Do mean Judas' kiss? If so why not be more direct and say so?

Great discussion.

To me, Batty appears to be a Zarathustrian figure, decending from the cave (Off World) to bring a message, a philosophy to Man, who will one day be superceded by the Ubermensch (human-manufactured androids?) who will hold dominion, not just over this planet, as we do now, but over the galaxy and these descendants will one day see C-beams glittering in the darkness at Tannhauser gates, or something even more beautiful. There is definitely a Nietzschean influence in the philosophy of the book and film.

Deckard's life is spared, after all he has done, because he is an untermensch - an underling - and the comparitively intellectually and physically superior Batty - an Ubermensch - holds the position of 'Guide' to Man, who must overcome himself and achieve a greater level of Being.

One fascinating aspect of this thread has been the raising of crypto-religious imagery and themes. Yet if you look at a range of sci-fi authors (and I'm not that knowledgeable in this area) for the most part you find the material frequently verges on "metaphysical" but very rarely into strait out religion. Dear old Carl Sagan even raises the flag for atheism in another Warner title CONTACT. Unfortunately the movie goes all weak in the knees putting poor Jodie Foster through some sort of inquisition over her disbelief in God (would this realistically happen even in America?) Maybe I am reading this wrong and the trial sequence is meant to show the power of the Totalitarian religious right??

I do think in Philip Dick's titles on flm (and the Aldiss/Kubrick/Spielberg AI) invocations of godly aspiration, resurrection etc are made very much in the absence of god or religious belief. Another thread altogether might be the so-called "religious" or spiritual cinema of Bresson, Dreyer, Ozu, even Rossellini. Any takers?

That is the same misinterpretation of Nietzsche that the Nazis suggested (thanks to rewritings by his sister), reading "Ãœbermensch" as a "Above", a supreme being, noting on genetic and mental supremacy.

"Ãœber" is not to be translated "Above" but "Over", as Nietzsche talks about "Ãœberwindung des Abgrundes" and "Ãœberwinding des Lebens", both in Ecce Humo and in Also Sprach Zarathustra. The idea is, that what seperates man (here overman), is that he has a will of his own. What seperates mensch from Ãœbermench is "die Weltsehle" and being aware of it.

Central to Nietzsche was here the rejection of Christianity as a "slave religion", who forced man to live according to a set of moral laws and then to be awarded in the next life. However when Nietzsche said that God is dead, he was not suggesting nihilism or atheism, but rather that what the church was preaching was in direct opposition to what Jesus had said. Nietzsche suggested, that rather than a set of absolute dogmas, man should first give up these ideas, then as he had no values should reevaluate morality and freedom, hence become free (Ãœberwindung), and finally emerge as an Ãœbermensch.

As we are in the Criterion Forum, Criterion has recently released a very Nietzschian film, pure Transcendentialism, with "Der Junge Törless", where Törless begins to question absolutes (most directly thru mathmatics) and moral values and finally emerges as an Ãœbermensch, having evaluated morality for himself.

In "Blade Runner" there is no notions of Nietzschian philosophy nor Transcendentialism. Roy is to begin with consumed with hatred, but realises, that it all has been in vain, as it hasn't enriched his life. It appears more as an elegy or Greek tragedy.

What has enriched his life is what he has experienced:

I've seen things you people wouldn't believe. Attackships on fire on the shoulders of Orion. I watched C-beams glitter in the darkness at Tannhauser gate. All those moments will be lost in time, like tears in the rain. Time to die.

Followed by Decker who said:

I don't know why he saved by life. Maybe in those last moments he loved life more than he ever had before, not just his life, anybodies life, my life. All he wanted was the same answers the rest of us wants: Where do I come from, where am I going, how long have I got.

As I said before, the reason why Roy doesn't kill Decker is not because Deckard is a puny, pathetic little runt, but because he in his moment of death realises the beauty of life, hence cannot destroy what he lusts for, what he loves. Roy is thus giving Decker that second chance that he himself never had, because he was destined to die at a set date, and by letting him live said: Take care of life, love it, as it all will end some day.

