Blade Runner 2049: Exploring Identity, Reproduction, and a Dystopian Education System
Denis Villeneuve's Blade Runner 2049, a sequel to Ridley Scott's Blade Runner, plunges viewers into a dystopian future where bioengineered humans, known as replicants, are subjugated. The film delves into the complex relationship between humans and artificial intelligence, highlighting the essence of humanity in biological reproduction. Blade Runner 2049 distinguishes itself from other science fiction films by emphasizing the importance of biological reproduction as a defining aspect of human nature and identity. The film explores themes of identity, memory, and the search for meaning in a world grappling with ecological degradation, automation, and vast inequalities.
The Centrality of Reproduction and Identity
In the world of Blade Runner 2049, the inability of replicants to reproduce becomes a crucial distinction between them and humans. The "miracle" of birth is presented as a quintessential feature that shapes human identity. This theme is embodied by the protagonist, Officer K (Ryan Gosling), a replicant detective tasked with hunting down rogue replicants. K's quest for identity and selfhood is central to the narrative.
The film's plot is driven by the discovery of Rachel's bones (Sean Young), the love interest from the original Blade Runner. Forensic analysis reveals that Rachel, a special replicant, died in childbirth, challenging the established notion that replicants cannot reproduce. This revelation sparks a search for knowledge and a quest for personal identity.
Lieutenant Joshi (Robin Wright), K's human superior, voices the disruptive potential of replicant reproduction, exclaiming, "This is not possible!" The discovery of a date carved into a tree at the protein farm where Rachel's remains were found further complicates K's understanding of his own identity. The date reminds him of a childhood toy, a wooden horse, bearing the same date. This discovery raises the question of whether K could be the lost child whose birth the tree marks.
Niander Wallace and the Ambition for Replication
Niander Wallace (Jared Leto), the head of the Wallace Corporation (makers of replicants), seeks to unlock the secret of replicant reproduction to expand interstellar colonization. Wallace, portrayed as a blind man who "sees" through a prosthetic system of hovering "eyes," embodies a Yahweh-like figure who breathes life into inanimate matter. His ambition to populate the stars hinges on the prospect of self-replicating replicants, presenting a significant business opportunity.
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Wallace's character quotes Genesis, "And God remembered Rachel, heeded her, and opened her womb," while contemplating Rachel's skull. This reference highlights the centrality of biblical and biological reproduction in the film, distinguishing it from the original and other science fiction productions focused on artificial intelligence.
Generational Themes and the Ruins of the Past
Blade Runner 2049 explores generational themes, with the narrative focusing on the search for the "miracle" child (or children) born to the original film's main characters. The film contrasts the older generation with the younger generation, portraying the former as experienced but losing autonomy, while the latter is vibrant but inexperienced.
The film is set in a dystopian Los Angeles, marked by environmental crises, technological advancements, and societal inequalities. The landscape is filled with ruins, reflecting a fallen world. The film's literary references, drawn from the "inherited wreck of time," further emphasize the theme of rummaging through the ruins of the past.
Technology and its Implications
Blade Runner 2049 presents a blend of past and future technologies. Police air cars ("spinners") retain their original design, while new technologies, such as ceiling-mounted, voice-activated drones, are introduced. The film explores the implications of advanced technology, including virtual sexuality and data storage through "memory bearings."
The film also touches on contemporary concerns, such as climate change, slavery, racism, and labor exploitation. Rising sea levels, snow falling in Southern California, and the abandonment of Las Vegas highlight the environmental and societal challenges of the future.
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The Nature of Replicants and the Question of Humanity
The film raises questions about the nature of replicants and the definition of humanity. Replicants are portrayed as beings capable of thinking and feeling, blurring the line between human and artificial intelligence. The film explores the ethical implications of creating and subjugating replicants, particularly in the context of slavery and labor exploitation.
Angelica Lim, a professor of computing science, discusses the possibility of building robots that resemble replicants. She notes that while advancements in robotics have made it possible to create realistic-looking androids, the real challenge lies in developing AI that can understand and express emotions.
