“I’ve Seen Things You People Wouldn’t Believe”: Blade Runner, Frankenstein, and the Avant-textes by Frank Alanis

Ridley Scott’s Blade Runner is perhaps most famously known for its convoluted history in regards to its production history. The film has been in constant change since its inception and has become a staple in the field of science fiction and film studies. Although the film is a (loose) adaptation, Timothy Shanahan calls it a transmutation” (4), of Philip K. Dick’s Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep?, it is also a direct descendant of Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein. Mary Shelley’s assistance in the development of science fiction with the creation of the Frankenstein monster/creature can be seen as laying down the textual foundation for Blade Runner. The two texts share many similarities in theme and raise the same philosophical issues concerning aspects of creation, and this has been noted and pointed out by numerous scholars since the film’s inception. However, the direct connection between the literal creation of the text is often absent in the scholastic conversation about these texts. By way of genetic critics, a form of manuscript studies, tracing the development of Blade Runner shows that it also shares the same controversial creation surrounding the text as it does in Frankenstein. In reading Blade Runner genetically with the Frankenstein framework in place, it shows that there is no definitive version, as the packaging of the film may suggest, but rather an entire discourse that is always in progress.

The parallels between Blade Runner and Frankenstein have been a topic for discussion since the film’s inception. Judith B. Kerman’s edited collections of essays on Blade Runner[1] includes David Desser’s “The New Eve: The Influence of Paradise Lost and Frankenstein on Blade Runner” which is one of the first academic comparisons between the two. Desser’s piece looks at the direct influences that these two older texts had on the film; most notably considering the similarities between Milton’s Lucifer and Roy Batty in the case of Paradise Lost. The essay’s main connection between Frankenstein and Blade Runner stems from a more thematic similarity, “what Frankenstein and Blade Runner seem concerned with at this level is the very definition of what it means to be human, to be a real person” (57). As both these texts deal with some form of artificial life, proto-artificial life (Frankenstein) and speculative-futuristic (Blade Runner) and try to navigate this question of humanity. Blade Runner is the closest to reaching the concept and theme of Shelley’s novel despite it coming from a different source material. As Clayton notes, “the film powerfully evokes Frankenstein” (85)[2]; “The cinematic narrative appropriates and transforms the animating aspects of Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein in the staged class between creator and creature, between human and non-human” (Lussier and Gowan 167). The most prominent retelling of a Frankenstein moment occurs when Batty confronts Tyrell and proclaims, “I want more life, father/fucker”[3] before murdering him. This moment can be seen as a possible altered version of Frankenstein where the creator actively takes revenge on the person who committed the “natural” sin. Clayton notes of this scene that “although Roy destroys Tyrell rather than Tyrell’s family, the parallel with Frankenstein is unmistakable” (90). This discussion around creator has been at the forefront of the discussion of these two texts and have provided a great deal of scholarship for dedicated fans, instructors, and scholars. However, another important theme that Clayton highlights is the role that vision plays in the two texts, noting that Victor is immediately repelled by the sight of the creature (Clayton 89). The first few lines dedicated to describing the creature once he is sentient revolve around vision, “miserable monster whom I had created. He held up the curtain of the bed; and his eyes, if eyes they may be called, were fixed on me” (F 1818 36). The fascination with eyes and vision occurs in the film as well, “Blade Runnerempathizes eyes fully as much” (Clayton 89). If the film is fascinated with the notion of vision, then examining all of the various cuts under the single impression of a discursive Blade Runner rather than singling out a text and elevating it to “definitive status” can bring forth a new meaning to the film. Both these texts fall under the umbrella of science fiction and as a result of a scientific-like literary study, genetic criticism, can open up not just the text of Blade Runner, but the way in which it and Frankenstein are in conversation
The primary methodology that will be used is Genetic Criticism, a form of manuscript studies that developed in France during the late 60s and early 70s. As Michael Groden notes, genetic criticism comes out of the structuralist and post-structuralist philosophical backdrop of France (2). In its approach to text editing or textual scholarship, genetic criticism is more concerned with the development and process of creating a text. This particular word, text, comes from the (post-) structuralist notion of the word; for genetic critics, and genreaders, text[4] is seen as “an infinite play of signs, but accepts a teleological model of textuality and constantly confronts the question of authorship” (2). In the process of examining a text genetically, the artifact known as a draft must be acknowledged and accepted not merely as a byproduct of the final text, but instead as a text itself. Rather than dismiss these “rough drafts,” or in the case of Blade Runner, cuts, genetic critics look to what they call “avante-texts” as a way to extract and negotiate meaning from these texts. As Groden further notes, ‘genetic criticism is concerned with precisely what is not repetition” and in doing so “a genetic critic will see meaningful variation” (11). In examining and thinking about texts regarding the difference in the progress of a text, a new set of insights can be found, and pre-established readings (Marxists, Feminists, etc.) can be strengthened or taken further.
In the discussion of the origins of Genetic Criticism, Louis Hay points out that, “genetic analysis makes us question this development [of a text] because it confronts us with a text in movement” (23). The text in movement is the understanding that a text is in a constant state of development meaning that it can never truly reach a fullness of presence. In tackling the text that is Blade Runner from this vantage point, this analysis will look to genetic criticism, or at least a variation of it, to destabilize the notion of a definitive or authentic “cut” of the film. Rather than approaching the text strictly from an editorial perspective and determine or argue for the most “authentic” version of the film, this analysis will examine multiple versions of Blade Runner in an attempt to argue that each one is necessary for the creation of the myth or text that is Blade Runner.

Genetic Criticism is very much interested in genesis over definitive edition, which is where it distinguishes itself from textual criticism. The result of coming out of late 60s France and its coinciding with the rise in post-structuralist thought gives genetic criticism the ability to open up a text. Whereas schools of thought such as “deconstruction” has allowed for a text to be opened up to a plurality of meaning, genetic criticism has taken this notion of “opening up” in a slightly different direction. The opening of new possibilities of interpretation comes out of the investigation of the process and the “avante-texts” as being an instrumental part of uncovering meaning. The allowance of “pre-text” materials to be used in the evaluation of a text brings forth more questions about creator choice and understanding the traces of what makes up the assumed final product. By starting at the genesis, or a written moment very near it, of a text or moment of the text, one can uncover this plurality of meaning within and from the exterior of the text.
Although this paper looks to think about the text of Blade Runner in relation to Frankenstein genetically, there will be a set designation of genesis to what is widely and authoritatively consider the final product. An extensive genetic reading would examine all available pieces of writing (drafts, sketches, hand-written notes) to go about fully opening the text. In the case of Blade Runner, the genesis is more complicated than that of what is considered a traditional written narrative. Due to the medium of film, the genesis of this particular narrative is divided among multiple “authors.” Additionally, it is known, according to verbal testimony, that changes in the filming of the text occurred spontaneously at times and have no “written” genesis to refer to. The most famous of this sort of instance in Blade Runner is Roy Batty’s (in) famous “tears in rain” line. It is told, according to multiple sources, that Rutger Hauer (the actor playing Batty) spoke to Scott about a new line he thought about adding to the end of Batty’s final speech. Scott approved of this addition, and it was inserted into the movie and has become one of the most cited lines from the film[5]. As this instance shows, the formulation of films makes it complicated to gather all possible written points of origin. With this in mind, the point of genesis, the Urtext, for this genetic reading will be using Hampton Francer and Daniel People’s 1981 updated screenplay (F/PS) for the film. This particular text was a slightly altered version of Hampton’s original Blade Runner screenplay and is somewhat closer to what was ultimately filmed by Scott.