Actually not. The idea in "Contact" is to show two sides of belief. The one side is represented by religion, who has belief and who questions data if or if not they are signs from God. The other side is science, who has no belief, who relies on facts. Sagan then pushes science to an extreme, where there are no facts, where only the scientific intution, the hope, and thus the belief, guides one, and thus shows, that believing is part of being human, be it in God or be it in extraterristial life.

What Sagan attacks is fundamentalism (religious right) and demagogs (the cults), but he embraces the human search for whatever gives our lifes meaning and purpose, and that is belief, in any form.

Close, but no cigar.

Issues relating to the character of Deckard have not been discussed much, here. Putting aside for a moment the "replicant or not?" question, here is a classic movie hero: a wiseacre detective, hard-boiled and streetwise. Also, he's played by Harrison Ford - giving the role a tone and image that begs comparison/contrast with his famous Han Solo/Indiana Jones characters.

Let's make that clear: one does not cast Ford in the lead role of a film without either exploiting and/or (in fewer cases) subverting his "noble" image/features. Over the course of Blade Runner, the treatment of "the Harrison Ford hero" definitely qualifies as the latter. He's set up as a wise, hard-boiled noir hero - although his total reliance on the Voight-Kampff test sets him apart from instinct-centered noir heroes like Philip Marlowe and Sam Spade - but he's repeatedly made out to be a sucker. And it's not like this is readily apparent, either; one approaches the film thinking that it's a mega-budget sci-fi epic with a predictable, normalized pattern of "conflict, overcome by ingenuity and/or strength." But compared to the film's real (one might say secret) hero, Roy, Deckard is shown to be an absolute boob. He's a nitwit, a slob, a chauvinist, a bad liar. He's the clumsiest action star in any Ridley Scott film, and there's some competition from Keith Carradine - in fact, compared to Deckard, Nicolas Cage in Scott's Matchstick Men is like George Sanders. Compared to Deckard, the nebbish Sebastian (played with typical brilliance by William Sanderson) has a quiet, humble grace.

From the first scene with Deckard, in which his total ignorance of the city's language (that mix of German, French and whatever else) hinders him from communicating with Gaff and identifying the Chinese cook as being fluent in English, to the climactic chase/fight sequence, in which Deckard is outmatched in every conceivable way other than his superior lifespan, which isn't even the primary factor in his ultimate survival, Deckard is humiliated in every way short of being kicked in the nuts by a little girl. He defeats the other replicants almost by accident.

It's a mistake to say that Roy saves Deckard because Roy has suddenly - or at any time - acquired an appreciation of someone else's life.

It's a mistake to conflate his personal lust (and murderous greed) for "extra life" with a respect for what someone else has naturally.

He saves Deckard because, in doing so, his mercy is God-like. Not because he miraculously turns into Katharine Hepburn at the last moment and says, "Oh Deck, make the most of your life, as it will end one day." Gah.

Well I think a film can tackle religious themes without getting tangled up in religion. That is...the church doesn't have a monopoly on Christian/Catholic thought, if you know what I mean. You can work out all of these issues in the realm of atheism, agnosticism, secularism, etc. In fact it's probably wise to do so.

I don't think Contact went weak in the knees. It was pretty ballsy, what it ended up doing with regards to spirituality and religion. Just my opinion. Also Jodie Foster was never better.

I like, or at least take seriously, most of your analysis here, but I have one tiny quibble. Marlowe is often just as much of a boob.

He gets the job done, most times, but he often winds up with someone (one of the cops, some miscreant he's bundling off) having a few yuks at his expense and suggesting he wise up and play ball. His refusal to do so is ultimately noble, but he doesn't spend a lot of time patting himself on the back for it, and it's often costly for him, emotionally as well as financially.

Deckard's bad qualities you describe are a little more Mike Hammer than Spade or Marlowe

That's not true. In the theatrical release, Deckard's voiceover narration makes it clear that he's hip to Gaff's lingo:


In that case, he was just being a pain in the ass to Gaff.

