I was a bit nervous about seeing Blade Runner 2049, as I’m so keen on the original film. I fell for it in the 1980s, when its combination of a mysteriously Asiatic dystopian Los Angeles and the archly stylised costumes seemed so clever. There were hints at the calamity which must have brought the world to this mysterious twilight pass, but nothing was ever explained. I loved its sense of enigma. It was also one of the few films of the time with an interesting plot which was well thought out and extremely romantic. And all the technology which Deckard (our hero) uses to track his quarry, which seemed outlandish and impossible at the time, is now easily available via the iPhone in your hand.
So the sequel had a lot to live up to, but by casting Ryan Gosling, a safe pair of hands if ever there was one, the filmmakers showed they were on the ball again. I won’t go into the plot, because it’s fiendishly twisty, but the good news is that there is one and, like the first Bladerunner, it will make you ponder all kinds of questions about identity and humanity long after you’ve left the cinema.
I felt it was a shame that Rachel didn’t make a comeback, but I put that down to Hollywood’s anxiety about women of a certain age. They had no qualms about dragging Harrison Ford out of a cupboard, with a rolling sailor’s gate from doing one too many action movies.
There were many stunning scenes, the music was eerie, and I found myself guessing which bits of bizarre space-age kit from the film will become commonplace in the next few decades. Flying cars? Maybe. If so, I hope I get a nice Ryan Gosling to drive me.