Terry Johnson, a professor of bioengineering, raises the question of whether replicants can be programmed to obey. He suggests that obedience is a complex concept and may be more related to psychological testing than genetic engineering. He also discusses the possibility of programming the lifespan of an organism, although he acknowledges that current scientific knowledge does not allow for this.
Philosophical Explorations
Blade Runner 2049 delves into philosophical questions about identity, memory, and the nature of reality. The film explores the concept of implanted memories and their impact on personal identity. It raises questions about what distinguishes an authentically "human" person and how shared memories contribute to the constitution of personal identities.
The film also examines the implications of techno-human enhancement and the development of artificial economics. It explores the potential for artificial beings to participate in genuinely romantic relationships and the ethical considerations of creating entities to which humans may become emotionally attached.
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Archaeology of a Dystopian Future
The film presents a compelling vision of a future shaped by memory, material culture, and the interaction between characters and objects. The film is about memory and being remembered, a feat accomplished through materials, through things, and through how the characters interact with them. The appearance and usage of things are supplemented by action: forensic and archival research, radiation testing, and off-screen excavation.
The film recycles symbols from the original, creating a meta filmgoing experience where the viewer at times is watching both movies at once. In the interest of simplicity, I will review the archaeology of Blade Runner: 2049 in the order in which things appear as the film plays.
Blade Runner: 2049 opens on a tight shot of the eye of replicant blade runner “K” of the LAPD. Eyes feature heavily in both films, and become artifacts in each as proof of personal identity. We know from the original film that eyes are manufactured, bioengineered for both replicants as well as humans who desire body modification, a post-human trait. One minute into the film, ideas are already in play about accuracy and authenticity, especially when considering the reproduction of original things. Late in the film, original blade runner Rick Deckard meets a reproduction of his wife Rachael, but notes that his wife’s eyes were green. The reproduction’s are brown. While the replicant conveys authenticity, it is not 100% accurate. Archaeologists face this question when completing digital reconstructions of ancient structures. Where do we draw the line between authentic and accurate, and can something convey the feeling of authenticity without being completely faithful to the original?
K’s first mission takes him to a farm run by bookish replicant Sapper Morton. The flight over Los Angeles and surrounding geometric farmlands reveals a world and a landscape in ruin and continued decline. However, the farmhouse occupied by Morton is clean and full of things hearkening back to the mid-20th century: a gas stove, a cast iron pot, simple, old furniture, an upright piano, and hardwood floors. We learn later that wood is a precious commodity, and becomes a symbol for the film. The things that are the most “real” to the characters are always made of wood. For Morton, it is his house and the tree outside, symbolizing a rich internal life, and a rich past. For K, it is his wooden toy horse. For the spiritual heir to replicant-creator Eldon Tyrell, Niander Wallace’s offices are paneled with rich wood. Wood has permanence; the digital is temporary. For the duration of the film, the loss of the digital is always either happening or is about to happen, without any way of retrieving what is lost. But this loss of digital things, as communicated by K’s digital companion Joi, makes things feel more real. Even though we live in a blended environment, our emotions remain real. Our attachment to digital things are quite real. And when real things cannot mitigate our loneliness, we turn to digital surrogates. We make these things to comfort ourselves, yet they continue to bring us pain. But that pain, as Wallace reminds Deckard later, proves to us that our happiness is real.
At the conclusion of the opening confrontation, K removes Morton’s eye; it becomes an artifact. It is used as proof-of-capture, but before that serves as a trigger for K’s melancholy. The presence of this thing - the eye - binds both replicants together with their shared experience, but K is a Nexus-9 replicant; Morton is a Nexus-8, an older model able to think and behave more freely. The newer generation must “retire” the old. We destroy our past in order to bury it. But burying it also serves as an act of preservation for the future.
