“Replicants are like any other machine. They’re either a benefit or a problem. If they’re a benefit, then it’s not my problem.”

The original Blade Runner, like a plethora of classic works of art, was welcomed with mixed reviews upon initial release. Numerous critics declared that it was visually stunning but lacking in content and thematic depth with some deriding it as inevitably assimilating itself with other generic science fiction works of the 80s.

Other critics found the thematic concepts, the narrative, and character as powerful as the visuals proclaiming that it wouldstand the test of time. The film was slowly unraveled and unthreaded, revealing immense depth cleverly folded and intertwined into a singular, self-contained masterpiece.

In modernity, the conversation surrounding cinema harkens back to Blade Runner as one of the most influential and masterful science fiction films of all cinematic history. In my opinion, it’s one of the greatest films in all cinematic history regardless of genre placement.

Despite the general consensus of Blade Runner 2049 concluding that it’s as good as or superior to the original, I’m not playing the devil’s advocate but being completely honest that upon first impressions, the original Blade Runner is the superior film to me.

That being said, it is with great pleasure to inform you that Blade Runner 2049 is most definitely a worthy successor, and, honestly, unless a sequel absolutely undermines the purpose of a masterful film or taps into something greater than anything the predecessor tapped into, comparing the two films is a counterproductive exercise.

These are simply my initial impressions of the sequel, but considering its story develops into a narrative deeply intertwined with the original film’s narrative, it’s difficult not to make a few comparison. Simply assume that my opinions of technical aspects such as the cinematography, and editing are masterful, and my opinions of the performances, direction, music, and sound are of the same caliber.

How does Officer K’s character perform? It’s most definitely in opposition to our relationship with Deckard in the original film. Although there is much speculation as to whether or not Deckard is a human or a replicant, his role in the film and universe is very human, whereas Officer K is presented as a replicant from the opening minutes of the film, and his cold exterior, the inhabitant’s of his universe’s treatment of him, and the thoughts and dilemmas that he deals with derive from his knowledge of his existence as a replicant.

There’s a psychological development occurring in his head, and how this conflicts with his ability to exist on Earth in 2049 presents the often-explored theme of free-thinking. There is a post-trauma baseline test that he is subjected to that mimics the Voight-Kampff test of the original.

Whereas the Voight-Kampf detects whether a humanoid is human or replicant, the Post-Trauma Baseline Test analyzes whether a replicant is exhibiting controversial thoughts. As Officer K finally encounters an event that initiates a development of genuine humanity within him, the test detects controversial thoughts (a concept briefly touched on in a recent episode of Rick and Morty).

K’s relationship with Joi, an artificial intelligence designed and consumed by citizens who seek intimacy in a precise manner that they desire, is thoroughly provocative.

Many might consider such a chapter in a story to be more pathetic and depressing than beautiful because of K’s inability to develop a relationship with a real human being, but what the viewer fails to consider is that K sees in Joi what he wishes other people can see in him.

Just like Joi, K is also artificial and sympathizes with any self-aware consciousness because of his culture’s perception of him. Joi announces that she desires to be “real” for him. He replies,

“You are real enough for me.”

And, in his love and devotion to Joi, we recognize that he wants her to exhibit free-thinking and expression that his culture denies him. “I’m so happy when I’m with you,” remarks Joi. “You don’t have to say that,” replies Officer K without enough expression to persuade her of either train of thought.

Before holographically embracing K, she denotes, “I know.”

The power and perplexity of the sequel are undeniable and commendable, but with regards to subtlety, the director seems to prioritize the cerebral elements of the film over the power of a complex narrative to invest the viewer in the story.

When many chapters of the plot cultivate near the end, the director feels the requirement of redirecting our eyes to previous scenes for the second time. At times, the sequel firmly understands subtlety, such as the brief mention of a soul.

“I’ve never retired something that was born…to be born…means you have a soul, I guess.”

Undeniably, this suggests the exploration of a theme that many viewers might have considered to consider of the original which is the concept of a soul. Both films exhibit biblical echoes, and the concept of a soul echoes throughout all spiritual perspectives, so to consider the replicant as a spiritual entity is solidified with this brief suggestion.

This quote understands subtlety at the same capacity that the original does, but, at other times, the lack of subtlety undermines some implications of the original. With regards to biblical echoes, the miraculous birth of a replicant obviously mimics the concept of miraculous birth in ancient Rome such as Jesus of Nazareth and Apollonius of Tyana.

As challenging as the birth of a replicant, and how this plot device creates hope in a heartless world and an unpleasant narrative, this historical allusion was slightly too obvious for me (I’ve heard the recent mother! by Darren Aronofsky makes the same mistake, but I have not seen it).

Also, there is a scene in which a character literally quotes when discussing the humanity of the replicants, “…more human than human.” The finiteness of the six replicants of the original with their four-year lifespan obviously implies this, and Batty’s iconic final quote creates this question and provides an ambiguous answer in the viewer. Why thematically spoil such a brilliantly subtle question?

“All these moments will be lost in time like tears in rain.”

I don’t believe the villains as conventional antagonists were ever crucial to the original film, so the expectation of villains as being equal in caliber to the primary characters is hard of concern, but I’ll briefly touch on Wallace and Luv.

Wallace, as portrayed by Jared Leto, is non-subtly a representation of a God, or perhaps just an eccentric person with a God complex.

Luv is undeniably an intimidating villain, and in my opinion, is a much superior villain than Wallace, but what her character represents is a third faction that the original film didn’t present which is an intriguing direction.

Within the original film, there were humans, and there were replicants who wanted to be human. Within the sequel, there are humans, there are replicants who wants to be human, and there are replicants who want to be replicants, which not only inquires what it truly means to be human, but also what it means to be a replicant. Very powerful choice.

Ultimately, I implore you to watch this film as soon as possible. I’ll definitely view it for many years to come, and although it isn’t very sweet or pleasant, it exhibits the same power and intellectual challenge that the original provided many years ago.