Don't bash me, but I think this belongs into this thread. 

Blade Runner [director's cut] (1982 / USA / Ridley Scott)

Los Angeles 2019. We are in a future that has seemingly gone out of range, lost its scope, its proportions, maybe even its desirability. The city has 109 million inhabitants, the streets always crowded, always dark, a night that doesn't seem to end, a darkness that encompases everything. Even at day, the huge buildings, with thousands of storeys, some build like pyramids, seem to engulf the whole city, the architecture swallowing the people. Cars flying through the air, bicycles on ground, a carpet of different languages and sounds that could bring the fragile composition off-balance. Yet, everything seems firmly rooted, firmly centered, everything besides the people. A faceless mass, we get introduced to loners and wanderers on a closer inspection. Drifting through life in a raging hell,which has become a calm sea, enarmed with promises of a better life on advertisement banners that span over the sky, a sky that has also become dark, a shapeless mass the same as the City. In this world which entirely depends on its exterior, that has probably already sucked out all the life that ever existed in this world, all the energy and enthusiasm - if it isn't for whoring or drinking, that is - in this world new life is being created. New life, that is, artificial one, life that is needed for an ongoing expansion, for settlements on new planets, for the good of the human race, for... - what exactly the film never makes clear. As much as everything seems possible in this future of ours, everything is restrained, rules and regulations ordering a chaos beyond control. Nevertheless control is still a factor, at least for the mighty ones, as the artificial beings they have created are not as easily to be satisfied as the humans on earth. 
The statement at the beginning of the film reads that after a rebellion of these so-called "replicants", their restrictions were intensified, allowing them a maximum lifetime of four years, because after this timelimit their emotions start getting out of line, that means developing on themselves on their own experience, that means...living, and cannot be controled any longer. These replicants that are regarded as machines only, with no rights of their own are constructed for precise purposes. Some are workers, some soldiers, some are even for pleasing its owners. But whatever their purpose may be, they are of no use to the ordinary man on the street. Forbidden to enter planet earth, they live on other planets for the usage of people who can afford them. Thus we have a class system that has officially reintroduced the ancient tradition of master and slave. Like in ancient Greece, the slave isn't a citizen, and like in fascist ideology is an "untermensch", a second-rate living being. Though build to be perfect, with capabilities that surpass those of a human being, he is nevertheless held in a prison of time and space. Maybe their constructors are afraid that they could replace mankind, that evolution could take a new turn? But of course what has been developed must be used... 
The film confronts us with a capitalist society that has clearly gone over the zenith, that has eaten itself up, and all the "progress" achieved is released into a vacuum, into a society that has lost its humanity. In the end when Dekkard - the policeman and "Blade Runner" played by Harrison Ford - is on the run, he is accompanied by a replicant in whose arms he has rediscovered a piece of it in the form of love. Overall, the film is a very strange one. The main protagonist being space and time, the location brought to us through art design and special effects that are still stunning and beautiful to behold nowadays, everything else seems to pale in comparison, is reduced to be playing the second fiddle. What is life worth in such a world? In what is seemingly a standard "film noir" plot, the stoic, cynical and disillusioned hero has to hunt down the villains and win the love of the ice-cold femme fatale, who could cost him his life but is the only person he lets close to his heart. Yet, here again the roles are reversed. The hero is actually the bad guy, though equipped with a conscience, while the villains who are first introduced as cold-blooded killers are the ones who carry hope and life with them, who actually have something to live for. Deprived of a dignified life they have nevertheless rediscovered its value. And the beautiful femme fatale is actually the most vulnerable and sensitive person, for whom the protagonist gives up his former life, after a persuasion and seduction that has been initiated and carried out by him alone. 
The excellent camera bathes this existential drama in long and huge shadows that act like an extension of the city, offering the possibility of comfort and refuge through anonymity, as well as presenting a danger that may lie hidden in their very center. The film is at its best when the outward action ceases and the camera only observes. It then starts to breathe, while the space expands into the inward. The great story, adapted from a novel by Phillip K. Dick, has been turned into a mediocre screenplay though, with its weakness most aparent in the dialogue. A lack of imagination and originality that stands in contrast to the rich textures of the landscape and doesn't bring much depth to the characters - and when it does, it seems borrowed from the book. Harrison Ford isn't exactly a revelation either, though his confusion and insecurity as an actor help in some ways to define the character. But a better actor could have accomplished much more. Nevertheless worth seeing for its timeless feel, and the philosophical implications. And if you want to see where the following science fiction films from Batman over Ghost in the shell to Matrix got most of their inspiration from, this is a good starting point.

Grade B+