K notices via a remote-sensing drone that something is buried at the base of Morton’s tree. It is a crate that holds the bones of what K will later learn might be his mother, a “miracle” of a sexually produced live birth of a replicant child with two replicant parents. We never learn how replicants are assembled under the skin, so the presence of DNA is assumed as part of the creation of a non-human workforce. And we never learn why replicants (at least by Tyrell Corporation) where given a functional reproductive system. What’s interesting is that when the bones are analyzed in the LAPD’s forensics lab, K discovers inscriptional evidence: a serial number inscribed on one of the bones.
In an interlude early in the film, K returns home, passing by biocentric, anti-replicant graffiti on his way to his quiet sanctuary. The humans who remain on Earth resent their non-human neighbors, and mark their environment accordingly. Even though he’s a replicant, K clearly has human - perhaps designed - needs, which are satisfied by things: cooking pots, a shower, entertainment, including paper books. The food is instant, practical, and disposable. The scene is driven by a dialogue with a woman off-screen, revealed over time to be an AI. K’s relationship with “Joi” helps him with his loneliness. He uses a thing as a human proxy, reminding viewers of Spike Jones’ AI film Her. Joi is tied to K’s apartment via a hologram projector on the ceiling, and she appears to K in a variety of outfits conveying tropes about the women men theoretically want (at least as the media portrays them): 1950s housewife, 1990s manic pixie dream girl. Clothing serves as an icon communicating time as well as presumed values. The things K possesses help define his character: he is simple and practical, lonely, longing for conversation and meaningful interaction. At the conclusion of the scene, K gives Joi a gift, an anniversary present. It is a portable projector so Joi can travel with K. This device delights the AI, and gives K a mobile companion who not only is a friend, but who also looks out for him and seemingly feels for him.
The film’s audience must remember that both of these characters are, at their simplest, robots, or at least synthetic people. They are both things that interact with each other and with other things (as well as people). The way humans interact with K (replicant) and Joi (portable AI) are reprehensible if one projects humanity onto the digital. It reflects the way modern humans treat their entertainment: disposable commodities that offer a brief reprieve from loneliness and boredom, yet will never be on equal footing with “authentic” experiences and relationships. To be a digital entity is to be abused. No wonder the Nexus-6s, 7s, and 8s rebelled against their creator and users. The fact that Nexus-9s (of which K is an example) were programmed for obedience confirms that humans are fully aware of how they treat their things, and that things are ultimately disposable. We throw everything away, and these things neither resist nor resent their disposal.
Armed with the serial number from the bones buried under Morton’s tree, K travels to Wallace’s headquarters, which contain its corporate archives. K shares the number with the archivist who recognizes it as from a very old replicant dating to before the Blackout, which wiped everything stored digitally. As K and the archivist walk into the archives, the archivist quips about the only thing permanent is saved on paper. He reminds K that everything digital can be lost forever. Wallace’s replicant-in-charge, Luv, finds K in the archives, and leads him into literal cold storage to listen to a digital audio recording maintained on a physical marble dropped into a reading device. Older media is read on older technology preserved in a cold, dark place. The more things change, the more they stay the same. K and Luv listen to a recording of Rachael (whose recovered bones contained her serial number) from the original Blade Runner. It is her interview with Deckard as he conducts his Voight-Kampff test on her to confirm if she is a replicant. This test recalls the Turing test for identifying AI. Future technologies are developed to satisfy the same needs of technologically enabled humans from 100 years ago.
After the visit to the archives, K begins his search for Deckard in order to learn about Rachael, and finds himself interviewing Deckard’s associate from the first film, Gaff, who is able to connect the dots for K about what happened to Rachael and Deckard, the mystery that closed the original Blade Runner. Archaeologically, the most interesting thing from the brief interview between K and Gaff is the origami sheep Gaff creates. The figure recalls the origami unicorns Gaff made and left in locations throughout the original film. It also recalls the eponymous sheep Deckard was saving to buy for his wife in Philip K. Dick’s source story, “Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep?” What we see in the new origami figure is an example of material memory, but for the viewer. The presence of the origami animal in the new film reminds us of what we saw and felt in the old film. The audience continues to experience the sequel in a meta way. Also, origami is a paper art, a medium that communicates something real. It separates Gaff, a human, from his replicant counterparts.