Using this screenplay as the Urtext, the paper will trace multiple screened versions of the film, and examine its genesis over the span of 30 years. Although there are more than five different cuts of the film available to the public, this analysis will specifically examine the work print (WP) version originally shown in Dallas and Denver; the original US theatrical cut (TC) released in 1982; the marketed “Director’s Cut” (DC) released in 1992 in select theaters and on home video; and finally the 2007 “Final Cut” (FC) that was marketed as the “definitive” version of the film. Although all versions of the films are important and should be acknowledged in the process of Blade Runner, they do not have immediately significant chances in the larger development of the film and its production history. In considering the text of Blade Runner regarding genetic criticism, it would be difficult to examine rigorously and thoroughly the entirety of the “film.” Instead this analysis with being what genetic critics call a Microgenetic analysis which, “sets up and interprets the total compositional development of a short textual fragment” (De Biasi 27). These “short textual fragments” of Blade Runner are ones that have been at the core of the debate regarding the authenticity of versions. The first of the fragments is the opening scene of the film(s) which serves as the moment that established the language of the world, in particular, the definition of “replicant” that is shown. The next moment is the (in)famous “unicorn” scene, where Deckard falls asleep shortly after Rachel leaves due to her finding out she is a replicant. This moment is at the core of the film’s discussion and is the central moment pointed towards to help define the intention of the film. In direct relation/conversation with the unicorn/non-unicorn scene is the film’s ending. The influence of the previously discussed scene helps alter the way the film ends and therefore helps reinforce a specific reading of the text. The ending is usually divided into two different variations; the “happy one” where Deckard is not a replicant and the “ambiguous ones” that are associated with Deckard being a (possible) replicant. These key moments are necessary to be rigorously examined in their progression to help open up the text further to interpretation.

The opening moments of each version of Blade Runner begins with a textual preface establishing who and what a replicant is. As Timothy Shanahan notes in Philosophy and Blade Runner, “although Blade Runner inherits its narrative DNA from Electric Sheep, it is better described as a transmutation than as an adaption of PKD’s novel” (4). The core elements that have been carried over from novel to film is the skeleton plot which revolves around bounty hunter Rick Deckard hunting artificial life forms in the San Francisco area. Although the “DNA” remains the same, it is the details in the film that changes from novel to film. Instead of Deckard being a bounty hunter, he is called a Blade Runner,[6] and the word android was altered to replicant, while the setting moved from San Francisco to Los Angeles. In the genesis of Blade Runner, each version starts with the establishment of the hunted. In the F/PS, the opening page presents two separate definitions of an android, not a replicant. The originally appeared in the script as:

android (an’droid) adj. Possessing human features
– n. A synthetic man created from biological materials.
Also called humanoid. (Late Greek androeides, manlike: ANDR(O) – OID.)
THE AMERICAN HERITAGE
DICTIONARY OF THE ENGLISH
LANGUAGE (1976)

android (an’droid) n, Gk. humanoid automation. more at robot./ 1. early version utilized for work too boring, dangerous or unpleasant for humans.
2.​second generation bio-engineered. Electronic relay units and positronic brains. Used in spaceto explore inhospitable environments.
3.​third generation synthogenetic. REPLICANT, constructed of skin/flesh culture. Selected enogenic transfer conversion. Capable of self perpetuating thought. paraphysical abilities. Developed for emigration program.

WEBSTER’S DICTIONARY
New International (2012)

In this early conception of the film, there was an attempt to keep the original wording of the novel intact. Additionally, in the script, there is no indication about “crawling” text that appears throughout all the publically released iterations of the film. During the transition from script to screen the word changed from android to replicant. The WP that was screened to select audiences (including Philip K. Dick) opens with the following definition instead:

REPLICANT[7] \rep’li-cant\ n. See also ROBOT (antique): ANDROID (obsolete): NEXUS (generic): Synthetic human with paraphysical capabilities, having skin/flesh culture.
Also: Rep, skin job (slang): Off-world uses: combat, high risk industrial, deep-spaced probe. On-world use prohibited.
Specifications and quantities—information classified.
NEW AMERICAN DICTIONARY.
Copyright © 2016.

The shift between terms signals the narrative movement away from the novel and by doing so, creates a different project than that of Dick’s story. As Shanahan notes, “this is the only time in any version of the film that the word ‘android’ appears, and it does so only to inform us that this term is obsolete” (29). It appears that Shanahan is only referring to the screened versions of the film as the early scripts not only use the word but make it the central figure of the film. Shanahan is right to point out the relationship between the words ‘android,’ and ‘obsolete’ as the word has disappeared from the published versions of the film. This word, however, has an additional connotation in regards to the movement away from the written texts of origin. The term obsolete carries a non-organic feeling, as it is often associated with objects as opposed to living creators. The term is “no longer or practiced” and is “out of date”[8] because the text of Blade Runner is no longer concerned with the mechanical aspect of these artificial beings. Instead, the new term replicant is something that is more “organic” as it is a direct reference to the biological phenomena of replication. After David Peoples was hired to assist in the revision of the script, the change in word occurred. Peoples was having a conversation with his daughter who was studying microbiology, and it was during that conversation that the word ‘replicant’ became a “variation on ‘replication'” (Bukatman 27). This more organic choice of word helped blur the distinction between human/nonhuman even more so than in the novel as evident as by Tyrell’s proclamation of his company’s replicants being “More Human than Human.”

However, these two defining terms to share one specific characteristic, “a synthetic (hu)man.” This term creates the sense that these artificial life forms are in essence doppelgangers of “traditional” human beings. The F/PS notes that the Andorids are made from “biological materials” which brings it close towards the perception of what constitutes a human. While the WP definition attempts to make, the replicants seem like beings that are actually beyond human, rather than just a tool that imitates the human. In an interview with Danny Peary in 1984, Ridley Scott speaks about the relationship between human and replicant as, “within the context of this film, the replicants are more ‘human’ than humans or ‘more equal’ than humans. They are superior—they make their own choices” (Knapp and Kulas 53). This acknowledgment by the director is influential in the reading of the text because of the weight that contemporary artists have on their own work. In elevating the replicants, Scott complicates the question of the authentic human. Additionally, both definitions make clear that these beings are intended for work that is not desired by humans; this includes high-risk tasks such as combat and deep space probing. While the script version of the text takes a more removed objective stance, only presenting the information about the Andorids, the WP creates the argument and narrative that these beings are very much a part of modern life in the world of Blade Runner.

