Future Noir!

I've been partaking in a little Blade Runner fest during the last few weeks. Meaning I've finally got round to reading Paul Sammon's insightful book on the movie, watched the documentary "Dangerous Days" from the Final Cut box-set and been reminiscing about (and searching for a copy) of the great PC computer game from the late nineties. How I'd love to get my hands on that again! I'll get round to watching the workprint at some point and will probably re-read "Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep?" (after I've got through Dick's Valis which is my current read) but all of this simply means that my enjoyment of the film is far from wanning. So here's what I think of perhaps one of the finest films ever made...

Blade Runner (1982)

Blighted by an arduous shoot that led to t-shirt wars between an unsympathetic American crew and its English director; a frosty relationship with Tandem pictures; a considerable misjudgement in releasing the film with a dour voice over narration and happy ending following mediocre preview sneaks in Denver and Dallas; and the fact it followed on the boot heels of Spielberg's wonderful ET, you would think it amazing that Blade Runner ever found a loving audience. Few films that flop ever go on to do much business, yet alone receive a re-release in the form of a director's cut at cinema screens 10 years later. However, Blade Runner isn't just any other film. The opening shot alone defines the movie as something rather special, even if to admire simply as a piece of art. But there was always much more boiling under the 'layered' surface - something the critics didn't originally catch on - which has since proved that Blade Runner is perhaps the greatest science fiction movie ever made. Thank the monkey lords for sci-fi geeks and VHS, eh?

Los Angeles, 2019, and six Nexus 6 replicants, an advanced phase of robot evolution virtually identical to a human, have arrived on Earth from an off world colony. Manufactured with an in-built four-year life span, they're looking for longer lasting batteries from the genetic engineers who designed them. Problem is replicants are illegal on Earth, under penalty of death, and having killed the crew and passengers of an off-world shuttle to get to the homeworld, they're immediately targeted for retirement by special police squads - Blade Runner units - who have orders to shoot to kill upon detection any trespassing replicants. After one Blade Runner is wounded by a replicant attempting to infiltrate the Tyrell Corporation as an employee, reluctant ex-Blade Runner Rick Deckard (an excellent world weary Harrison Ford) is called in by former boss Bryant (M. Emmett Walsh) to work some of the old magic and retire the four remaining replicants. But with the Nexus 6 model being superior in strength and agility to your average man, and only being detectable by a Voight-Kampf test which measures emotional response (something replicants lack) Deckard will be hard pushed to finish the job...

You could be forgiven for thinking Blade Runner was a fast-paced action orientated adventure flick based within a futuristic landscape. It's certainly what critics were anticipating in 1982 (so much so that rumours started the film would end with a flying car chase over the skies of LA), and with Ford in the lead role following Indy and Star Wars the last thing expected was a slow burning, intense, cerebral thriller that featured more poignancy and European art house than gunplay. Yet when you look at Philip K. Dick's source novel 'Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep?' and recognise that the content was protracted by environmental concerns and meta-physical connotations (does a computer really love you?) it's not really all that surprising. The pleasing thing is director Ridley Scott decided not to undermine the novel by turning it into an action fest, and instead concentrated on bringing to the screen perhaps the most stark and greatly realised future dystopia ever imagined.

The opening shot of an industrial shitscape with blooms of fire arcing into the sky and flying cars hovering overhead, juxtaposed by a cut to a large blinking eye and set to Vangelis' wonderful opening score, is absolutely stunning and perhaps one of the most iconic shots ever composed for science fiction. And that's just the start of the film. Having visual futurist Syd Mead on board enhanced the set design to such an extent that the look of the film almost overwhelms the rest of the movie. The heavy metal look and the layered textures of the buildings, combined with gaudy neon, big screen advertising, police 'spinners', a perpetual darkness and never ending rainfall makes for one beautiful nightmare. The world of Blade Runner is often too much for the eye to take in. That's its appeal, and why people watching it for the hundredth time are still finding something new in almost every frame. With each blink (ironic that eyes are a central theme in the movie) an entire world crashes in, be it the whimsical beauty of Eldon Tyrell's opulent office with a view to a feint sun setting behind the smog filled sky, Deckard's chase of a replicant through the populated streets of LA (including bounding through a group of Hari Krishna's) or the Bradbury building - Ridley Scott style - as you've never seen it before.

It's not surprising that since its release many a science fiction source probably owes a nod to Blade Runner. It's difficult to see the world of William Gibson's Neuromancer being set anywhere else, computer games such as Beneath A Steel Sky merely 'replicated' the visual style and numerous films have also attempted to realise the setting but with a heightened CGI colour palette. Yet, Blade Runner needs no air brushing - it looks as gorgeous today as it did in 1982. Likewise, it's fascinating that the world of Blade Runner is slowly becoming a reality with every passing day. The multicultural LA of the future, with people falling over people on its busy streets, large screen billboard advertising and a permanent 'noise' from vehicles and pedestrian crossings is really no different from that of Piccadilly Circus, Tokyo or even modern LA. The perpetual rainfall and the lack of any real animals (all animals seen in the film are replicants) is also remarkably prescient in this age of environmental concern.

If the setting is perfect for a future noir and it's burned out, down trodden, Marlow-esque detective to begin locating replicants then it's just as well Scott infused the film with depth to match the visual style. With Harrison Ford's monochrome voice over removed in the director's cut, and Ridley Scott re-inserting the original ambiguous ending and the inclusion of his precious (and beautiful) unicorn dream sequence, the subtlety of the movies themes and plot are even more greatly enhanced. The anger of the outlawed replicants and their rebellion against their creators is more thoughtfully crafted, as is Deckard's apathy to a job he loathes as he is systematically dehumanised by the process of executing those that are near enough human. Indeed, the fact that the film doesn't simply focus on Deckard but gives equal merit to those he is hunting, their thoughts, needs and concerns is unique as the audience genuinely feel sympathy for their plight. After all, as Gaff (Edward James Olmos) suggests, wouldn't we all like more life?

