Los Angeles November 2019

As many of you are already aware of, Blade Runner (1982) is a major obsession of mine. Some months ago, I posted some thoughts on the film. Suffice it to say that Blade Runner was the first movie I ever watched in its original version and it had a profound effect on me. But if I bring it up today it’s because the movie is set in Los Angeles and the story takes place precisely in November 2019.

Acid rain does not soak our cities, but climate change has become quite a pressing issue. Massive animal extinction is not a reality (yet) but there are thousands of endangered species. We don’t have androids walking the streets. However, different forms of artificial intelligence (Siri, Cortana, Alexa) are now part of our lives. As a matter of fact, experts predict that sentient A.I.s will come to exist sometime around 2060: the so-called singularity. And we don't see lots of cars flying overhead, but some prototypes have actually been manufactured. In short, Blade Runner was not exactly off target. Nevertheless it is not the film's predictions that I care about but rather its dazzling production design, its gorgeous photography, the poignant performances and its hypnotic soundtrack. Part of the appeal of the film has to do with the issues it addresses. Blade Runner, which in many ways was ahead of its time, dealt with matters which are painfully relevant today: environmental decay, artificial intelligence, the seat of personal identity, the essence of humanity, the role of women in our society... and yet, there is a theme that permeates the whole story and elevates the film: death. Yes. Death. That pesky little problem we all face eventually.

Why am I talking about it now? Well, the fact that I turned fifty last week may have affected my criteria for choosing this particular video. The truth is the clock is also ticking for you. So let's celebrate Blade Runner by watching the clip below these lines. A little bit of context might be in order now.

Roy Batty, the blond character in the scene, is a replicant, i.e. an artificial being designed by multimillionaire genius Eldon Tyrell who deliberately programmed a four-year lifespan into his creatures so as to prevent them from getting out of control. Batty knows that his own death is only days away and decides to turn up at his maker’s house to demand a stop to his impending end. So, when he walks into Tyrell’s chambers and plainly bellows: “I want more time!” we can identify with the dying replicant. “What seems to be the problem?” asks Tyrell, coolly. “I want more life, father”. Who cannot relate to that? Isn’t it a universal desire? Aren’t we all soon going to find ourselves bargaining for some extra time? Food for thought.

Let’s now take a look at the language in the clip. The scene has interesting expressions. “To meet one’s maker” is a standard euphemism for dying and “the facts of life” refers to something that must be accepted and cannot be changed, however unpalatable. The scene also contains a truly memorable line:

A light that burns twice as bright burns half as long

and you have burned so very very brightly, Roy.

Isn't it beautiful? By the way it, is interesting to realize that many writers equate life with light. Yes. An unforgettable example springs to mind. In his memoirs (entitled Speak Memory), Vladimir Nabokov wrote: the cradle rocks above an abyss, and common sense tells us that our existence is but a brief crack of light between two eternities of darkness.

Anyhow, even though it is Roy Batty’s final soliloquy that has become part of cinema history (the moving forty-two words we know as “the tears-in-rain monologue”), today I encourage you to dwell on Tyrell’s very last words, for they are indeed wise: "Revel in your time!".

N.B. Writing assignments. C1.1 students: exam Task on page 15 of the textbook. C1.2 students: 280 words describing a city or a person that has undergone significant changes.

Fun fact: the original line in the scene above was slightly less elegant (I want more life, f***er). Clearly, the tone of the scene called for a loftier word choice. I trust you can guess the deleted term.