’t feel like it gelled well with the rest of the film.
Opinion three: I just really love Rutger Hauer. Most of my knowledge of him has been as an older man. The huntsman in 10th Kingdom. Lothos in Buffy the Vampire Slayer. I knew him in the context of my own time period and not in his own. I’ve been trying to fix that, lately, and I have not been disappointed, even if his film choices were sometimes questionable. He is an utterly amazing actor and every moment he was on screen was a treasure.
Opinion four: Deckard was most definitely a replicant. There were a couple of big clues, but honestly I knew the moment his eyes did the golden flashy thing when talking to Rachel. I mean, how is it even a discussion? It’s right there on screen. But even if it wasn’t, the rest speaks for itself. Deckard is a man who has never taken a life. Period. He is visibly unnerved every time he does it, losing his cool completely when Priss is dying. And he’s got a gun on Roy through the whole final scene and does nothing, just looks at him in panic. That is most definitely not the way a man with several “retirements” under his belt would act. There’s also the fact that he doesn’t report Rachel even though it’s sort of his job to do so. And he gets way too attached to her way too damn quick. You don’t go native that fast, and with a movie this well written overall, it can’t be a case of sloppy writing.
And all of that makes a lot more sense when you consider what we’re told right at the beginning of the film. They sent humans after these replicants, and those humans wound up on life support. Once you realize what that means, everything else falls into place. They made Deckard with implanted memories to be the perfect person to send after them. He’s expendable, but skilled. He has a handler following him around through most of the film. The first thing Tyrell has him do when they meet is question a replicant with memories to see how hard it can be to tell. He has a vision of unicorns and what does his handler leave him? A unicorn.
Like…how is this even a debate, internet? I’m seriously asking.
Opinion five: I will never tire of A.I. stories (don’t you look at me Haley Joel Osment, this doesn’t include you). It’s difficult to put into words, I think, for those who don’t see the appeal. I found myself shouting at my screen something I’ve said often in movies like this, why do they make them cry? They create these beings that they never intend to be real people and then give them the ability to cry. It’s beyond cruel and says so much about humanity, so much that isn’t good, and it breaks my fucking heart every time. Artificial Intelligence stories, at their hearts, aren’t about technology. They’re about the nature of humanity and they all ask the same question…what is the soul? I could go on for pages about that concept and fill up several other reviews, but that’s not what I’m here to do today. Suffice to say, I cried for you, Roy. I would have destroyed my god as well, in your shoes.
So yes, to echo the thousands who came before me, this was a wonderful film. And whatever bias I’d been afraid of having was completely absent. Deckard wasn’t at all what I’d expected given the near hero worship I’d seen before, and I was relieved by that. The story was amazing and yet very upsetting. Breaks my heart really, as stories like this usually do. Am I the only one who cries a little over things like I, Robot? Anyone?
I’m very glad I saw it. I’m very glad I now have it in my collection. I definitely look forward to watching it again sometime in the (probably near) future.
Note to Self: 