BLADE RUNNER 2049

15

THE imperfect, rain-lashed future of the original Blade Runner is almost upon us. Released in 1982, Ridley Scott’s ground-breaking fantasy conjured a breathtaking vision of a dystopian Los Angeles in 2019, festooned with alluring holograms that flicker to the mournful strains of Vangelis’ electronic score. The eagerly-awaited sequel, directed by Denis Villeneuve, who was Oscar-nominated for the elliptical sci-fi thriller Arrival, honours the past and respectfully expands the nihilistic universe imagined by Philip K Dick in his novel, Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep? In Blade Runner 2049, androids dream of wooden horses and possessing the one thing that cannot be coded into their meticulously crafted bodies: a soul. “You’ve been getting along fine without one,” rebukes one human to her melancholic replicant underling.

Motifs from the earlier mission reverberate tantalisingly throughout this pristine follow-up, deftly stitching together two timelines without completely excluding audiences who are blissfully ignorant of the original picture.

Familiarity undoubtedly enriches the experience but also sows seeds of nostalgia-tinged disappointment.

For all its bravura production design and flawless special effects, Blade Runner 2049 doesn’t smack gobs with its invention.

The laconic hero is officer KD6-3.7 (Ryan Gosling), one of a new breed of grizzled blade runners who “retire” genetically engineered replicants who live among the weary population.

In the course of his unforgiving work, K uncovers a shocking secret. His quest for answers leads K to Deckard (Harrison Ford), who is reluctant to venture back into the automated world that almost destroyed him.

Two generations, scarred by loss, unite in the spirit of self-sacrifice.

Blade Runner 2049 is a beautifully crafted thriller that sustains a pedestrian pace, allowing us to second-guess K and even beat him to a couple of narrative punches.

Gosling gives a restrained performance while Ford eases back gruffly into a familiar role. And composers Benjamin Wallfisch and Hans Zimmer crank up the volume on their bombastic score.

Villeneuve’s muscular, brooding film does not fade quietly. DAMON SMITH