In the aftermath of the Denver and Dallas test screenings, the WP version of the film went through numerous “revisions” to appeal to a larger audience. Among these changes was the alteration of the opening preface scene. Instead of the definition of replicant appearing on the screen, the new theatrical version has the text “crawling” across the screen similar to the Star Wars films. The text itself has moved away from dictionary “excerpts” to a more narrative-based preface:
Early in the 21st Century, THE TYRELL CORPORATION advanced robot evolution into the NEXUS phase – a being virtually identical to a human – known as a Replicant. The NEXUS 6 Replicants were superior in strength and agility, and at least equal in intelligence, to the genetic engineers who created them. Replicants were used Off-World as slave labor, in the hazardous exploration and colonization of other planets. After a bloody mutiny by a NEXUS 6 combat team in an Off-World colony, Replicants were declared illegal on earth – under penalty of death. Special police squads – BLADE RUNNER UNITS – had orders to shoot to kill, upon detection, any trespassing Replicant. This was not called execution. It was called retirement.

This move to a story-driven narrative creates an attempt to drawn in more people and create the illusion that this film is very much like its other science fiction film counterparts. This introduction does, however, does very little to keep the ambiguity of the question of humanity intact. Instead, this textual fragment paints the picture of the replicants being beyond human, which is in line with the WP connotation, while also being inhuman by portraying them as being violent, “after a bloody mutiny by a Nexus 6 combat team.” What this particular version also adds is the mentioning of Blade Runner units and in doing so creates the juxtaposition of the humans as being victimized by the nonhuman androids. The last two lines of this introduction attempt to make this distinction as clear as possible, by noting that the killing of replicants was in fact not killing/murder, but rather retirement, to make them obsolete. This particular crawling text makes an appearance in all publically released cuts[9] of the film (TC, DC, &FC). Additionally, in both the WP and following “revised” editions of the film, the word ‘replicant’ appears in bright red, which signals a narrative of the replicants being savages and therefore distinctly nonhuman. In the F/PSthere is no indication of the color choices that would be made in the film. Instead, it appears that this decision was made by Scott and others in the visual departments as a way to subtly begin to confront the thematic idea of human authenticity.

The shift from android to replicant is also a move away from a pre-established science-fiction discourse. The term android, and its variant ‘droid,’ immediately creates an image of a being/creation that is already far from human. This approach of mutating the word into something different, something more organic and “life-like” is a response to the traditional science fiction films that are developing in this particular period; primarily star wars which uses the term droid in its franchise. The progress that this opening moment has gone through allows for the reader to see the intentional and unintentional consequences that develop in the altering of a single word. As the WP predicates, the word ‘android’ becomes in fact outdated the more time passed regarding film development. The term has become obsolete through authoritative measures as the film’s scripters/architects made conscious decisions to not include the word as a way of defining the difference in the film. In omitting “android” from the onset, it established that the film as not the PKD novel and as not of the science fiction variety that is/was expected of the audience.[10] This film from a conceptual standpoint is very similar to the manner that this film is placed in the discourse of its (many) subgenres; science fiction. It is a replicant in that it looks and mirrors the science fiction that comes before it, but is also a slight variation of it. It is different at its attempt in not trying to tell a story, but rather in it presenting a visual experience.

The heavy-handed story elements of the film are inserted posthumously, meaning that after the film was given “life,” which directed the film into a more “traditional” direction in order to blend in with the other blockbuster action-science fiction films of the period. In that sense, the film itself is very much like the replicants it presents to its audience; trying to blend in with the masses and not stand out too much in fear of being ridiculed.

In the shifting from the script and WP versions of the film, to the TC/DC/FC, one small, but vital, aspect was removed: the dictionary citation. Although a seemingly insignificant detail that was omitted because of narrative necessity, this removal changes the authoritative complexion of the film. This removal of an authority figure gives license creative innovation as the word ‘replicant’ is no longer necessarily tied to the definition given. Instead, this definition can be understood as a perception from a particular point of view. The replicant narrative presented is then one from the perspective of those who look to keep them othered and removed from the notion of being human and only being “a being virtually identical to a human” instead of “Synthetic humans.” The evolution of just the opening credits of the film firmly establishes that the narrative is unreliable in the fact that it is taking the story from a humanist perspective. This removal of the authority signature then should be an instance where readers follow in the progression of the text. The film itself is haunted by the signature of authority still though, not necessarily in the text, but rather outside the text. The film is sold and marketed based on the how close to the “director” it is in reverse to what the process of this text shows. In understanding the progression and development of this opening preface, the underlying notion of open interpretation is widened.

The authoritative signature that haunts Blade Runner was and in some ways still does haunt the text of Frankenstein. The packaging and marketing of the novel have helped it develop into the conscious of the public. Upon its initial reaction, the novel had help from Percy Shelley, although anonymously, by way of a positive critical review which helped the novel in its initial production. Although a controversial issue within the discourse of Frankenstein, the role of Percy Shelley was instrumental in the creation of the discourse of Frankenstein.[11] During the Romantic period, it was Percy who dominated the landscape of the literary field meaning that his “approval” gave the text a sense of legitimacy during that period. As a result of Percy’s mass appeal, the text of Frankenstein is often looked to as a way to help understand the life and texts of Percy as opposed to acknowledging the contribution that Mary Shelley made to the field of literature[12]. Although it was problematic to reduce MWS’s contribution to simply an aid for Percy, the act of keeping the text of Frankenstein in the discourse of academia allowed to the text to develop out of that confined space into a larger and full space.

