Blade Runner: The Final Cut

It has been pointed out by my friends at No Bulljive that I have not reviewed a whole lot of science fiction movies yet, so I figured that I should begin to amend that with one of the greats.  Sure, I could ridicule Battlefield Earth (which is in my bottom 3 movies of all time) or Alien: Resurrection (which might join that elite company if I can ever sit through it again), but I want to start the New Year off right, or at least happily.

Blade Runner is based on a Philip K. Dick novel, the first of many of Dick works to be adapted for the big screen.  In 2019 Los Angeles, the world (or LA, at least) is a very different place.  For starters, American culture in Los Angeles appears on the verge of being consumed by Japanese culture.  There are other little things, too, like flying cars and space colonies, but the big difference between here and now and 2019 is the existence of replicants.  Replicants are genetically engineered beings that look like fully grown humans, but can have superior intelligence, strength, or appearances; since they are potentially so powerful and nearly indistinguishable from humans, replicants are outlawed on Earth, and can only live in the space colonies.  When some replicants steal a spaceship (killing every human aboard) and head to Los Angeles, what are the local police to do?

Yeeeah!

That's where Rick Deckard (Harrison Ford) steps in.  Deckard is a retired police officer that is cajoled/politely blackmailed into service by his former boss, Bryant (M. Emmett Walsh).  Deckard is the best around and the only man to rival his skill as a Blade Runner (replicant identifier/hunter) was murdered by one of the replicants.  Deckard decides to go to the source of the replicants, the Tyrell Corporation, and speak to Tyrell himself (Joe Turkel).  To give Deckard an idea of what he is dealing with, Tyrell has him perform the standard "are you a replicant?" test on his assistant, Rachael (Sean Young); the test is supposed to determine how empathetic, and therefore human, the subject is.  It usually takes only a couple dozen questions to identify a replicant, but it took almost a hundred before Deckard was sure that Rachael was a replicant...and that she thought she was human.  Tricky!  The rest of the film follows Deckard on the trail of the replicants as they track down whatever it is they are in town for. 

Blade Runner is, in a very literal way, a detective story, but there's a lot more depth to it than you might expect from a typical crime and capture tale.  First off, Blade Runner is an excellent example of modern noir; the story is plot-driven, the characters are unemotional, and the film is full of shadows.  There is also a healthy dose of paranoia in the movie, as the other characters all seem to know something Deckard does not.  I think that the film's strength lies in its storytelling; the plot is pretty clear and the story has a satisfactory ending, but there are subtleties to the script that add ambiguity to certain issues and raise questions about others.  The obvious question (that I don't want to spoil for you), "Is Deckard a replicant?" can be argued convincingly from both sides, and I think that's pretty cool.  It's nice to see a science fiction movie that is not about a dystopian future, but is instead a story merely set in the future.  After all, the future can't always suck.

The performances in this film are generally pretty good.  Harrison Ford is a likable tough guy and I enjoy watching him play intelligent characters.  Rutger Hauer definitely had the meatiest supporting role; he was genuinely unsettling, playing such a calm and collected character with such rage inside him.  Most of the other actors served their purpose, but some of them had just a little touch of something special.  Sean Young had a bizarre hairstyle and made the most of her character's subtle, but complicated emotions; Edward James Olmos could have been a stereotypical cop, but they gave him a bizarre 2019 language to speak, a blend of English, Japanese, and (I think) a Slavic language; William Sanderson was surrounded by a creepy assortment of "living" toys; even Daryl "I'm a better actress when I don't speak" Hannah had some very interesting makeup.  The rest of the cast is noteworthy, but James Hong, Brion James, and Joe Turkel didn't add anything special to their roles.

Ridley Scott did a fantastic job coming up with this futuristic world.  Sure, he handled the actors well enough (particularly Hauer and Young), but the details that went into this movie are most impressive.  It's hard to put a finger on exactly what details stand out, though.  The weird Olmos language is certainly one, as is the Japanification of LA (if they really have street-side Asian noodle stands in 2019, I'm moving West!), but even the building designs are noticeably out-of-time, but still plausible.  I also liked the use of space to convey tone; busy streets sometimes helped develop a feeling of confusion or panic, but empty streets or rooms could imply danger, loneliness, or power.  Scott has an excellent eye for cinematography, so it shouldn't be surprising that the film looks great.

