Blade Runner (1982), directed by Ridley Scott.
I saw this on opening night at the great Cinerama theater where my moving-going gang saw premiers of all the great science fiction and adventure films of that era: Star Wars (1977), Alien (1979), Raiders of the Lost Ark (1981), and others great and not so great. The theater is long gone now, replaced by a Wells Fargo ice arena.
We had no idea the film was a flop at the time. We were loopy over Ridley Scott for Alien (1979) and this seemed like another work of artistic SF genius.
I've seen it many times since and watched all the different cuts on home video and I don't suppose there is much new to discover. I have a jumbo paperback: Future Noir: The Making of Blade Runner by Paul M. Sammon. If I were to actually read that and view all the disc extras I would know more about the film, but in this case I like to stick with what is on the screen.
I hadn't seen the theatrical cut for a long time and wanted to give it another look. That first night we complained about the bad voice-over narration and the tacked-on happy ending, but (a) your first time is always special, whatever its flaws, and (b) the narration adds another dimension of weirdness to an already overstuffed creative vision. The Hollywood ending reminds us that we are in a movie-making tradition, not some totally new art form.
I see much more film history context now. We recognized the futuristic skyscraper quotes of Metropolis (1927) and the film-noir detective plot at the time (although now M. Emmet Walsh's lines all sound like cop-movie cliches). I see more comedy: the classic car and punk haircuts in rainy LA always got a laugh, but now Harrison Ford getting beaten up by Brion James and Daryl Hannah seems like comedy action, until the guns come out. Ford hangs off the film-famous Bradbury Building like Harold Lloyd in Safety Last! (1923).
Random notes:
Vangelis provides the best synth score of the 80s, with sax and chime additions. That soaring, falling main theme -- decadence at the moment of triumph -- fits the story and images perfectly.
The film has its own pace, particularly those leisurely scenes in the apartments.
I don't think viewers who have grown up since realize how strange the haircuts and clothing looked at the time.
Egyptian themed pyramids with 1940s fashions: that is a combination.
The city prefigures William Gibson's Sprawl and much else in written cyberpunk. The future is a mixture of high and low: it doesn't arrive for everyone at the same time.
We were fascinated by prospects of physical immortality back then. Dr. Eldon Tyrell, the "god of biomechanics" was a sort of dark lord to us. So far the computer barons are the world's richest men, but the biologists may still get their turn.
I've heard that the theory of Deckard being a replicant emerged much later, but we discussed it the first night. Our supporting evidence: the glowing eyes, his estrangement from other people and sympathy for the Nexus fugitives, the photos on his piano as fake memories, and a curious gap in the plot: that there were six replicants, three male and three female. One was killed at the Tyrell building, plus Roy, Leon, Pris and Zhora leaves one missing. Was that Deckard reprogrammed to be a Blade Runner? Against that: he doesn't seem to have great physical strength (does Rachel?) and the others don't recognize him (or do they?)
I've heard that the missing sixth replicant was explained in cut scenes or missing script, but we didn't know that at the time. The way Bryant and Gaff treat Deckard: it's very suggestive to me.
Leon has photos, too. They are holograms. It took me forever to realize that Rachel's snapshot turns to sound and video when held. I thought it was a magical invocation of her memory implant.
In moments of work-related stress we would always quote James Hong: "I just do eyes".
Roy, riding the exterior elevator after killing Tyrell, sees stars flowing by. Is that a flashback from his space travel?
Hereafter Rutger Hauer would always be the witty Aryan menace.
Remember that the escaped Nexus replicants are children: "Gosh, you have a lot of nice toys here".
On the run, need money? Both women do sex work. (I'm presuming things about Pris). For a fugitive, Zhora isn't doing a lot of concealment.
Is Harrison Ford playing "gay" in Zhora's dressing room? Bogart did the same thing in The Big Sleep (1946).
That sex scene with Deckard and Rachel: I have a book Idols of perversity: fantasies of feminine evil in fin-de-siècle culture, which claims the Victorians had a notion of "therapeutic rape". The film comes close to that. (I haven't seen the phrase used elsewhere).
Available on Blu-ray, and the "Final Cut" is now on UHD. My thumbnails are from the old five-disc "Complete Collector's Edition" Blu-ray set.