The final moments of the film(s) are at the heart of the ongoing debate[13] of the most accurate version of the film and are entangled with the same sort of authoritative “red tape.” The endings typically have a direct relationship with the present/non-present and therefore the reading of the film. Unlike the opening/preface of the film with its drastic shift from version to version, this moment, and the one previously mentioned, do have shared moments in every inception of the film. Holistically this moment can be traced to and defined concerning the tinfoil unicorn that Deckard encounters as he exits the apartment with Rachel. Depending on the moment in progress during the film’s production, the unicorn signifies a different outcome of the text. The always present moments of this scene provide a framework that allows for the ever-shifting nature that always for multiple readings of the film. In each iteration, the scene begins in the aftermath of Deckard’s confrontation with Batty where he comes face to face with Gaff in the rain. Gaff, who serves as an image of the established authority, makes it clear to Deckard that the hunt for replicants is not quite over following the death of Batty. He states, in some variation, that Rachel is the next in line to be “retired” whether it is by Deckard or not. The saying that Gaff does utter to Deckard made one distinct but important change from script to screen. In the F/PS Gaff states, “It’s too bad, she won’t last, eh!” followed by the character direction [The smile was real and a little sad] and ending with “But who does” (130). The specific wording in this initial version highlights the fact that Rachel is a replicant; making he more into an object that has a limited value by use of the word “last.” In the same way that a social trend or some phenomena will not last, she was always already throughout of regarding her usability. This is interesting to note because this version of the film has what would be considered one of the “happy endings” although that in itself is also not entirely accurate. In the filmed versions of BR, this scene occurs very much similar to the F/PS, with the one notable exception being the change of the word “last” in Gaff’s speech. The filmed version (WP, TC, DC, & FC) change that word to live so instead Gaff states, “Too bad she won’t live. But then again who does.” The shift in wording from “last” to “live” alters the impression of the film. The usage of the word “live” then implies that Rachel, and thereby all replicants, are more than just tools but rather are sentient beings that function independently of their volition. This avante-scene before the ending of the established a framework and foreshadowed the atmosphere that the film will conclude with.

The shift in this word choice is mirrored by two preceding changes that have occurred in the discourse of Blade Runner. Most evidently, this change from mechanical in the F/PS to “organic” or “lively” in the filmed version takes place not just here at the end but also back at the beginning where both the film and this analysis begin. The film script does make out the dichotomy of human/machine much more explicit and clear in its language and framing of the text. However, as the framework looks straightforward, the actuality of the text as it occurs is contradictory to what is thought to be expected and in what ultimately comes out of it on the screen.

In addition to the reference to the preface of the film, this scene before the end and its shifting in wording are like that of Frankenstein. In the progression from draft to published edition, the novel went through various changes in its tone and its language. In searching for Percy’s part of the novel, Charles Robinson notes that “many of the words that PBS contributed to Frankenstein resulted from his correction of MWS’s diction and syntax in the Draft” (121). This notes that Percy simply served as an editor to help shape MWS’ version of the text, but also attempted to insert his reading of the avante text into the final product. Among all these diction and syntactical edits, his one major contribution to Frankenstein was helping in “naming” of the creature. It was PBS “who called the creature a ‘Being,’ a word PBS used five times in his review of Frankenstein” (127). The usage of this particular word connotes a shared respect, or at the very least an acknowledgment, of the other as an independently functioning individual. The word being, much like the word replicant at the beginning of the text, gives the artificial life form a sense of agency and blurs preconceived notions of authenticity.

The traces of these constant changes and inability to singularly identify can true aspect of authenticity culminates with the ending(s) of the film as they are the moment(s) turn towards in their analysis of the film. The final minutes of the film are dedicated to attempting to defer the idea of closure as each film, with the exception of the TC, and complicate the notion of authority that is mangled in the discourse of Blade Runner. In those last moments, Deckard rushes home to his apartment looking for Rachel. Once he locates her, he is immediately concerned that she is dead/retired, but quickly finds out that she is still alive (‘has lasted’). Once he is sure that she is alive, he asks her if she loves him, to which she replies ‘I love you’; he then asks if she trusts him and also positively answers to that question. Once that has been settled, the two of them hurry out of the apartment through the corridor to escape the impending hunt that Rachel will be subjected to. As they move along Deckard encounters a small tinfoil unicorn sitting on the ground. This moment serves as the hinge point of the text as it is both attaching the various versions as each has this moment in their version, but it also serves as a detachment in some ways. The primary detachment is that this moment in the F/PS makes itself distinct from the filmed version by omitting the Gaff speech from the previous scene. Instead, the script notes, “It’s the tiny unicorn made of tinfoil…Gaff’s gauntlet” (135). The usage of the word gauntlet implies a challenge made by Gaff and Deckard’s acceptance or acknowledgment of the hunt that will so occur. The word gauntlet in the script notes foreshadows the unique ending that is expressed in this version, which is a mix between the “happy ending” and a different complicated one. In the ending of this version of the text, Deckard and Rachel manage to make it out of the city and are seen riding through nature, with the two of them looking at each other and hoping to enjoy their time alive together. However, there is an interesting twist to this ending as the script indicates that Gaff is in “hot pursuit” of the two them, clearly marking them as fugitive figures and keeps the film slightly in the discourse of action science fiction films. This ending, however, is contradictory to the rest of the story itself as there is in fact very little adventure escapades and more philosophical murmurings about authenticity.
Finally, there is another critical aspect to the F/PS, the inserted Deckard epilogue that looks to confirm the text to a more traditional “blockbuster” discourse. This dialogue continues the trend of this particular version of having a lack of clear category of Deckard as human or replicant. The final speech is as follows:

I knew it on the roof that night. We were brothers, Roy Batty and I! Combat models of the highest order. We had fought in wars not yet dreamed of… in vast nightmares still unnamed. We were the new people… Roy and me and Rachael! We were made for this world. It was ours! (138)
While many critics panned the initial filmed versions of Blade Runner (WP and TC) for its vagueness and unclear resolve, this initial ending presents a clear indication that Deckard is more than likely a replicant as he all but says it so himself. In the genesis of this text, the ending was in constant motion and seemingly resolved with the final two iterations (DC and FC) finally removing the happy ending. This initial script moment presents the ending of BR at its infantile core as it carries with it both the seemingly happy ending and an ending that situates Deckard as a replicant and fugitive. In gaining a perspective from this earlier text, avante-text, it opens up the possibilities of interpretation as it is clear from its early stages the ending was open to both possibilities and embraced an ambiguity that was not necessarily as subtle but still present.

Although the WP version of the film chronologically occurs after the F/PS, the publically released copies share more with the ending of the script. This avante-ending presents a hybrid ending by which we usually distinguish the two major aspects of the film: a happy ending and an ambiguous ending. The ending of the films is surrounded by the authoritative figure that dictates the way in which a text is interpreted. The TC of this film comes directly out of response to the WP (which will be discussed shortly) which is often described as “‘disastrous’ at some point to emphasize how disappointing the filmmakers found the chilly reception of their meticulously crafted creation” (Shanahan 7). Bukatman notes of the reception, specifically the end, “The negative comments concentrated on narrative confusion, the film’s slow pace, and the unresolved ending, in which an elevator door closes on the fleeting Deckard and Rachel” (41). This reception to the WP forced the studio executives to return to the early screenplays and create an ending that would have mass market appeal; the result was the “happy ending” with Deckard and Rachel fleeing into nature[14], with no Gaff chasing them this time. This more “Hollywood” ending creates a more explicit romantic connection and alters the established replicant description. In this particular ending, Deckard and Rachel manage to exit the dark city of 2019 Los Angeles and enter an opposite visual image as nature they enter are filled with the pastoral land that was assumed to be destroyed in the Blade Runner world. This “forced” nature scene is only forced in the sense that the producers made it be inserted into the final version of the film, but as the F/PS indicates that possibilities were always there. In some respects the fleeing into nature, or away from the “claustrophobic” and “crowded” feeling that was intended for the film (Bukatman 63).