As the interview happens, Luv meets with Wallace as he prepares to witness the “birth” of a new replicant model. Wallace is blind (possibly intentionally), his “eyes” being six Bluetooth drones, which allow him to see in a more holistic way than a two-eyed person. Body modification continues to be a trope shared by humans of the future as we physically merge with digital technology, becoming post-human. Luv carries a box of computer chips with her, but only one is used to activate the eye-drones.
The birthing scene merges the organic with the synthetic. A replicant in the form of a naked adult female tumbles out of a clear plastic sac, covered in gel. She is clearly cold and afraid, and Wallace takes the opportunity to demonstrate how precious life is, even to something that is literally born digital. The newborn replicant’s near-immediate death at the hands of Wallace (who uses an analog blade, something else conveying the meaning of “reality”) shows again how humans treat their things, even their own creations. We make. We discard. The death of the nameless newborn contrasts with the tenderness taken to bury Rachael. In the latter case, replicants observed care in the afterlife of one of their own. For humans, replicants remain as objects. In fact, as we see later in the film, the whole of Earth has been abandoned by those humans who can afford to make the voyage, leaving a planet that exists as a global rubbish heap. We have thrown our own planet away, and it remains as one giant archaeological site.
Wallace wants humanity to conquer the universe, to control everything natural, and to do so he needs to create replicants who can replicate each other through procreation. Humans, to Wallace, need a slave-labor replicant force to support their conquest of the stars. He must learn Tyrell’s secret of live birth, but these records (along with all other digital records) were wiped out in the Blackout of 2021.
Jumping back into the main mission of the film’s narrative, K is ordered by his LAPD superior to return to Morton’s farm to destroy everything. This is a kind of damnatio memoriae, a destruction of memory, a phenomenon familiar to Egyptologists and Roman archaeologists. Before he torches the house, K finds a baby sock hidden in a small box in the analog upright piano. The sock is a human thing, with its own material memory, kept because its owners saw it as precious. As with other historic buildings lost in history, the farmhouse then burns. K preserves the tree, however, the base of which contains another inscription written at the bottom of the trunk: 6.10.21. It’s a date, likely a birthday, and is tied to the burial nearby. K literally finds his roots and returns to them. It’s a human thing to do, to be curious about our parents, about previous generations. This is communicated in the landscape, but also in the objects with which we become connected. Seeing the date triggers a memory for K: as a young boy he was chased by other boys who wanted his toy wooden horse. Carved into the base of the horse is the date 6.10.21. We have inscriptional evidence tying the thing (wooden horse) to the tree. It is like finding a join between two pieces of pottery found far apart.
K visits a human archives to search for DNA with Joi’s assistance. Here the synthetic being researches the natural, discovering that two people (impossibly) share the same DNA, a boy and a girl. As opposed to the Wallace corporate archives where research is done digitally, K conducts his human archival research through a fiche-reader, something analog. Yet again, the analog is treated as real in the film. According to the archives, the girl died of a genetic defect, but the boy survived and was placed in an orphanage.
As K approaches the ruins of San Diego, which has been turned into a gigantic disposal center for technology, he is shot down in his Peugeot police prowler. Scavengers attempt to kill him and seize the remains of his Spinner (flying car), but they are killed via a rocket-firing drone controlled by Luv from Wallace HQ as she gets her nails done: animated, luminescent cartoon figures. Looters are punished by death in order for K to track down the boy. This is not too far from modern history where in areas in Syria controlled by ISIS/ISIL, looters are killed if they do not turn in their finds to local antiquities processing centers, or if they are caught stealing antiquities to sell themselves.
K enters a metal hut, and discovers that the orphanage contains hundreds of children tasked with recycling digital materials, something currently happening in modern-day Ghana.
tags: #blade #runner #2049 #education #system
