A few weeks ago, on July 19 2019, Dutch character actor Rutger Hauer passed away at the age of 75 following an as-of-now unspecified illness, and it would take at least three posts unto themselves in order to truly encapsulate what a loss this is for the world of cinema. Throughout his career, Hauer had burrowed his was into the hearts and minds of film-goers everywhere through his portrayal of some of the most iconic characters in pop culture (mainly villains), and since his transition to American films from Dutch television, he had done enough work to be considered a sort of unsung hero among actors of his era. Even while he was type casted into villainous roles following a certain timeless classic of 80’s sci-fi, the man was guaranteed to add dimension, charisma, and nuance to any character he was assigned. As such, I was very deliberate (hesitant, really) in putting out a sort of tribute post, since my intention was never to simply write over a man’s grave. In other words, I hope I’m able to properly honor Rutger Hauer through this exploration of what’s considered his most iconic character- “Blade Runner’s” Roy Batty.
WARNING: The following is a heavily analytical post that contains SPOILERS for the plots of the following movie–
- Blade Runner (1982)
Released in 1982 in the wake of heavy studio meddling and re-editing, Ridley Scott’s “Blade Runner” was something of a misunderstood piece of cinema, and in spite of its current status as a beloved classic among philosophical science fiction films, its initial theatrical release was met with mixed reviews, with most audiences taking umbrage with its slow pace and overemphasis on atmosphere. Of course, both of those things would later be seen as immortalizing achievements for “Blade Runner”, but that larger misunderstanding of the film’s intentions as a whole rang especially true for audience’s views on the characters, particularly the protagonist and antagonist. In an interview concerning the story of the video game “Detroit: Become Human” (also concerning the plights and oppression of androids), Quantic Dream CEO and lead developer David Cage once said that his game’s story differs from that of “Blade Runner” by virtue of the fact that “the androids are the good guys” in his story. To make such a clear-cut statement on the morality of the film’s characters, however, is to stand as completely emblematic of the kind of misunderstandings still misdirected at “Blade Runner”. Speaking as one who took multiple views of “Blade Runner” to truly grasp its victories as an artistic achievement, I can say that I was also guilty of expecting a straightforward sci-fi action movie with a hard boiled Harrison Ford as the unquestionable hero during my first viewing.
I certainly wasn’t expecting to weep for the villain.
This “villain”, Roy Batty (Rutger Hauer) is one of several rogue “replicants” (androids) attempting to escape a post-nuclear Los Angeles, unique among the crew he’s assembled for being designed with combat in mind. He’s terrifyingly stronger than the average human, but also possesses an even sharper mind, capable of seamless tactics and keen manipulation on the fly. He is also, in essence, a traumatized veteran, so utterly shaken by the destruction he’s witnessed on duty that he only wants to escape the role assigned to him and extend the life he wants to carry out in peace. When he arrives on Earth and finds out that extending that programed lifespan is impossible, Batty becomes determined to do all that fulfills him in that short window of time, killing his creator and attempting an escape before the last of his time is up. In the midst of his struggle, Rick Deckard (Harrison Ford), an LAPD detective and former “Blade Runner” (bounty hunter for rogue replicants) is assigned to “retire” Batty and his motley crew of escaped androids. In any typical narrative, the morality of the situation would be as clear-cut as it sounds- Roy Batty is a murderer and a rebel, and Deckard the hero assigned to put an end to his trail of destruction.
It should be abundantly clear, however, that “Blade Runner” is not your typical narrative, and its focus is on the struggles stifling both sides of the conflict. Whatever black-and-white ethics could be applied to the cat-and-mouse scenario completely evaporate upon the revelation that the replicants have been developing empathy and emotional responses to stimuli over time, and that revelation paints Batty and his crew less as murderous machines than as escaped slaves yearning to live among the humans they share the gift of feeling with. Of course, Batty’s manipulations and murderous actions do make him a villain in this story, but a sympathetic one who one could argue to only be in this situation because of the dehumanizing circumstances imposed onto them by their creators. The philosophical questions raised by these supposed human appliances becoming “fully human” in their own right have been thoroughly explored in countless other academic materials, and thus are not my focus here, but they are crucial to understanding Batty’s way of thinking: Roy Batty had seen the destruction capable of combat, developed emotion, and snapped upon the realization that his is considered an object in the world that he was built into. What aids the narrative in painting Roy Batty as sympathetic are the film’s use of performance and framing, especially as the story draws to a close. Rutger Hauer delivers a performance that seems menacing and calculating at first, but as his struggle unravels and he loses more and more of his replicant friends, it becomes clear that Hauer is just as broken and confused and the detective chasing him, and what could have been an uneven sense characterization for Batty becomes a soul-crushing tearjerker as Hauer vicariously and perfectly conveys Roy’s anguish. I’m sure that most film buffs, however, are painfully aware of the moment Roy ceases to be a true villain, and that would be in his final moments.
Rick Deckard is dangling from the edge of a building, and visibly slipping. Having mended his own wounds to the best of his ability, Roy Batty is capable of walking. He could use the last of his moments to revel in his victory as his pursuer falls to his death. Instead, he pulls the detective up, reflecting on the mortality he was cursed with, and telling Deckard before he dies:
“I’ve seen things you people wouldn’t believe. Attack ships on fire off the shoulder of Orion. I watched C-beams glitter in the dark near the Tannhäuser Gate. All those moments will be lost in time, like tears in rain. Time to die.”
It’s in that moment, shortly before Batty’s head slowly drops and life leaves him, that the murderous replicant ceases to be a villain in spite of all he has done. Even in the chase leading up to this, the film’s cinematography balances focus between Deckard and Batty in equal measure, with the android’s desperation and pain on as much tragic display as that of the hero. This use of perspective, combined with Hauer’s pitiable expressions and strained delivery, paint a lucid picture of a man (not a replicant, a man) at the end of his rope, desperate to find something worth all of his pain. He leaves Deckard, and by extension, the audience, with that pain to think about as he dies, and Deckard’s internal questions, written plain on his face, are answered only by the cold beating of the rainfall. That Hauer rewrote Batty’s last words before filming also greatly benefits the depth of his character- the comparative brevity of Hauer’s version of this monologue, combined with his final acceptance of death, create a haunting death soliloquy that comes just as quickly as it leaves, rendering audiences in inevitable shock as the runaway murderer comes to terms with his own imminent demise. Words honestly cannot do this sort of poetry justice, so I’ll leave this by stating that Rutger Hauer had contributed to unmistakable art in motion with his performance and collaboration with the film’s crew, and I’m only sad that such a man’s story had to come to such an unforeseen, abrupt end. The pain of one replicant may have slipped by like tears in the rain, but Rutger Hauer certainly will not.
He will always be missed.
Rich Reviews 