Even the speech that Deckard presents in this version is reminiscent of the earlier Deckard speech from the F/PS: “Gaff had been there and let her live, four years he figured, he was wrong. Tyrell had told me that Rachel was special, no termination date, I didn’t know how long we had together, who does.” The text of Blade Runner intentionally refers back to its self, an earlier version of itself, to try and mitigate the audience backlash; its primary influence was itself or the discourse of itself. Where the two ending speeches diverge is in the actual wording but not the meaning. In the F/PS version, there is an emphasis placed on Deckard, Batty, and Rachel as all being unified under the presumption that they are replicants with an ending, “[the world] was ours,” that was overtly positive, creating the sense that Deckard has hope about their future. This emphasis is carried forth in the shift to the TC, as Rick notes that Rachel is an exception to the replicant rule, although there is no true indication of that in the actual film, making it seems like his time with her will “last’ longer. The final line in this speech, “who does,” is a direct call back to Gaff’s speech, but also comes out of the F/PS’s “It was ours!”; these finals lines indicate a disregard for the law and instead actively choose to be together and be happy. The only ambiguity present in the TC ending is one’s related to plot, precisely how and when did Deckard, in fact, know that Rachel was, in fact, a different sort of replicant than the rest.

It is possible that Deckard has created a false lie, an intentional false memory, for himself to coup with the situation at hand; he is in love with a replicant, on the run from the law, and has a long future with her. Many critics have at the time of release were particularly critical of this ending of the film noting that “the tacked-on happy ending incongruent with the visual and thematic motif of the rest of the film” (Shanahan 8). This ending retrospectively has become the “worst” of the version because “instead of leaving the interpretation open to the viewer’s imagination, it furnishes the interpretation for them” (Cruz 123). While it is true that this ending does lead the viewer more inclined to read the text as Deckard not being a replicant that only becomes more explicitly true in the aftermath of the WP leak in Fairfax, CA and the sequential releases of the DC and eventually FC. It appears that it is often forgotten that there was about a ten-year gap between the TC and DC, but during that time numerous scholarship emerged out of the text and it became a cult hit.
This retrospective denial of the TC as a viable test, or as a text that is “inferior” comes directly out of what Roland Barthes describes in “Death of the Author?” where there he identifies a glamourizing of the author figure. This elevation of the author figure causes the text to become more closed in its ability to be interpreted and in the case of Blade Runner the comments made by Ridley Scott changed the perspective of the film. In several interviews when asked about the difference between the TC and DC he notes that there former was far from his intended vision, “They are two different movies. But the Director’s Cut is closer to what I was originally after” (Knapp and Kulas 92). Having these comments made public has altered the fan base to follow what the desired version is. This desire for the closest director approved, and the leak of the WP version, eventually lead to the reverting of the film’s ending to that of the WP with Deckard and Rachel exiting via the elevator that is immediately followed by the end credits. In the same way that the TC draws from its avante-text for its “happy ending,” both the DC and FC[15] look to the WP to recreate the feeling of ambiguity that was lacking in the TC. As previously mentioned, it is this version of the film’s end that the Scott had tried to envision when in the progress of making the film. The lack of closure is something closer to the uneasy feeling that the film(s) seems to be prevalent throughout the film. It is this ending that is directly connected the unicorn vision as the latter influences the former. In having the unicorn vision present in the film, the act of Gaff creating a tiny unicorn would “proves” Gaff “knows the contents of Deckard’s dream” (Shanahan 15). This then mirror’s the interaction that Deckard has with Rachel when she enters his home, and he reveals that she is a replicant by showing her that she has implanted memories through the reveal of secrets she never confided in anyone. This reveal appears in each version of the text as it is crucial to the development of the film’s ending; the tension that occurs in having Deckard a human (?) and Rachel, a replicant, fall in love. The unicorn scene only appears in the DC and FC which correlates with the ambiguous ending. However, within these two different cuts, the unicorn scene went through drastic shifts.

The scene, whose descriptions changes back and forth from dream to vision, begins with Deckard laying on the piano playing a single key lamenting his decision to reveal Rachel’s replicant secret[16]. While Deckard lays there in his existential angst, the progression of the text takes two routes in the filmed versions; the first is to simply have Deckard miraculously have an epiphany about the photographs (WP and TC) or include the unicorn vision which helps give context to the decision to start examining the photos. This vision has changed in the fifteen years between DC and FC and alters the way that the ending is read without having an explicitly change in the ending. The first unicorn vision occurs a hazy dream that fades from Deckard playing piano into an empty forest like environment where a unicorn appears. This moment is particularly jarring not because of the “fantastical” elements that are the unicorn creature, but because it is the first non-mechanical animal. Additionally, this is only moment in the DC and FC where some sense of nature finally appears[17]. As Bukatman notes of the film, “world features a profusion of simulations: synthetic animals, giant viewscreens, replicants, memory implants and faked photos are only some of them… There is no nature in Blade Runner” (19). In a sense, Baukatman is correct because in the world of Los Angeles there is no visual “green” nature as the world has flung into chaos. From a more philosophical position, there is no natural being as the distinction between human and replicant is constantly being blurred, particularly in the non-happy ending versions of the film. The other way in which nature does not exist is by way of the natural; nothing in the entire discourse of BR is natural.[18] Every aspect of the text is in relation to another, as the characters cannot be fully defined as only one thing (human or replicant) and the text itself is unnatural as it is always in flux and reference to its self and other texts. In the same interview with Sammon where Scott mentions that the different cuts of BR are different movies, he also touches upon the idea of nature, “What I find interesting about that unicorn scene is that while so much has been made by the critics of the unicorn, they’ve missed the wider issue. It is not the unicorn itself which is important. It’s the landscape around it—the green landscape—they should be noticing” (92). The importance that Scott places on the green landscape presents a possibility of something that seems improbable in the world of BR. In Scott’s reading and construction of the text having a green landscape in Deckard’s memories helps signal that he is a replicant. From all the textual evidence presented in the film(s), the only way that sort of fantastical nature could be possible is away from the city or created as an image of desire. However, the green landscape that the film presents is one that is greyscaled and perhaps decaying signaling that even in the natural space the BR atmosphere, the feeling of uncertainty, remains intact.

