There's a fan edit out there that runs at 2-08..it includes the dialogue, variations,missing bits etc. It's actually the best of all , if you want a comprehensible version of the story (which obviously was filmed and then subsequently chopped up )
The somewhat lacklustre voice-over narration notwithstanding, this is a case where I like that there are multiple versions of the film. As with Dick's fiction, I find questions more interesting than answers. The question isn't whether Deckard is an android or not so much as how human is he. What is human? That's the basis of much of Dick's work and I think the film captures his essence, and adds to it in visuals and in great, big characters. I never craved for a sequel. Watching the film again is like having a sequel in itself, because it has enough layers.
The narration is important. it explains a lot of things that just not clear in the later version if you had never seen the original. The unicorn scene is awful. Ridley Scott has made some awful decisions (and films) over the past 20 years or so.
Forgot about the other cuts; and I think the international cut was the best. I hate the horse**** that Deckard was a replicant. He's not in the book, so if Phil says he's real, he's real.
IDK the difference between theatrical, cable and director's cut.. and don't remember what version I watched. I love both the first one and the sequel. Would be hard for me to pick one over the other. Both are really so beautiful
People complaining about the unicorn dream just can't figure out somehow that the whole point of it is too show that Deckard's memories and dreams were created for him. Hence the origami unicorn left at the apartment by Gaff.
I think people understand well enough. The real point of the scene goes beyond just recognition, however. We embark on a physical and emotional journey with Deckard that starts off as a simple good-versus-evil, man-versus-robot scenario and ends up something much more morally ambiguous. As each of the replicants is dispatched, we become more sympathetic to their desire for life, culminating in Roy’s moving “tears in the rain” speech. But, ultimately, we accept that they must die, if we are to preserve humanity as we know it. Then, when the idea is posited, via the origami unicorn, that Deckard himself may be a replicant, we begin to look within ourselves and question the nature of humanity itself. What, exactly, does it mean to be human, if those traits that we hold highest (complex emotions: love, dignity, a longing for meaning in our lives) can be reproduced so precisely as to negate their very importance in man himself? “More human than human,” as Tyrell puts it. It strikes at the very heart of man’s condition, which is what all the best art down the centuries has strived to achieve. It is a brilliant conceit, just ambiguous enough to remain interesting and to provoke debate. Rachael expresses frustration with her piano playing. She remembers taking lessons, but doesn’t know if it is her making the music or Tyrell’s niece. “You play beautifully,” Deckard tells her. It is another poignant moment, as we conclude that it doesn’t really matter who is playing when the human and the replicant both share the same sense memory; both are capable of creating beauty. Of course, not everyone likes ambiguity in cinema. Many prefer all the plot lines to be tied up neatly with a bow and an (the) explanation handed to them on a silver platter. But life tends to be messier than that, and it is the very nature and meaning of life that Blade Runner takes as its main theme. A shared memory, or shared dream, may simply point to the fact that replicants got their memories and dreams from humans in the first place, and often these things are not unique. The unicorn sequence plays with this idea, forcing us to ask deeper questions of ourselves, and, as such, it is the key to understanding the film. The answer is contained within the question; just by asking the question do we begin to reveal what it means to be human.
Could somebody summarize the different versions? I'm confused. Back in high school days, I think, I watched it for the first time, and it was the narration version. Years later, I saw it again without the narration. I'm not an expert on the film, but I loved both of these versions.
Blade Runner is a strange one. It's like a costume drama in the sense that there's nothing of importance happening that requires the setting it's taking place in. To me, the visually amazing environment the movie creates, loses its power because its technical execution suggests a depth of thought that I just can't seem to find. And I've been looking hard: the movie has pretty much nothing to say. This criticism reminds me of discussions I've had about Barry Lyndon. Yet I maintain the opinion, this film's story and thoughts are only made possible by its external surroundings. Blade Runner is more Star Wars than 2001. That's cool but it alienates me that it looks and tries to feel like the latter.
