Harrison Ford in Ridley Scott's Blade Runner
There is simply no scene in Blade Runner that approaches that moment in Au hasard Balthazar. Indeed, Scott doesn't even try, for Blade Runner is one of those movies whose reputation rests almost entirely upon the "criticism of intent": a noxious reiteration of the intentional fallacy. Fans and supporters of the film simply toss around ideas of what they "like" about the film, supported or not, then cross-reference each others' speculations, while conveniently ignoring either counterevidence or lack of evidence. That approach then gets supplemented by elements such as the director's own take on what the film is about, including those found in a handful of documentaries and interviews.
For instance, in 2002 Scott told The Observer that he liked the idea of pain — a subject he claims to explore in his film — due to a sibling's prolonged death from cancer. However, despite Roy Batty's occasional winces, there is nothing in Blade Runner (in any version) that suggests that pain is a major theme. Maybe Scott intended it; maybe it's a quarter-century of wanting to do something in the film and claiming it's there, but the net fact is that Blade Runner is not an exploration of pain. Period.
Another bandied-about claim is that Blade Runner is somehow "visionary," which is based upon the suffusion of details that fill the screen — in other words, all the techno stuff. Yet, this is rather standard fare in sci-fi films, from Fritz Lang's Metropolis to Stanley Kubrick's 2001: A Space Odyssey (that film's special effects director, Douglas Trumbull worked on Blade Runner), in addition to the similarly themed Logan's Run (a goofier but much more enjoyable effort), Star Wars, and Scott's own Alien. Among the aforementioned titles, only Metropolis and 2001 could be considered visionary — for their tales, not their technical wizardry.
Even Blade Runner's most ardent supporters admit how much it stylistically leeches off ofMetropolis, especially in regard to its vision of a future Los Angeles. Alien, for its part, certainly laid the visual template of a dark mechanistic future that Blade Runner exploits and that has led to what is known as cyber-punk. In short, Blade Runner is not visionary in any sense of the word; instead, it's a highly derivative effort — the very antithesis of visionary.
Similarly, Scott is by no means a visionary director. Years ago, he would have been called a studio craftsman because there is never a moment or passage in his work where one immediately knows that it is from a Ridley Scott film. Great, good, or bad, all of Scott's films are technically fine, but leave no indelible imprint à la Stanley Kubrick, Robert Bresson, Michelangelo Antonioni, or Akira Kurosawa.
The DVD version of "The Final Cut" comes on two discs. The second disc offers only a three-hour-plus documentary, Dangerous Days: Making Blade Runner. While Dangerous Days has some interesting information, its length is off-putting, especially considering the rather wan film it explores so deeply. The first disc contains the film, and it is certainly a visual stunner — Jordan Cronenweth's cinematography is remarkable, though, again, there is no "signature" visual moment that raises Blade Runner above dozens of other sci-fi movies. On the downside, Vangelis' score, like all his film music, is overwrought and pretentious.
The DVD also has some minor bonus features and a trailer, but the meat of this disc is found in its three audio commentaries — even though none is particularly stellar. The best is probably Scott's, despite a number of self-congratulatory remarks and the director's tendency to roam off the mark. He provides some useful background information, but ultimately he seems to be stuck too deeply in self-backpatting to be of any real service. In other words, the commentary is more self-centered than film-centered.
Another commentary is provided by the visual-effects guys. This one is simply dull, filled with technospeak and minor recollections. Its only bright spot is the claim that the tower explosions in the opening scenes were leftover shots from Antonioni's Zabriskie Point (made over a decade earlier) that had been sitting around in a vault and were superimposed on the model set of the futuristic city.
The third commentary features the film's producer, Michael Deeley, and its screenwriters, Hampton Fancher and David Peoples, among others. Fancher and Peoples spend much of the commentary trying to be smart asses, mouthing a poor man's Abbott and Costello routine about who wrote what. The first time that occurs, it's mildly amusing; pretty soon it becomes a bore, in addition to being both boorish and pointless.
"Even Blade Runner's most ardent supporters admit how much it stylistically leeches off of Metropolis, especially in regard to its vision of a future Los Angeles. Alien, for its part, certainly laid the visual template of a dark mechanistic future that Blade Runner exploits and that has led to what is known as cyber-punk. In short, Blade Runner is not visionary in any sense of the word; instead, it's a highly derivative effort — the very antithesis of visionary"? You sir, are in possession of what we in the Art Department refer to as a 'deaf eye'. As stunning as "Metropolis" is, it was a quaint antique in our view. You are incorrect on so many levels outside the realm of design that I am exhausted merely reading your diatribe. If this your honest, fair evaluation of a motion picture, I recommend that you seek out an alternative endeavor. Don't give up your day job Danny Boy. David L. Snyder, Art Director, "Blade Runner"
How tall is Daryl Hannah anyway?"-;