Dangerous Days

I'm not a big film buff. I think the last time I went to the cinema was to see The Wrestler, which must be around two years ago. The only time I bought one of those "Collectors Edition" box sets of a film was for Blade Runner.

Seeing Blade Runner for the first time was a moment that hit me hard. I must have been around 13 or so, lying in bed one night when it came onto ITV, in the 'Director's Cut' version. This was a lucky turn, as it obviously meant my initial impressions weren't hindered by the lousy voiceover and the cop-out ending. Even on a portable TV, the world of Blade Runner looking staggering. Constant rain, walls of flashing screens and a sense of a constant night.

I fell in love and I think just about every piece of creative writing I did for English lessons over the next three years was in some way influenced by it, in that teenage way that you do. It created a love of sci-fi that wasn't too fantastical, 'Myths of the Near Future', as the brilliant J.G. Ballard put it. Games such as Dreamweb and Beneath a Steel Sky fell into this bracket, the former nicking Blade Runner's dystopian city setting bigtime.

The Blade Runner box contained a fair few versions of the film: the original cinematic one, a workprint, the Director's Cut and a 'Final Cut', the latter being Ridley's Scott truest vision of how it should look. Best of all is a fantastic feature length 'Making Of' documentary that tracks development from the optioning of Philip K. Dick's novella Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep? to the stressful filming and editing. All major players are here and it would seem Harrison Ford's attitude towards the film (and Scott) has mellowed over the years: perhaps he realises this was his finest acting moment.

Which reminds me that Blade Runner might be the best cast film I can think of - every player gets their role down perfectly. Particular favourites include Edward James Olmos as the enigmatic colleague of Ford's Decker, Brion James as the strong but slightly dim replicant Leon who gets to say the fab line "wake up, time to die!", and Rutger Hauer (obviously).

When I picked it up on DVD a couple of years ago, the visuals and music still knocked me back, despite the "future" it portrays now being only a decade away. Unless the science bods are being very quiet, we're nowhere near to creating 'replicant' humans or hover cars, yet it holds up on the strength of it's script, performances and themes. Plus, of course, the fact everyone can argue over the meaning of the ending, unless it's the original cinematic ending, which removes any ambiguity with sledgehammer force.