Like all good science fiction Blade Runner attempts to say something about the nature of man without ramming it down your throat. Roy Batty's (a superb Rutger Hauer) closing 'tears in rain' eulogy is poetic and enchanting and has more poignancy in its 'live life to the full' message that few other films can match. More so the ambiguity of Hauer's words, the motivations of the replicants and Deckard's own questionable ethics, leaves the meaning of the film specifically at the door of the viewer to make their own interpretations - the encapsulation of a perfect movie experience. You can choose to see religious allegory in Batty's meeting with Tyrell and the nail he thrusts through his hand, or not! Likewise, you can make whatever you want out of the unicorn's significance. Sure, there are some action sequences (and some gory - one sequence of eye gouging is particularly grim), but these are often tense and suspenseful, never derailing from the ethos of Blade Runner's intelligence. The replicants Deckard does manage to execute are questionable victims and the final chase is interjected by Batty alluding to a role reversal between him and his pursuer, again making the film less an obliquely black and white experience of good overcoming evil. It's much darker, oppressive and thoughtful than that...

Blade Runner is probably not for everyone. Some will find it's slow pace lethargic and the content somewhat dour and depressing. Additionally with the removal of the voice over, everything is no longer spelled out for those not conducive to subtlety and thinking for themselves. But, for those looking for a visual treat and a thoughtful, cerebral story to match, there is little that can top Blade Runner. Easily Ridley Scott's best film, with performances from Ford and Batty that neither has ever bettered, there's a good reason why a director's cut of the movie was released 10 years later. That's simply to show to those that never got round to it the first time what a truly magnificent piece of filmmaking Blade Runner is. Outstanding!


Overall - If only you could see what I have with my eyes, and whilst I'm sure I'll never get to see what the Tanhauser Gate or an attack ship on fire off the shoulders of Orion actually look like, I have seen Blade Runner. It's awesome! Watch it now!

Keep on running....

Damn my masochism. Damn my best friend and his "ideas". Damn my refusal to say "how about doing it next year?" Yes, these are the conditions that have led to me signing up for this year's Great North Run on Sunday 5 October 2008. Following the 10K I completed back in July, I've really got into my running again, although I much prefer a fast paced middle distance sprint over a lethargic, enduring jog that seems to go on forever!! Still, you can't raise money running to Sainsbury's and back so a far-flung distance it has to be. 13 miles should about do it - I must be going fucking nuts; that's a blimming long way.

It would have been okay if I'd stuck to the original plan of doing the Great North Run in 2009. Lewis, one of my best men, thought it would be a good idea (for chuckles presumably) if we did it in 2008 instead, giving us precisely 10 weeks to get into shape for the big day. Shit! Ten weeks isn't enough time - so why in the blue hell did I say yes? Peer pressure, probably, but I must admit I did like the feeling of my body looking toned and feeling strong from the training I'd previously undertaken for the July 10K. More importantly being a bone-idol, tea-drinking procrastinator, I find it quite difficult to actually motivate myself to do any actual exercise unless I absolutely, positively have no other choice. Having a target set before you is an ideal motivator!

So, after a few weeks gradual build up of the kilometres, I was up in Leeds at the weekend visiting Lewis and we did our first 10K in training. I followed this up on Monday with another 10K back in London Town. Christ, are my calf's still pinching this evening! But with the Great North Run and the sponsorship for the Multiple Sclerosis Society spurring me on, give it a bit of time and 10K should get easier... it's when the training gets to 15K I'll start to worry. Oh, and only seven weeks left - bollocks! That's seven weeks without beer...

If you fancy sponsoring me and Lewis for undertaking a good hard run around Gateshead on 5 October, then check out the following justgiving link. The Multiple Sclerosis Society is a worthy cause and we will both greatly appreciate your contribution. Many thanks!

http://www.justgiving.com/alboyandlewisgnr

Irrational Hate Football Player - #1 Fillipo Inzaghi

Everyone has one, don't they? A player that in nearly everyone else's book is top bollocks and the stats don't lie. A magnificent pro, blessed with skill and an abundance of talent that helps them to win match after match and trophy after trophy. But despite all this logic, there's something about this player that still makes you think - 'hang on a minute, how has he managed to achieve this, he's fucking wank!' So, in the whole bastion of footy, past and present, who is your irrational hate player? This irregular series will keep trap of the players on the television I'm usually laughing at for their inelegant inability, usually before they score a screamer that totally undermines by argument. Bastards...

Irrational hate player #1 - Fillipo Inzaghi

Amazingly, Fillipo has supposedly scored more goals in Big Cup than any other player. Yet this stat fails to confer that they were all tapped in from a yard out or deceived the keeper by a series of flooky fucking deflections (see Jap Stam's boot). The weasley looking one plays football like he has ricketts, his limp legs falling over themselves as he hits the ground for the thousandth fucking time, and that's only in the first half. Devoid of any skill, talent or ability he's still managed to hold down a regular shirt at the likes of Juventus and Milan, and occasionally trotted out for the Azzuri every now and again, always scoring a brace of goals yet remaining entirely innocuous and ineffective throughout a match. What a bunch of arse! Burn him - he must be a witch...