This “natural” moment in the Blade Runner is another one that is in progress as it grows into something slightly different in the FC which helps alter the reading of the text. In response to the (then) “new” ending of the DC cut, Scott is asked about the connection between the “living” unicorn in the dream/vision and the tinfoil one that Deckard finds at the end. His logic was that it by having the two unicorn line up it would make the reading of Deckard as a replicant much easier, “Gaff’s message…I know your innermost thoughts. Therefore you’re a replicant” (Knapp and Kulas 111). However, this reading is problematic because Deckard lacks nearly all the “advanced” characteristic traits that are attributed towards replicants. In response to this is, “Unless he’s a more sophisticated replicant and has a spiritual implant. And is a Nexus-7” (112). This claim creates an even larger differing among the characters and in some ways does what the text does; the claims elevate Deckard to an even higher status[19], but the text in all its progression attempts to bring Deckard to an even level with those who are considered beneath him. Deckard is the premier example of the BR discourse as it is “deeply concerned with the making and unmaking of selves” (Bukatman 19). As the text is always in progress and always looking back, like that of Benjamin’s Angel of History, it has decentered itself from a set reading; there is no original Blade Runner.
The FC’s altered unicorn vision is situated more in line with the intention that Scott spoke about in the interviewer with Sammon. The scene shifts towards a more “spiritual” vision as the dreamlike aspect disappears. While Deckard is laying on the piano, instead of fading into the unicorn sequence, the FC closes in on Deckard’s face and as he closes his eye the screen shifts to the vision. In this vision, the sequence is extended and there is initially the empty forest, and the viewer can see the unicorn start to emerge from off-screen. The film then shifts back to Deckard’s face, still laying there with a look of panic as if he is possessed before switching back to the vision. In the second half of the vision, the unicorn continues onwards and eventually closes in on the camera before passing past the screen. The screen then shifts back to Deckard sitting there before gathering the photos for the examination. The change in the way that this vision is presented creates a less ambiguous ending. Where the ending was once similar to that of a fading dream, has now become a mechanical transmission in his mind. It is as if there were a switch or activation code that forces Deckard to confront the imagined creature. Scott takes full advantage of the opportunity presented to create an artificial nature to further his cause in building the argument that Deckard is, in fact, a replicant. This change makes the ending of the film, with the tinfoil unicorn, a more direct moment because it would mean in that instance where Deckard pauses and then nods his head would be an acknowledgment of his status as a replicant. Ultimately, the discussion of nature, or non-nature, is one that reveals itself to be clouded in a fog of uncertainty and this is a shared trait with MWS’s Frankenstein.

While these two categories of endings (happy ending without the unicorn and replicant ending with the unicorn) are the center of most discussion regarding this film, the third ambiguous version is the WP version that lacks both the unicorn and a happy ending. The WP maintains through its end the sense of ambiguity and confusion that surrounds the film. Although this version is the same as the Denver/Dallas showing which were panned by its select audience for being “too confusing” and “bleak” and the film did not maintain atmospheric consistency (Kolb 141). In this sense, the WP then is the most accurate representation from the book and the most open of the version because it requires the most rigor to make a claim. This version of the text is the most evenly authored version as there was not one specific authority figure who overshadowed itself development and release into the world. In fact, this version became a work of its own that countered and confronted its creators, “Terry Rawlings reports that after viewing the first edit of Blade Runner…the director turned to him and said, ‘God, it’s marvelous. What the fuck does it all mean” (Sammon 268)? This response by Scott invokes the inner Victor Frankenstein as a question of the uncertainty of what do to do with the creature is put forth. However, unlike Frankenstein, Scott displays a sense of joy in his creation and resonates with the confusion that it embarks. At this moment the text has become almost sentient, genetic, and retrospectively this version serves as a centering of all the texts that come before it and after it.

Within its content and form, all other versions of the texts can be traced to the WP and its demand of its viewer (which includes its creators) to try and discover the meaning makes it a crucial text to be examined on its and not as a supplemental work. In this version of the text, the author intended meanings do not appear to be clear-cut as it as the others making it open to interpretation and not having a set moral agenda. In this way, it mirrors the initial version of the 1818 version of Frankenstein where there is a set moral intention is left unclear. Anne K. Miller notes that “In the 1818 text, Frankenstein’s free will, his capacity for meaningful moral choice is paramount…But in the fatalistic and surprisingly unChristian version of the 1831 edition, such moral choices are denied to him” (16). In the 1818 version, when recalling his direction towards the natural philosophies, Frankenstein states “Neither of us possessed the slightest preeminence over the other; the voice of command was never heard amongst us” (25) and was radically changed to: “It was a strong effort of the spirit of good, but it was ineffectual. Destiny was too potent, and her immutable laws had decreed my utter and terrible destruction” (23) in the 1831 edition. This shift to the second edition makes it clear that there is a moral issue explicitly at hand and that Victor has committed a “natural” sin out that almost seems out of his control. This is in contrast to the 1818 version where Victor’s “crime” is something that is not explicitly made clear is a sin. In the preface to the 1831 edition, MWS states that “I will add but one word as to the alterations I have made. They are principally those of style. I have changed no portion the story nor introduced any new ideas or circumstances” (x)[20]. She claims that those small changes do not interfere with the story of the text, and she is correct in the sense that the skeleton of the plot still intact, but the tone changes the reading of Frankenstein. With these stylistic changes in the novel now, it takes away interpretation of the audience and elevates the author. These shift in direction were in part due to external influence, most notably the deaths of Percy and her children, as well as the reaction to her being a female writer at this time. The external factors that influenced this change are the same as in the discourse of Blade Runner (with the studio and director changes).

Blade Runner then suffers from the same situation that Frankenstein had/has in regards to decisions that need to be made by readers and scholars. Mellor in her examination of both versions[21] concludes that “For students who have time to consult only one text, the 1818 text alone presents a stable and coherent conception of the character of Victor Frankenstein and Mary Shelley’s political and moral ideology” (211). Although it is difficult to state that the text is stable because it is always in progress and cannot fully present the discourse of Frankenstein, but it does give the reader the initial atmosphere and feeling that is essential to Frankenstein without the hand of the author guiding the narrative. Currently, the 1818 edition has become the standard in the university classroom and among scholars,[22] which in some ways fulfills Barthes proclaim at the end of “The Death of the Author” with “the birth of the reader must be required by the death of the Author” (55). Although in genetic criticism and both these texts, do not die or even disregard for the author. However, the birth or elevation of the reader is necessary and to fully give these readers more agency is to allow them access to not only the avante-texte¬ and allow them the opportunity to select the most appropriate iteration of the text. With this proclamation in mind, it is necessary to perceive and interpret the WP edition of Blade Runner as an independent, functionally and valued cut of the BR discourse. The same description that Mellor claims of the 1818 edition are true of the WP; the story is still the same, the blurring of man and machine is just as present (and more powerful without the added markers), and the ethical questions that arise with that blurring. Although the WP is not stable, it is a foundational part of the progression in the discourse and text of Blade Runner that has been relegated to a secondary position. Every version of the published Blade Runner is in direct conversation with the WP version. This interrelation of texts is what Julia Kristeva calls intertextuality which is the manner in which a text is constructed out of already existent discourses” (Allen 35). There is an intertextuality of Blade Runner both with itself and with Frankenstein as it is a direct descent of that text; in both its thematic and textual sense and in its historical production. The connection between the two also occurs in the literal sense of intertextuality as Mellor notes of Frankenstein (and its relation to the concept of intertextuality), “Frankenstein exemplifies what Julia Kristeva has called ‘the questionable subject-in-process,’ both a text and an author without stable boundaries” (211). Blade Runner has an instability because all the texts it comes out of are unstable creating a continual in progress.

