2 clanka iz Time magazine-a:
ima ovde pdf ceo broj
http://emagazinepdf.com/2017/10/time-usa-october-16-2017/
Do-Androids-Dream-Of-Electric-Sequels
MORE THAN anything, Blade Runner is a story about the end of empire, capitalism at its grim logical conclusion. That is the case for both the 1982 classic directed by Ridley Scott and the long-awaited sequel, Blade Runner 2049, starring Harrison Ford and Ryan Gosling. The profit motive has destroyed the environment; the wealthy have fled to interplanetary colonies; and those who remain on Earth humans and androids alike—live in dense squalor congested by pollution and garish advertisements. And yet, in the hands of director Denis Villeneuve (Arrival), it’s also beautiful. He spoke to TIME about making the film.
This is a sequel to one of the most celebrated sci-fi films of all time. What did you want to preserve? In the first movie, you were seeing layers of time. In most sci-fi, the world is purely a vision of the future. But in Blade Runner, you felt the dirt that was coming out of the ages. I wanted to make sure that we were as specifically true to film noir as the first movie was. And I wanted the atmosphere to carry the beautiful melancholy that was so powerful in the first movie.
How do you update a vision of the future from 35 years ago? Ridley took the main currents of the ’70s—the fashion, the aesthetics—and brought them into the future. Me, I had to struggle with a movie that was made in 1982 that talked about 2019. As we all know, there’s a difference between the future world of Blade Runner and today’s reality. I came to the conclusion that I needed to deal with an alternate universe—to start with the world of the first Blade Runner and extend it. So I went back to all the cultural references of the first movie and imagined how they would evolve.
One major continuity is the pervasiveness of advertising in this
world. I didn’t want to come back to the fantastic image of the blimp [in the original]. I felt that belonged to the first movie. I decided to use different technology, like drones that can project 3-D images into the smog, because the smog is so thick. The ads themselves express the blend of cultures: in this universe, the ocean has risen, most of Eastern Asia has been flooded, and there are many refugees from everywhere in the world who’ve come to Los Angeles.
The environment is a major them in both films. I wanted to show how
human beings are disconnected more and more from nature. There is a lack of humility: we are trying to control nature when nature is stronger than us by far. At the end of the day I don’t know anyone who will outlast nature.
And that influenced the costumes too? Winter was the strongest influence here. The clothes were designed to withstand a very harsh, cold environment that shifts from rain to snow to icy rain very quickly. Winter has an impact on people’s behavior: you don’t walk the same way, you don’t talk the same way, you don’t think the same way.
How did you deal with the improvements in special-effects technology? It’s important to underline the fact that Ridley Scott and Douglas
Trumbull’s special effects in the original movie are a work of genius. I didn’t have to struggle with the same technological challenges as they did. This movie is a blend of very old passionate approach and high-end technology. We built all the sets first, constructed all the vehicles, did all the rain and the snow and the fog with practical effects. All the streets, all the exteriors—we constructed everything.
There’s a scene where you see a car inside a penthouse—that was real. There was a real vehicle that came inside the room. I feel that CGI is very strong when it’s helping reality, helping real shots. But to start just from CGI is not something I wanted to do.
These movies envision a future of decay. But their visual majesty
conveys a certain optimism. Is this an optimistic film? I think so. For me, one of my goals was to create a bleak world with strong sparks of beauty coming out of it. That’s why the first sequence, where Officer K (Gosling) is flying toward Los Angeles, is a gray, overcast, dark, austere landscape with winter light. Suddenly you have sparks
of light coming out of the landscape’s technology, and that creates beauty. The humanity of the characters creates beauty. It’s a movie that I feel has, in a strange way, an optimistic ending. And I’m glad about that, because I need to have that kind of optimism in the world
today.—NASH JENKINS
2049 is a love letter to Blade Runner
SO MANY MOVIES TODAY HAVE A million near-endings, each promising,
„But wait, there’s more!” There are a million near-endings in Blade Runner 2049, Denis Villeneuve’s sequel to Ridley Scott’s 1982 future-noir Blade Runner, and some are O.K. Shot by cinematographer Roger Deakins, this is also a handsome picture: it echoes the first movie’s somber, rain-misted L.A., only with additional strata of despair and wistfulness.
But there’s enough story here for three sequels, and not even the
capable shoulders of its star, Ryan Gosling—as K, a future-world LAPD officer charged with seeking and destroying androids, or replicants—
can carry all of it. Early on, K endures a bone-crushing encounter with one of his targets (Dave Bautista, who maximizes just a few slender minutes of screen time); reports back to his no-nonsense, no-makeupwearing boss (Robin Wright, groovy in her sternness); and goes home to his hologram girlfriend (Margaret Keane–eyed Ana de Armas), a
charmer programmed to genuinely care about what kind of day he’s had. She’s prepared a meal of makebelieve steak frites tantalizingly
superimposed over his real dinner, a bachelor’s bowl of drab brown
noodles. Later Harrison Ford reprises the role of Rick Deckard, though he too eventually gets lost in endlessly breaking waves of plot.
That’s not to say there aren’t some inspired touches. The best of them
is a retro-modern jukebox that looks like one of those old Victorian glass bells with a mini hologram of one of the great singers of the 20th century inside. His crooning is like the signal from a ghostship calling through the years. Old movies send out those types of signals too. Our job, when watching a sequel, is to sort of remember and sort of forget what came before. 2049 doesn’t make us sort of forget enough.
