The Gospel According to Ridley

BladeRunner (Ridley Scott, 1982)

If one of the overriding themes of Blade Runner (d. Ridley Scott, 1982) is the unanswerable question of what it means to be human, then surely one can study the disparities that exist between the film's human and non-human characters in order to arrive at some kind of 'answers' or 'conclusions'. This, of course, is paradoxical, because the 'unanswerable' is just that, and thus Scott's film is really more about offering suggestions and theories—and ultimately, about posing more questions—than it really is about offering conclusions to riddles that are beyond our comprehension to unravel (although it could well be argued that the film also provides multiple and often contradictory answers to all of these questions as well).

In his use of both Christian symbolism and language, Scott constructs the character of Roy Batty (against whom we can compare the human characters of Tyrell and Deckard) as an allegorical Christ-like figure—a representation which ironically demonstrates that maybe the traits of 'humanity' are something that we, the 'real' humans, have slowly lost or are losing, and in the extreme case of the film, this 'loss' has happened to such an extent that a synthetic human can, in the words of Tyrell, actually be "more human than human" (as indeed, Christ was).

There are two primary scenes in which the Batty-as-Christ allegory is given prominence (both of which take place towards the end of the film, giving the picture a kind of thematic climax along with its narrative one). The first takes place at Tyrell Headquarters, where Batty has a brief conversation with Tyrell before killing him. By this stage of the picture, Tyrell has been firmly established as the 'uber-capitalist,' and with this, his inherent coldness and inhumanity has been made more than clear to the audience. Batty, however, like Christ in his final hours, is merely trying to avoid his inevitable death—he has an inherent desire to live (arguably Christ's most human trait), which—as if the terms "prodigal son," "Father" and "God of bioengineering" weren't already enough to suggest the Batty-as-Christ allegory—is surely enough to suggest the 'humanity' of the non-human character, which is contrasted in this scene to Tyrell's complete apathy towards what appears to be (and I would argue is) a very real and valid emotion. Truly, despite the murder that ensues (let's call it Batty's way of crying, "Father, why have you forsaken me?"), Batty is—by way of his Christ-like/human desire to live—"more human than human" (or at least, more human that Tyrell, which is really all that matters).

The second of these scenes takes place on the rooftop at the film's narrative climax, where—instead of language—symbolic Christian imagery is used (the nail through Batty's hand and the white dove in particular) to extend the allegory to a point where there's really no questioning its existence. Batty—in act that clearly demonstrates all of those distinctly 'human' traits (compassion, tenderness, forgiving) that have been lacking in the actions of the film's human characters—saves Deckard's life, and thus, in effect, both 'forgives' and 'redeems' him, before finally accepting his fate (as did Christ) by embracing death. One can't help but wonder what would have happened had the roles been reversed in this scene, and I think that one need only consult the 'retirement' of Zora (which is—formally speaking—constructed with a mind to maximise the cold-blooded and inhumane nature of the execution as explicitly as possible) for an answer. Thus, again, the Batty-as-Christ allegory allows Scott to contrast the human and non-human characters, deducting that 'being human' is simply not the same as 'being humane'.

So, while Blade Runner doesn't give the definitive answers to any of unanswerable questions that it poses, it does provide arguments that support but one of many possibilities. It does so in a number of ways, of course, of which I have only discussed but one—the use of Christian symbolism and language as a means of creating an allegorical Christ-like figure, to whom we, as a viewer, can contrast the film's human characters and against whom we can see both their flaws and our own.