I should point out that this version of Blade Runner is the most recent version to be released; all in all, there are four cuts of the film available on DVD (all in the same package, too), with three or four other cuttings floating around somewhere.  The Final Cut makes some pretty significant changes to the original theatrical film, and many of the changes are noticeable from the Director's Cut, too.  I will tell you right now, though, not to waste your first viewing of Blade Runner on anything but The Final Cut.  The picture is far clearer than the previous versions, many technical problems are cleaned up, and several previously ambiguous moments are given clearer direction.  Each version of the movie is interesting, but The Final Cut is clearly the best of the bunch. 

It's difficult for me to explain exactly why Blade Runner impresses me so much.  It's well-shot, well-acted, and well-produced, it has depth and subtlety and a few "what the hell?" moments that make sense only if you choose to put some thought into the movie.  Plus, it inspired some of the lyrics to White Zombie's "More Human Than Human."  Yeah, that must be why this is a classic.  Yeeeeah!

Grumpy Old Men

The elderly are adorable!  They're not even people, they're like little pets, I want to just pinch their cheeks so badly!  At least, I do when they are foul-mouthed curmudgeons.  Grumpy Old Men is very much a movie about your favorite old person (or, if you're old, your favorite you).  You might see how the story ends a mile off, but it's a fun viewing because it's so pleasantly comfortable.

John Gustafson (Jack Lemmon) and Max Goldman (Walter Matthau) are neighbors and competitors in a never-ending battle of petty jokes and pranks.  Anyone else would admit that they are actually best friends --- they go to all the same places and do all the same things --- but these two have an imaginary grudge from years ago, and "Hello, dickhead" is as friendly as they get.  Actually, these two pay closer attention to each other than ordinary friends do; they either accompany each other around town, or peer through their window shades to see what the other is doing.  That rivalry heats up when a new neighbor moves in across the street.  Ariel (Ann-Margret) is exotic in this small, icebound town; she is not only in their age group and still attractive, she is from California and has all sorts of weird possessions and hobbies.  Ariel introduces herself to the townsfolk by going on an informal date with (seemingly) the town's entire senior citizen class.  That means John and Max are in direct competition for the last hottie either of them will ever have a chance with.  "Hello, dickhead" is starting to sound downright inviting.

The story of Grumpy Old Men is not fantastic or complicated.  It's really nothing special at all, except with the inclusion of ice fishing, something you rarely see in films because it's even more boring than regular fishing.  There are subplots and complications, secrets and reveals, but this story is just an excuse to see two old men insult each other for 100 minutes.

That's not a bad thing, mind you, but its effectiveness definitely depends on the cast.  Jack Lemmon and Walter Matthau are both wonderful in this movie.  Their interactions are so natural and so nuanced, but the insults creative; their chemistry makes it feel like you're not watching a movie, but the dialogue is witty enough to remind you that this had to have been written down at some point.  It feels like director Donald Petrie didn't even have to direct his stars, just let them loose.  The nice thing about this movie is that both Lemmon and Matthau have opportunities to show the depth of their characters, so they're not just insult machines, like the Friar's Club roastmasters.  Most of the noteworthy supporting cast was fine (Kevin Pollack, Daryl Hannah, and Ossie Davis), but their roles had limited impact on the quality of the film as a whole.  Anne-Margret did a pretty good job, although I'm still not sure about some of her character's choices; name one old person that moved from a warm climate to ice fishing territory and didn't have family nearby.  And she dates Matthau?  Isn't he a little out of her league?  Burgess Meredith, in his small supporting role as John's father, is what bumps this movie up from "pleasant" into "funny."  With the rest of the cast, this is an above-average comedy, but Meredith is hilarious and improves the entire movie.

No, Grumpy Old Men is not revolutionary or unexpected.  It's comfortable and engaging and sweet.  And Burgess Meredith is amazing.  In a drama, I would care more about the story, but this is a comedy with three old men saying some pretty funny things that only the elderly can get away with.  It's interesting to think how much less funny this movie would have been with the same cast, only twenty years younger.  This is one of the only Hollywood movies that requires its actors to age gracelessly, and they do it well.