You're 100% right! I forgot about that, how embarrassing. I suppose I got carried away with stating my case - another viewing would have cleared things up. In fact I should check the film out one more time - theatrical version - before writing more on it.

Polybius: cheers for your Marlowe comment. Perhaps I'm too enamored with what Howard Hawks did with the Big Sleep to see any chinks in the character's armor. I read the novel of The Big Sleep as well as Lady in the Lake, and around that time I also read Red Harvest. Chandler's Marlowe didn't make as big an impression on me as Continental Op, who I found extremely, if refreshingly, nasty, even more so than his film counterparts, Clint Eastwood and Toshiro Mifune. But I take your point, and thank you again.

It's a minor one, but I'm glad.

I've had to keep my Marlowe insights sharp in defending Altman's The Long Goodbye against people who think they're Chandler purists solely on the basis of seeing The Big Sleep.

At the end of a lot of his cases, Marlowe actually reminds me more of Rick Blaine "A guy standing on a station platform in the rain, with a comical look on his face, because his insides have been kicked out."

There is some really good discussion here, and I was wondering if anyone could recommend any must-read books on Blade Runner regarding some of the ideas and arguments brought up here. I already have a few, including Future Noir: The Making of Blade Runner and Blade Runner: The Inside Story. If there’s any I absolutely should add to the collection, it would be great to know... Thanks.

Well, when I studied the film a few years back, I found this little book to be extremely valuable - it'll tell you everything you want to know about Blade Runner including the production process, the differences between the 2 released versions and the big philosophical issues explored.

Future Noir: The Making of Blade Runner

First off-topic: Well, Bogart's Marlowe does get a clean, professional-grade ass-whooping...

Marlowe seems to be the kind of character that's been left to filmmakers to reinvent as they see fit. As you note, there's a great distance between a Bogey Marlowe and an Elliot Gould version. Dare I say after only reading two Marlowe books that he's a kind of blank slate - not a bad thing - and his only significant features are the ways he's "savvy," the ways he isn't, and something about having been in the war at one time. On the other hand, Hammett's heroes are less passive, more tainted by the events of his stories, less a cool observer than an active player. This is loud and clear in Red Harvest and even The Thin Man. (The latter isn't as nasty as HARVEST but it's dirtier than the famous film version.)

And then on-topic: I've had to break up my latest BR viewing into segments in order to attend to more pressing matters. But here are my alternating takes on the Gaff entrance:

First, in the director's cut, the meaning is not clear. Deckard seems neither dumb nor savvy. The whole thing plays like a wink wink to the audience that doesn't take.

In the theatrical release, his line about "I wasn't going to make it easy on him" is said prior to landing on the police headquarters building, and the focus has already shifted from their interaction to the spectacle of the city from an airborne perspective. It's one of those awkward mis-timings in the narration that probably bugs people less than Harrison Ford's delivery or the lumpy prose he's been called upon to deliver. Still, one cannot help but to love a line like "Sushi - that's what my ex-wife called me. Cold fish."

The spoken narration actually makes Deckard seem like more of an ass. But the absence of it keeps the viewer from being tempted to entirely downplay the importance of Roy's story. I mean, if one character narrates throughout the whole movie, he dominates the whole movie. If nobody narrates, it becomes less of a situation where anyone is dominating anything. And Deckard becomes more of a time-clock punching schlub than an Indiana Jones superhero.

JF Sebastian - poor sucker.

My recent viewing reinforced my interpretation of the "why did Roy save Deckard" question. The notion that he did so because he suddenly and finally realized the beauty of life is out of the question. Saving Deckard is clearly a gesture towards godliness and self-love. All the more so because it's a gesture of mercy. And he takes his sweet time. Saving Deckard allows Roy to exhibit a whole array of superhuman qualities - the computer precision necessary to calculate the last possible second that he could catch Deckard by the wrist; the endurance to withstand both the ebbing of his life force and the (self-inflicted) pain of the nail in his hand - hmmm, a recreation of classic Christ imagery???? - and the strength required to lift a rain-soaked adult male from a crouching position. (Plus he lifts with his back, not his legs, which many a workplace safety supervisor would frown upon. But fuck it, he's a Nexus 6.)