For me, it’s the complete opposite. Before going any further, I would like to point out that I am in no way a fanboy of this film, or a science fiction fan in particular. I am, however, a keen cinephile, and I find a great deal of thematic depth in the world the Blade Runner plot inhabits. The Los Angeles of 2019 depicted in the film is one that is both futuristic and in a state of serious physical decay. It rains constantly, indicating that some sort of environmental disaster (perhaps global warming) has detrimentally affected the climate of Southern California. Sunlight is in short supply, unless it is seen streaming through window blinds — a visual nod to film noir. Traffic, at least at ground level, is dreadful. Trash is everywhere, as are homeless street people. It is a polarised world of the very rich and the desperately poor. And L.A. seems to have been overtaken by Japanese culture, from the street markets to the huge neon advertising hoardings, which are peopled with Japanese models. The well-heeled ‘haves’ live a decadent life that evokes Weimar-era Berlin, all extravagant costumes and cocktail bars, while the world outside goes to hell in a hand basket. But these humans seem emotionally disconnected — more so than the replicants. The only hope lies in the possible deceit of the off-world colonies, which echoes the promise the New World offered to those looking to escape the drudgery of the industrial revolution in 19th century Europe. It is a dystopian world, where the police buzz outside buildings, peeking into windows. Legal rights appear diminished. But the real malevolent presence is not the law, but huge, faceless corporate conglomerates, such as the Tyrell organisation. Genetic engineering has blurred the lines of reality, as well as right and wrong. Much of the world predicted in Blade Runner has come to pass, or is in the process of doing so. Within this rich world is placed a strong, deceptively simple, story that has overtones of Classical Greek tragedy, Nietzschean philosophy, and Christian symbolism, all within a pulpy, neo-noir framework. High and low art combined in a complete, believable environment that seems more prescient as each year passes.
I think people over-estimate the narration-less versions, because they've already seen the original and are familiar with the story. I watched one of the narration-less versions with a friend. His son, who hadn't seen the film, had to ask what was going on. And IMO, making Dekkard a replicant reduces his philosophical journey to a cheap hack surprise ending. The sequel was respectful but had little else to recommend it. I've watched it twice and couldn't name a single character.
That's what I mean: the film makes you think it's about all those things by kind of mentioning them and by its visual 'heavyness' but there isn't really any form of discourse about them. I just don't think it's a very thoughtful movie. Scott's personal twist of making Dekkard a replicant himself seems practically a confession to that, IMO. BR should be a movie I absolutely love. I just can't.
Touching on those themes is fine, IMO. I don’t need Scott to give me his world view. This is one of those films that works on multiple levels. If you just want to enjoy it as a science fiction flick then you can. If you want to explore the wider social implications, or the influences, then the discussion between the filmmaker and the audience (not the characters) starts when the credits roll.
It'd be interesting to see how well the movie works for people who never saw it with narration. While we can call it superfluous or problematic, you're probably right that it does explain potentially confusing concepts. Or maybe it doesn't. Since my first 10 years of screenings included the narration, I have no idea how the narration-free version plays in a vacuum since I have that information in my head. Crud, I still "hear" the narration when I watch other versions! It's like a record with a skip that you played a lot - you still "hear" that skip even when it's not there!
I was one of the sound designer/editors on “The Final Cut” and that is of course the answer. Weird that it wasn’t included. Its the film given the time and money that Ridley always wanted to make. Every inch story-wise, visually and sonically was gone over with a fine tooth comb. I did 9 (10? Can’t remember) Ridley Scott films including a couple of personal favorites “Gladiator” and “Black Hawk Down” but the opportunity to work on “Blade Runner” was the biggest deal for me. “The Final Cut” by a country mile.
In the theatrical release I always took it that the origami unicorn left by Gaff at Deckards place was to let him know he'd been by and (being a blade runner himself) decided to let her live. Guess I was wrong again! The unicorn dream scene from later versions (which I'm not a fan of) lean towards him possibly questioning himself. 1982 version my preferred.
