When Roy Batty felt death in his face, despair was in his steel-blue eyes. The great Game of life was too short for him. He was allowed to play for four years, until built-in age of his Replikantenkörpers. All that he had acquired at that time, all knowledge and all fighting spirit, did not help to postpone end. He had become a brooder. His last words conjured up memories of extra-secular beauty.
Since n, we sometimes see m in our dreams: gigantic ships, burning in front of Orion's shoulder. C-Beams, glistening in dark, near tanned houses gate. This name alone, tanned houses Tor! We just need him to whisper, very quietly to ourselves, imagination breaks into a new journey into space. So Roy Battys memories, unlike he feared, continued in all those who had been touched by Ridley Scott's film "Blade Runner" in past 35 years.
Wher that would be a consolation for Roy Batty? That in short time of his existence he mastered gift of storytelling, and thus a way to escape horror of finiteness, that everlasting extinguishing routine of all images, insights and experiences? At least one thing was clear since n: Who would dare to tell "Blade Runner" would have to take it with beauty of Roy Battys memories.
Surprisingly, first minutes of sequel "Blade Runner 2049" convey that thing is in safe hands. About soundtrack: full of thunder rumblings, electrostatic discharges and electronic whale chants, lamentable by distant, impenetrable gray smog layers halls. Here, Vangelis is summoned, composer of original. It was Hans Zimmer who found himself ready for this musical gesture of humility. Toger with a partner who is actually called Benjamin Wallfisch.Will memories be less valuable if you haven't experienced m yourself?
or slow approach. How important all se slow flights of old "Blade Runner" were! Actually, yes, routine rides, a police car on way from A to B, in normal police films one would cut that off. In "Blade Runner", however, it goes through air, se are every time meditations on state of world and of Mankind and ir metropolises, of course on autopilot, since dreaming begins already. And once again it becomes clear: self-flying car, please pay attention to Google, is really biggest uneingelöste promise of future. These new approaches now play exactly thirty years after old, still in greater Los Angeles, and you can see: Everything is still grayer, still diesiger, even more hopeless. Right at beginning it goes out to country, one looks over fields with endless tunnels of plastic foil, in which farmers wear space suits because y spray stuff, from which syntic protein worms grow up. All thanks to Wallace Corporation, last breadwinner of mankind. No plant and no real animal, as far as eye looks.
But above all you can immediately feel that re is time here. To inhale. To Exhale. To slow down. Real time to jam and digress. which had cinema thirty years ago, meanwhile, it has almost no one left, to Flattrig have become our eyelids, too nervous our twitching fast-forward thumb.I'm made of same old shit as anyone else! Harrison Ford is supposed to promote "Blade Runner 2049" in Berlin. Instead, he is philosophical about "Star Wars" and role of Han Solo. by Tanja rest more...
But not here. It is as if Canadian director Denis Villeneuve first hypnotized himself to wipe out any inner hustle and bustle from his system in order to make all dystopian widescreen paintings he wants to show here, which his production magician Dennis Gassner And his camera Grand Master Roger Deakins created him. If re is a dominant train that runs through Villeneuve's all-round career, from "prisoners" to "Sicario" to "arrival," it is unwavering tranquillity of an artist who completely dares his ideas and his contenders. This trust expands on almost trance-like two centre hours-fought and killed in between.