This notion of intertextuality in relation to the examination of the avante-text of work creates an instability not just for the text itself but its “author” as well. The two discourses of these texts are entangled with questions of authentic authorship. Frankenstein’s literary history has been in part a conversation about how much of the text needs to be attributed to PBS. However, as noted earlier, this discussion has changed to give MWS back her agency and give her authorship. As Robinson, “All evidence presented in this essay, both from the manuscript itself and from Shelley’s letters and journals (as well as from records of their contemporaries) leads us to conclude that it is MWS’s novel with corrections and additions by PBS” (135-6). There is the acknowledgment of assistance in the authoring of the text but not its full creation. As noted in the genetic criticism section of the paper, BR has a difficult time singling out one author to give credit; although in the case of film the director is often given credit.

These multiple contributors are in all in a sense authors of the given discourse of the text; “Authors do not create their texts from their own original minds, but rather compile them from pre-existent texts” (Allen 35). Each of these of these texts is indebted to a legacy of works that came before them that helped directly shape the text. Blade Runner comes directly out of Frankenstein as much it comes out of France’s Heavy Metal[23] comics and PKD’s Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep? Therefore BR, by lineage, comes is a distant descendant of PBS, Lord Byron, MWS’s parents, and even the French collection Tales of the Dead just like Frankenstein[24]. It would be problematic to take away the agency and effort that these author’s make, but it is evident that these external forces have a grand input and influence on these texts. Rather, it is fair to say that all texts, through the notion of intertextuality, are multi-authored. However, for each text, there is an architect that constructs and creates a new object from the materials presented to them. Genetic criticism always for the reader to see all, if not most, of the materials that go into the creation of a text. This allows readers to have a more full and inclusive idea behind a work of art (whether it is a written fiction or a visual piece of art) which in turn allows for new possibilities understanding and interpretation. Blade Runner is a text that has allowed for the spirit of Frankenstein to continue over the span of a hundred plus years after its first appearance. Although it does not set forth create any straightforward answer about the direction the relationship between these texts, it does manage to show, through the example of Frankenstein, that there is a necessity for acknowledgment and inclusion of the avante-texts in scholarship moving forward; in particular the WP version in the case of BR. Michael Groden quotes Luca Crispi and Sam Slote’s sentiment that “genetic criticism cannot provide an answer or a key to the works but ‘should help make the questions more interesting'” (233). By being aware of and consciously taking into consideration texts as not full but instead replication of itself and other avante-texts[25], the possibilities for readers and scholars in their thinking of the text can become both more critical and creative.

 

 

Works Cited

All Our Variant Futures: From Workprint to Final Cut Dir. Charles de Lauzirika. Blade Runner: 30th Anniversary Collection. Warner Home Video. Blu-Ray.

Brooker, Will. “All Our Variant Futures: The Many Narratives of Blade Runner: The Final Cut.”  Popular Communications. 7. (2009): Web. 10 April. 2016.  

Bukatman, Scott. Blade Runner. London; Palgrave Macmillan, 2013. Print

Barthes, Roland. “From Work to Text.” The Rustle of Language. Trans. Richard Howard. New York: Hill and Wang. 56-64. Print.

—“The Death of the Author.” The Rustle of Language. Trans. Richard Howard. New York: Hill and Wang. 49-55. Print.

Clayton, Jay. “Frankenstein’s futurity: replicants and robots.” The Cambridge Companion to Mary Shelley. Ed. Esther Schor. Cambridge: Cambridge UP, 2003. 84-99. Print.

Cruz, Décio Torres. Postmodern Metanarratives: Blade Runner and Literature in the Age of Image. New York, NY: Palgrave Macmillan, 2014. 108-20. Print.

Dangerous Days: The Making of Blade Runner. Dir. Charles de Lauzirika. Blade Runner: 30th Anniversary Collection. Warner Home Video. Blu-Ray.

De Biasi, Pierre-March. “What is a Literary Draft? Toward a Functional Typology of Genetic Documentation.” Drafts. New Haven, Conn: Yale UP. Yale French Studies, 1996. 26-58. Print.

Deppman, Daniel Ferrer, and Michael Groden Genetic “Introduction.” Criticism : Texts and Avant-textes. Philadelphia, Pa.: University of Pennsylvania Press, 2004. 17-27. Print

Desser, David. “The New Eve: The Influence of Paradise Lost and Frankenstein on Blade Runner.” Retrofitting Blade Runner: Issues in Ridley Scott’s Blade Runner and Philip K. Dick’s Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep? Ed. Judith Kerman. 2nd ed. Bowling Green, OH: Bowling Green State U Popular, 1991. 53-65. Print.

Francher, Hampton and David Peoples. Blade Runner. Revised Script. February 1981. University of Alabama Libraries. Print.

Graham, Allen. Intertextuality. New York: Routledge. The New Critical Idiom, 2000. Print.  

Groden, Michael. “Genetic Joyce: Textual Studies and the Reader.” Palgrave Advances in James Joyce Studies. Ed. Jean-Michel Rabaté. New York : Palgrave Macmillan, 2014. 227-50. Print.

Hay, Louis. “Genetic Criticism: Origins and Perspectives.” Criticism: Texts and Avant-textes. 8Philadelphia, Pa.: University of Pennsylvania Press, 2004. 28-35. Print

Knapp, Laurence F. Knapp and Andrea F. Kulas. Ridley Scott Interviews. Mississippi: UP Mississippi, 2005. Print.

Kolb, William M., ”Script to Screen: Blade Runner in Perspective.” Retrofitting Blade Runner: Issues in Ridley Scott’s Blade Runner and Philip K. Dick’s Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep? Ed. Judith Kerman. 2nd ed. Bowling Green, OH: Bowling Green State U Popular, 1997. 132-153. Print.

“Blade Runner Film Notes.” Retrofitting Blade Runner: Issues in Ridley Scott’s Blade Runner and Philip K. Dick’s Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep? Ed. Judith Kerman. 2nd ed. Bowling Green, OH: Bowling Green State U Popular, 1997. 154-177. Print.

