'Blade Runner 2049' is up to the impossible task of following 'Blade Runner'

Will we get a sequel to this with an old Ryan Gosling in our 2049?

How do you follow up a movie like Blade Runner?

Ridley Scott's 1982 film, starring Harrison Ford as a burned-out cop (a blade runner) in a dystopian future Los Angeles tasked with hunting a group of rogue synthetic humans (known as replicants), was and remains such a singular, self-contained work. Between a production design that mixes the "used future" aesthetic of such movies as Star Wars and Scott's own Alien with the light-and-shadow dynamic of film noir, an involving soundscape that seamlessly combines a moody, synth-based score by Vangelis with in-movie audio, and a screenplay that explores themes--the meaning of humanity, the role of technology--that have only become more relevant over time...

...between all of this, Blade Runner earned a status and legacy that transcended its initial lukewarm reception and placed it among the most influential films of all time, not just of the sci-fi genre. Thus, it's not simply necessary to ask how one follows up Blade Runner, but also, why? What is left of what the original created to explore?

These were the difficult questions set before director Denis Villeneuve, staying in sci-fi after 2016's excellent Arrival, as well as screenwriters Hampton Fancher (who co-wrote the original screenplay) and Michael Green, and, for that matter, composers Hans Zimmer and Benjamin Walfisch, taking over soundtrack duties from Vangelis. And Blade Runner 2049 is their formidable answer. Returning to the world of the original Blade Runner 30 years after the events of the first film, Blade Runner 2049 justifies its existence by expanding its palette--perhaps a little too much.

Blade Runner 2049 centers on K (Ryan Gosling), an unambiguous replicant, unlike Harrison Ford's ambiguously human (?) Rick Deckard from the first movie. Like Deckard, though, K is a blade runner, a cop trained to hunt rogue replicants. One such "retirement" (the Blade Runner universe's term for executing a replicant) leaves him an intriguing clue that sets him on an investigation deep into his world, its past, and, ultimately, himself. Gosling is excellent in this role, just sympathetic and relateable enough to earn viewer investment, but also quiet and dutiful enough to remind us that he is not fully human and lacks true free will.

"Real human being/and a real hero..."

Through K's eyes, we see how dramatically the world of Blade Runner has expanded. The original film took place almost entirely within the claustrophobic, gloomy confines of its dark, neon-lit future Los Angeles. We spend plenty of time in that environment, dutifully recreated, in Blade Runner 2049. But from the opening scene to the final reel, Villeneuve (with help from cinematographer Roger Deakins) fills the screen with new ways of looking at what we think we have already seen, new angles and cuts, and new places. We see vast tracts of synthetic farmland, miles of garbage heaps, the orange, irradiated ruins of Las Vegas, the darkness of the ocean, and, in a striking Blade Runner first, the pure whiteness of snow. And it's all set to a soundtrack by Zimmer and Walfischer that draws from its predecessor while creating something new and suitably atmospheric in its own right. All of these places exist as worlds unto themselves without ever seeming out of place in the Blade Runner universe, filling in gaps implied or left by the first movie.

Modern sequels often receive criticism for hewing too closely to their predecessors. And while Blade Runner 2049 does depend heavily on its predecessor, often visually quoting or referring back to scenes, sounds, themes, and characters from it (yes, Harrison Ford returns as Deckard), this sequel defeats that critique. And it does so largely on the strength of its world-building and a faithfulness to the thematic spirit of the original that does not simply consist of (ahem) replication.

Harrison Ford, continuing his farewell tour of his most famous movie roles. 

Yet there is one defect in Blade Runner 2049: It is, in some senses, too much. The worldbuilding is great, and contributes to the film's immersive atmosphere, but can feel a bit sprawling at times. There are many talented actors in the film, in addition to Gosling and Ford, including Robin Wright, Jared Leto, and Dave Bautista. But some of them get lost in the extensive proceedings. Jared Leto's enigmatic tycoon Niander Wallace, in particular, seems like a rushed attempt to construct a profound-sounding, sinister villain. His more straightforward but equally devious analogue in Blade Runner, Eldon Tyrell, is far more compelling. And his replicant enforcer, Luv (Sylvia Hoeks) is a much more intriguing and dynamic antagonist. Despite this large and talented cast, moreover, no character, hero or villain, so engages the viewer, or raises such philosophically intriguing questions, as Rutger Hauer's Roy Batty, the replicant who wanted nothing more than to defy the death sentence foisted upon him by his creator, does in Blade Runner.

Pictured: Roy Batty (Rutger Hauer), aka Sir Not-Appearing-In-This-Film

Finally, consider its sheer length: At 163 minutes, it is nearly an hour longer than any cut of Blade Runner. Most of this additional runtime allows the story to proceed at a more relaxed, organic pace. But some of it feels like catering to a certain self-indulgence, perhaps in the belief that that was part of what made Blade Runner so special. Maybe it was, in part. But creative freedom is a tool, and, like any part of the creative process, derives its utility from how it is used. One gets the sense, from the sheer much-ness of Blade Runner 2049, that it is the product of years, if not decades, of pent-up ideas by its creators, who threw as much into the movie as they could think of.

But too much of a good thing is an easily forgivable defect. Blade Runner 2049 may be long, and it may be overstuffed. Yet by the end--and, especially, at the end, a series of scenes that certainly equals its predecessor's denouement--of its runtime, one is left not impatient for all that has occurred, but impassioned for more. Based on how this movie is doing commercially--and how it was constructed artistically--that is not likely to happen. Nor should it. For we can be happy enough to have a sequel that feels both worthy enough of the original to feel like it takes place in the same world and carries forward the same spirit and themes, and distinct enough to justify its existence. And just as the replicants of the Blade Runner universe would be happy to have their existences justified, so should we be happy that Blade Runner 2049 justified its own.