I’ve seen things you people wouldn’t believe
“Blade Runner taught me that the American public tends to favor a high-fiber diet. Which infers that the American system is one containing a certain degree of optimism. I, on the other hand, tend to be a bit darker. To look to the dark side. Not because I’m a manic-depressive, but because I find darkness interesting. Particularly in its more unusual aspects. I’m sure this has something to do with my own heritage. I am a Celt, after all. And the Celts are traditionally fascinated by melancholia.”
Ridley Scott on Blade Runner
In the northeast of England there is an unassuming landmark - something between a bay and a river mouth. situated on each side of the divide are two towns - Redcar and Hartlepool, staring at each other across the cold waters. It’s an industrialized region, and the sky is permanently grey with emissions from the factories in the area. The North Sea air cuts through the thickest jackets, and the rain chills to the bone. This combination results in an unusual temperament among the local populace - a grim countenance that reflects the environment, but also a mischievously black sense of humour. On the surface this can be classified as a coping mechanism, but beneath this notion, there is something else.
It’s something that transcends cultural barriers.
It’s unaffected by the limitations of time.
It’s something that captures what it is to be human.
As grey and bleak as the area is (third poorest region in Northern Europe), the town contains a secret. Something mysterious which elevates it beyond its dreary appearance and scant opportunities.
This secret has had such a monumental impact on film history, that at the time of writing (forty years later), it continues to hum across the halls of time.
“God, this is beautiful”
Standing on the coastline of Hartlepool at night and looking across the bay towards Redcar, the flames from the industrial buildings burn in the rain-soaked darkness.
Back in the mid twentieth century, for the local populace this was a depressing sight. It was a permanent reminder of the few opportunities available: fishing, or factory work in a cold, grey northern town. A far cry from the exotic locales seen in Hollywood cinema, rather, it was more akin to a dystopian nightmare – dark, industrial and grim.
As bleak as the view appeared, there was a young man who studied at the local college of art. Like others, the view was familiar to him, seeing it daily on his trips into the town from his home nearby.
But it’s here that a key point must be highlighted. While others saw darkness, this young art student saw something that other people wouldn’t believe:
“There's a walk from Redcar into Hartlepool ... I'd cross a bridge at night, and walk above the steel works. So that's probably where the opening of Blade Runner comes from. It always seemed to be rather gloomy and raining, and I'd just think "God, this is beautiful." You can find beauty in everything, and so I think I found the beauty in that darkness.”
Ridley Scott talking about Bladerunner: Channel 4’s 100 Greatest films (2001)
Ridley Scott took this vista, and transformed it into the opening scene of Bladerunner, one of the most spectacular, ugly, beautiful, stunning, frightening and impactful opening shots in film history.
Nothing else before or since has managed to capture such a powerful range of emotions within a single image. No matter how many times that it is seen, the brief pause between the Los Angeles 2019 and the opening reveal of the city evokes excitement, dread, melancholy and ‘Kaukokaipu’.
This emotional response demands reflection. There’s something within Bladerunner, which goes beyond filmmaking, and operates on a much deeper level.
But what is it?
Encyclopedias can be filled with available Bladerunner analysis, therefore the idea of contributing another article on the film borders on indulgence at best and redundancy at worst. However, like Ridley Scott seeing something beautiful in the darkness, this analysis aims to look at the film from an angle never before perceived.
In this analytical series the topics will include:
I want more life fucker - How a death gave birth to Blade Runner
Time… enough - Blade Runner existed at the start of our species
All those moments will be lost in time like tears in rain - All of humanity, crystallized into a moment
“If only you could see what I’ve seen with your eyes”
What follows is an extended More Mountains analysis on Blade Runner, in a way which has never been done before.
Let’s begin.