My esteem for the film flourishes with each viewing.

Exactly. I just got a new tv and can finally watch dvds with component input. The increase in detail is amazing, so I was popping in different movies, and was blown away by that scene in Blade Runner. Nearly every shot has something so beautifully evocative about it, (which is true for every scene in the movie) especially the placement of a light source or a slowly spinning fan. The framing and mise en scene is just so wonderful, I'm amazed every time. Ridley Scott is/was a genius in that regard. He should return to science fiction.

There's also Scott Bukatman's book on Blade Runner from the BFI Modern Classics series. I wouldn't say it was "must-read" though; it left me a little cold. I've only read it once though, and it stands as a contribution to intelligent critical discourse around the film.

How about actually examinating the film, instead of making your interpretations up as you go, when you now openly contradict yourself.

Are you trying to compete with Annie Mall?

You know, I wanted to flame back, but I'd really just like to know just where you get off telling people to focus on the film while at the same time you develop personal vendettas that mean nothing to anyone. Talk about contradictions.

Also you'll be so kind as to point out where lies the contradiction. And don't take four days to respond, it doesn't help.

He had a great triple-play with The Duellists, Alien, and BR, but his '80s work - Black Rain and Someone to Watch Over Me in particular - created a hole from which he could only crawl to boring Oscar glory, first in honest failure (Thelma & Louise), then in epic failure (1492), then after a break (White Squall and G.I. Jane) a half-success (Gladiator, for which he lost the Directing prize) and two actual Good (if not Great) Movies (Black Hawk Down and Matchstick Men). In short, if you want to know my opinion, his genius comes and goes.

Honestly Henrik, I fail to see the contradiction. In both posts/statements cbernard has taken the position that Roy has saved Deckard because he (Roy) feels he is a superior being to Deckard, and can exercise a god-like omnipotence when making the decision to save his (Deckard's) life. An act of mercy, as cbernard describes it to be, doesn't necessarily imply an appreciation of someone else's life, as the action could be conducted out of pity. It seems clear to me that cbernard's position in both posts is that when Roy saves Deckard, Roy believes himself to be a superior being.


Whoa!

S'truth Guys! Henrik is right to pull people up on this "interpret as you go" thing, But several other people were also right to figure other things , within a disciplined context, into this fairly routine if stylish (to me) movie. It is - after all only Ridley Scott, and end of the day it's ONLY A MOVIE!!! I mean - has anyone re-visited GLADIATOR recently?

When I recall the rabid blockout to my gay-read of the kiss between Tyrell and Roy I am beyond entranced at the multitude of interpretations that now surround these two characters. How about the idea this is simply a narrative advancement, so the movie can END?

That's a bit of an over-statement isn't it? We only had one person who strongly objected to that interpretation, and a few others who perhaps questioned it due to their own interpretations, but I doubt very many of us are completely opposed to that reading. Maybe we just don't have very much more to add to your thoughts. I'd have to say your comments make a strong argument that there may be a homosexual subtext to the scene, though I'm not going to say it's crystal clear, considering the biblical interpretation seems to fit the material in a much easier manner.


I still consider Ridley Scott to be a very accomplished filmmaker, and often I believe he is honestly attempting something greater than box-office success. People can laugh and dismiss me all they want, but Matchstick Men was among my favorite films a few years ago and I believe it does wonders in illustrating generational conflict and baby-boomer guilt. I think my view of Scott's career matches cbernard's, and I'm always interested in seeing how his next project turns out.

Matchstick Men was a fantastic film with an ending that rings very true. I remember a lot of critics attacked the ending (and the film in general), and I also think Ridley Scott is an accomplished director. Blade Runner, Alien, Gladiator and Matchstick Men are all standouts in their respective genres, but I was very dissappointed in Black Hawk Down. Okay, I'm rambling, but Ridley Scott is awesome and I think his brother could learn something from him.

You will not say that after having seen "Kingdom of Heaven"