Saturday, October 14, 2017

The Heart of an Android: The Internal Theme of Blade Runner 2049

           I haven’t been able to stop thinking about Blade Runner since I saw it last. I want to see it, three maybe four more times before it leaves theater. This kind of movie that leaves me thinking through all it has to say about the world doesn’t come around very often. While thinking through this film on one of my drives home from work, I think I found something really special buried within the hard outer shell of Blade Runner 2049.
Much like the original Blade Runner, this film deals with the question, “what does it mean to be human?” There’s a lot of different ways this movie attempts to answer this question. Maybe it’s the concept of having a soul, or maybe it’s the ability to have offspring. Maybe that is what the film is trying to get at, that in order to be human we procreate, or have a soul. But while that maybe this film’s answer to its own question, it doesn’t satisfy my desire for a deeper answer to such a profound question.
Before I go on, I implore you to go watch this movie, then come back and read what I have to say. There are spoilers aplenty ahead.
So here it is, here is the answer Blade Runner 2049 gives to its big and overbearing question.
Love.
That’s right, and not just any love, sacrificial love.
Cheesy, yes. But don’t click out of the article yet, hear me out. I think there’s a compelling case here that I’m going to attempt to lay out for you.
The movie operates around three key relationships, or lack thereof: K and Joi, K and Deckard, and Deckard and his daughter.
One of the aspects of this film that I found most compelling was K and Joi’s relationship. Joi is essentially a holographic girlfriend. Much like K and the rest of the replicant’s we aren’t necessarily sure how she works. We know she’s a projector, but there’s some degree of facial, expression mapping. She scrolls through dresses and gauges K’s reaction accordingly. All the way through her arc I remember thinking to myself how interesting this dynamic of the degrees of artificiality is. But after getting home and thinking through it some more, the more I realize that that relationship is really messed up. Essentially the slave has a slave.
But then we get this beautiful moment, when K downloads her into the emanator and takes her outside for the first time. K walks out onto the roof while it’s pouring rain, and Joi follows suit. As the rain falls through her holographic image, she pauses, and watches her hand and she adjusts to the rain, and essentially mapping it to her skin. This moment is key, Joi is essentially adjusting to her new reality. Who she is has inherently changed and the movie takes time to show this. We’ll come back to this later.
Then we get this key moment when Luv steps on the imitator and essentially kills Joi. The music swells and she says “I love y….” And dies. I find people’s reaction to this fascinating. Most people I talked too, didn’t feel much at all. Even me, only felt a tinge of sadness during this moment. None of the audience views this relationship as having real love. Even K, in the back of his mind, knows it too. Yet he desperately wants it to be true.
One of the questions of the movie is K trying to figure out what it really means to be human. I believe he is trying to answer that question through Joi. Everything around him is making him aware he’s not human. His boss, his coworkers, his housemates. Once he gets home, it’s his opportunity to play house essentially. He comes home to something he can control, to some sense of what he feels like is normal. That’s essentially K and Joi’s relationship.
This brings us to the next key moment of the film, when K believes that he is the kid he’s been looking for. Think about how world crushing that would be. To believe that you were essentially a robot your entire existence, and then suddenly be told that you were human? You had a mother and father? Think about how soul crushing that would be.
And again, the movie pauses and gives us a moment to reflect on this. K stands out in the snow, holds out his hand, and watches the snowflakes softly land on his hand. A callback to Joi’s moment earlier in the film, this is K adjusting to his new reality. This reality that he believes makes him human.
Then we get K and Deckard’s relationship. Here I think is where he learns what it truly means to be human. At this point, K still believes he is Deckard’s son, so he confronts him about leaving. He’s hostile about it, as anyone would be. Deckard finally breaks and says to K, “Sometimes to love someone, you have to be a stranger.”
In order for his child to have a life, Deckard had to give up his relationship with his child. To protect his child, he couldn’t ever speak to her. He couldn’t watch her grow up. His child would never know who he was, and he did that out of love. He sacrificed whatever desire he had at being a father, for the life of his child.
The end of the film, K takes Deckard to see his daughter. They both exit his vehicle and walk to the steps, covered in snow. Deckard asks if he’s alright, K nods, and Deckard leaves him to go inside.
Once again, the movie pauses. K slowly sits on the steps holds his hand out and watches the snowflakes land on his hand. Here I think he realizes what true love really is. He sacrificed his life for Deckard and his daughter. All he wanted all along was to be loved. Every billboard we see of Joi tells us two things, “Everything you want to see and hear.” Throughout the film, she tells him how happy she is with him and that she loves him. He longs for it, even if he knows that relationship isn’t real.
K’s new reality is that he now knows that true love means sacrifice.
Finally Deckard walks into the building, only to find his daughter holding out her hand in the middle of a snowstorm. The movie gives us a close up shot of her hand before she turns to him and gives the last line of film.
“Isn’t it beautiful?”

Sunday, September 3, 2017

Why I'm tired all the time. (i.e. my struggle with depression)


I'd like to start by acknowledging the fact that I'm prone to the dramatic.

Anyone who knows me will tell you I'm very hyperbolic.

I exaggerate all the time and I'm prone to romanticize things.



That being said.

I don't think I'm doing so here.



I'm going to try and spell out sort of what I deal with on a day to day basis.

I've been wanting to write about this for a long time now but never felt like I could put it into words.




You know that feeling when you try to get out of bed,

but you were up later than you should have,

and you're waking up way earlier than you should be.

How you have to gather that energy and strength to roll out of bed and start your day?


Just imagine that feeling and apply it to every choice or decision I have to make.


Every time I have to do something it's the same deal.

I'd much rather sit where I was.

Most likely curled up in a blanket. 

Hopefully curled up in my bed.

And I'd rather do that than anything else. 


I'm constantly having to exert more energy than is necessary to do simple tasks.


I feel like I do most things purely out of survival.

If it's going to affect me in a very negative way, I can muster the energy to get it done.
But if it doesn't require my immediate attention, and I'm not going to suffer in the now, it's probably not gonna get done.
This is why the handle on the trunk of my car has been broken for well over a year, even though I bought the part.



My brain's a dark place.
Left alone and I freak myself out.

So I'm constantly distracting myself.


I also feel like that's a big reason why I love film and media in general.

For two hours I can exist outside of myself.

My brain is fully occupied with the world the movie presents.

I get to leave my negative head, and go live elsewhere.


I also realized why this is so dangerous.

The only thing that makes this better is taking charge of it.

Doing better with schedules. 

Thinking about the future instead of the now.


But that requires energy.

Energy that I don't have.

Energy that I already covet.



And after reading this over and over again, I think it's time I go back to counseling.
I don't think this is right, and I don't think this is how it should be.
and that's the most positive way I can think to end this.