Lussier, Mark and Kaitlin Gowan, “The Romantic Roots of Blade Runner.” The Wordsworth Circle. 43.3 (2012): 165-72. Web. 10 April. 2016.

Mellor, Anne K. “Choosing a Text of Frankenstein to Teach.” Frankenstein: The 1818 Text, Contexts, Nineteenth-century Responses, Modern Criticism. Ed. J. Paul Hunter. 2nd ed. New York: W.W. Norton, 2012. 204-11. Print. Norton Critical Edition.

—“Making a ‘monster’: an introduction to Frankenstein.” The Cambridge Companion to Mary Shelley. Ed. Esther Schor. Cambridge: Cambridge UP, 2003. 9-25. Print.

Robinson, Charles E. “Percy Bysshe Shelley’s Text(s) in Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley’s Frankenstein.” The Neglected Shelley. Ed. Alan M. Weinberg and Timothy Webb. Burlington, VT: Ashgate, 2015. 157-76. Print. The Nineteenth Century Ser.

Sammon, Paul. Future Noir: The Making of Blade Runner. New York: HarperPrism, 1996.

Scott, Ridley, dir. Blade Runner: The Final Cut. Warner Home Video, 2007. Blade Runner: 30th Anniversary Collection. Blu-Ray.

Blade Runner: The Director’s Cut. Warner Home Video, 2007. Warner Home Video, 2007. Blade Runner: 30th Anniversary Collection. Blu-Ray.

Blade Runner: Theatrical Cut. Warner Home Video, 2007. Warner Home Video, 2007. Blade Runner: 30th Anniversary Collection. Blu-Ray.

Blade Runner: The Work Print. Warner Home Video, 2007. Warner Home Video, 2007. Blade Runner: 30th Anniversary Collection. Blu-Ray.

Shanahan, Timothy. Philosophy and Blade Runner. New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2014. Print.

Shelley, Mary Wollstonecraft. Frankenstein: The 1818 Text, Contexts, Criticism. Ed. J. Paul Hunter. 2nd ed. New York: W.W. Norton, 2012. Print. Norton Critical Edition.

Frankenstein. New York: Dove Publications, 1994. Print.

Robinson, Charles E., “Texts in Search of an Editor: Reflections on The Frankenstein Notebooks and on Editorial Authority.” Frankenstein: The 1818 Text, Contexts, Nineteenth-century Responses, Modern Criticism. Ed. J. Paul Hunter. 2nd ed. New York: W.W. Norton, 2012. 198-203. Print. Norton Critical Edition.

Van Woudenberg, Maximiliaan. “The Variants and Transformations of Fantasmagoriana: Tracing a Travelling Text to the Byron-Shelley Circle.” Romanticism 20.3 (2014). 306-20. Web. April 10, 2016.

 

Notes

[1] Retrofitting Blade Runner: Issues in Ridley Scott’s Blade Runner and Philp K. Dick’s Do Androids (the first edition released in 1991 and revised to consider the Director’s Cut in 1997).

[2] In the Cambridge Companion to Mary Shelley there are entire large sections dedicated to the connection to Blade Runneri.  

[3] These two words are used separately based on the version of Blade Runner being watched.

[4] When using the word text, it is in refer to what Roland Barthes describes in “From Work to Text.” Rather than a single work or type of writing being categorized as a “text,” he highlights the difference between what he considers a text and what he calls a work. In his (re)defining of text, he notes that “the text is held in language: it exists only when caught up in a discourse…the Text is experienced only in an activity, in a production” (58-9). Rather than being a completed product, the text is that which helps constitute a work/creation. Barthes goes on to precisely say that, “The text is plural. This does not mean only that it has several meanings but that it fulfills the very plurality of meaning: an irreducible (and not just acceptable) plurality” (59).

[5] See Paul Sammon’s Future Noir.

[6] A term that was borrowed from William Burroughs’s story of the same name about the stealing of medical supplies. Ridley Scott loved the name and the rights to the story were bought in order to use the name for the film.

[7] It is funny note that Google’s flagship android phone series is the Nexus series.

[8] Obsolete adj. No longer used or practiced; outmoded, out of date (OED)

[9] Although the work print is publically available to the public now, it originally was only meant to stay within the studio. Additionally, it is not marketed as a cut and is instead placed on the “special features/archival” disc of the various Blade Runner box sets.

[10] Many science fiction films (The Thing, E.T., Tron, Star Trek II) came out the same year as Blade Runner, with other very influential films coming out right before (Alien and Star Wars).

[11] Although to a less extent now, there is still recent scholarship that makes the distinction clear that Percy Shelley was vital in the creation of Frankenstein, but makes sure to clarify that it is still Mary Shelley’s text (see Robinson’s “Percy Bysshe Shelley’s Text(s) in Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley’s Frankenstein” from 2015).

[12] From here on I will refer to Mary Shelley as MWS and Percy Shelley as PBS for the sake of clarity.

[13] The conversation at the moment attempts to be relatively tame because, as I have indicted throughout the paper, there is a active choice to use acknowledge the latest is the “go to” cut of the film but as I have argued each version, including the WP are nearly as valuable.

[14] The nature seen in this film is actually an unused scene taken from Stanley Kubrick’s The Shinning. In this sense, this particular version of BR is most like the actual creature from Frankenstein as it is made up of different texts/films to create the image of one film. (see Kolb, “Script to Screen” and Ridley Scott’s interview with Paul Sammon from 1996)

[15] There are no major content changes made between these two versions of the text. The most drastic change is the “recoloring” that is done in the FC it help create a more ominous and “dark” atmosphere.

[16] The scene up into this moment appears in all the version of the film except the F/PS which completely omits the piano scene and skips directly to the investigation of the photographs.

[17] As noted earlier nature also appears in the F/PS and TC in the ending scene.

[18] The use of natural is similar to the idea of “natural” that Jacques Derrida points out in Of Grammatology where a sign can independently function on its own without a connection to another sign; something “natural” as a “transcendental signifier.”

[19] Paul Sammon recalls in Dangerous Days that Scott considered the replicants a sort of supermen which differed greatly from the way that Dick saw the androids of his novel.  

[20] Shelley’s claim in her introduction to the 1831 preface are similar to the claims made about the changes made in the Final Cut, “On the face of it, the Final Cut’s intention is to clean up and close down ambiguities” (Brooker 81)

[21] She also looks at the early manuscript of the novel as well.

[22] One example being the Norton Critical Edition uses the 1818 edition of the text.

[23] “Scott told Francher to read Heavy Metal…which later allowed him to create the total environment” (Torres Cruz 130)

[24] Maximillian van Woudenber “The Variants and Transformations of Fantasmagoriana: Tracing a Travelling Text to the Byron-Shelley Circle” (2014)

[25] Because as Charles de Lauzirika states, “Blade Runner is nothing if not a film about details” and these details alter the way we view the film.