In a bleak and not too distant future, the Blade Runner unit of the
LAPD is charged with tracking down and “retiring” rogue replicants, or highly intelligent
human cyborgs produced by an ignominious global corporation. When six of these
androids escape from their transport and seek refuge in the city, tainted
detective Richard Deckard (Harrison Ford) is assigned to the deadly case, never
suspecting he’d fall for one their own (Sean Young) he meets along the trail. Bearing
just a passing resemblance to Philip K. Dick’s novel Do Androids Dream of
Electric Sheep?, Ridley Scott’s Blade
Runner is a triumph in set design and visuals, which alone justify the
price of admission, even if the plot is uninvolving, the romantic subplot doesn’t
bear much weight, and the film is as cold and lifeless as one of its cyborgs. The
Ford performance is unlikable, awkward, and amateur, probably by design, and Rutger
Hauer is frighteningly electric. Following the initial studio cut, which
features putrid, dumbed down Phillip Marlowe like narration, the film went
through several subsequentcuts, varying in different degrees, Scott’s final cut
in 2007 probably being the most worthy of your time.
*** out of ****
