Make The Memories Yours (Personal Essay)

“All the best memories are hers.” No matter how many times I rewatch Denis Villeneuve’s Blade Runner 2049, its twist and ultimate conclusion remain just as impactful as they were the first time that I saw the film. The sequel to Ridley Scott’s cult classic Blade Runner takes the themes of transhumanism and identity innate to the cyberpunk genre and creates a compelling character study that serves as a meta-narrative about the audience itself. In seeing the replicant police officer “K” struggle with his sense of self and his longing for connection, the audience, myself included, began to see ourselves. The beauty of Blade Runner 2049, however, is that it does not let us grow comfortable with that mindset.

I must admit that that adoration was one born through artificial means; I went into the film with the intent to not only love it, but derive some deep personal meaning from it. This proved to be a monkey’s paw; I wanted to connect with the protagonist and themes, and I did. However, after stumbling through the world of burgeoning adulthood, I find myself connecting with the film more and more, and I have begun to despise that fact.

This strong emotional response and continual significance only speaks to its quality. Rather than leaning towards the bombastic side of cyberpunk, Villeneuve chose to craft a neo-noir. The ambient music, captivating award-winning cinematography, and all-consuming settings effectively convey the feeling of isolation and emptiness, even within a crowd. Every location is equally unique, the lighting enveloping K in overwhelming orange, blue, white, or grey, visually communicating how these moments and settings play into his existential journey of self-discovery and self-improvement. He disappears into the environments, leaving you to marvel at the visuals, sinking deeper into the world yourself as K’s sense of identity slowly crumbles.

Today, it finds itself alongside other Neo-noir films led by Ryan Gosling like 2011’s Drive as legions of young men find themselves drawn to the perceived “coolness” of the protagonists, ultimately romanticising loneliness. These films will always remain relevant so long as young men continue to feel this loneliness. Gosling fantastically portrays K as fragile and unstable, able to dramatically and spontaneously shift from solemn and composed to lashing out in fits of rage or violence.

Its importance to me over other existential character studies comes from how the twist subverts the hopes of both the protagonist and the audience. Every time I return to it, I find new aspects of K’s identity to relate to and criticise. The escapism found in the consumption of technology is only becoming more real, the cyberpunk setting takes that to the extreme. And as we find K interesting and compelling, we view ourselves as victims while failing to recognise the ugly truths: the longing for women is objectification (the name of his artificially loyal girlfriend being an acronym for “Jerk Off Instructions”), the self-victimisation is our paradoxical desire to be important. In reality, you will never be important. But instead of retreating inward, Bladerunner 2049 encourages you to acknowledge that reality, because only then can you truly begin to be the best average Joe you can possibly be.