Blade Runner

Author(s):  
Sean Redmond

Ridley Scott's 1982 film Blade Runner is now widely recognized as an undisputed masterwork of science-fiction cinema and one of the most influential films released in the last forty years. Yet on its original release, it was both a critical and commercial failure, criticized for its perceived prioritizing of style over content and a narrative that did not deliver the anticipated high-octane action that its star casting and large budget normally promise. How did a film that was removed from circulation within a month of its premiere come to mean so much to modern audiences and provide such a rich seam of material for film and media studies? This book excavates the many significances of the film — its breakthrough use of special effects as a narrative tool; its revolutionary representation of the future city; its treatment of racial and sexual politics; and its unique status as a text whose meaning was fundamentally altered in its re-released Director's Cut form, then further revised in a Final Cut in 2007, and what this means in an institutional context.

Blade Runner ◽  
2016 ◽  
pp. 7-12
Author(s):  
Sean Redmond

This chapter focuses on Ridley Scott's 1982 film Blade Runner that has become one of the most lauded science-fiction films ever made. It talks about academics who have written about Blade Runner in terms of its racial and sexual politics, its exploration of humanity, and of the way it challenges many of the accepted or expected codes and conventions of the science-fiction film. It also examines how Blade Runner is considered by the British Film Institute to be a 'Modern Classic' and is often one of the most written about films when it comes to science-fiction readers. The chapter analyses how Blade Runner is often used as the seminal text with which to explore the poetics and politics of the science-fiction genre. It mentions Blade Runner as one of the biggest commercial failures of the summer of 1982 for bringing in less than half the cost of its production.


2021 ◽  
Author(s):  
Nicole Starosielski

Abstract This article poses the question: what are the ends of media studies? It discusses a turn to “nature” and the elements that has pushed media studies beyond its traditional objects and subjects. While the conceptualization of environments and bodies as communicative substrates offers new avenues for media research, mediation has also been taken up in a wide range of disciplinary and intellectual contexts. Rather than establishing limits or an essential core of media studies, the article suggests that media scholars take an etic orientation and attend to the questions whose invisibility is constitutive of the field. Using the example of undersea cable systems, the article describes some of the many conceptual, institutional, and pedagogical ends of media analysis.


2016 ◽  
Vol 39 (3) ◽  
pp. 541-551 ◽  
Author(s):  
Gerd Gemünden

2021 ◽  
Author(s):  
Melissa Hergott

In the United States, science fiction film rose to prominence as a critically recognized genre in the 1950s, a decade fraught with cultural complications and contradictions and also inspired by optimism and upward trajectory. Warren Susman characterizes the period as one marked by a "dual consciousness," a time when "the fulfillment of our sweetest desires [led] inevitably to the brink of danger and damnation"; the fifties, he writes, was an age of anxiety as much as it was a time of abundance, freedom, and possibility (30). For historian David Halberstam, while a retrospective examination of the decade suggests to some a "slower, almost languid" pace, social ferment "was beginning just beneath this placid surface" (ix). Throughout the decade, notions of national security played out in conflicting ways that traversed both the public and private spheres. Science fiction, a genre that coincided with massive industry changes that saw the development of a sizable low-budget, teen-oriented independent sector, resonated deeply with such opposing and anxiety-laden articulations of both public and private security. While most previous discussions of the genre tend to focus on such concerns in their public dimension (particularly as related to political unease during the Cold War), what follows will address sci-fi' s depiction of anxieties in that other, more private realm of American society, particularly in relation to the expression of gender, sexuality, and desire. Cold War politics, the postwar consumer boom, re-entrenchment of family values and suburban home life, and industry upheavals in Hollywood are all important for understanding what is now thought of as the golden age of American science fiction film. These socio-political factors contextualize the genre's rise to prominence, its defining stylistic and thematic characteristics, and its treatment of gendered subjectivity. As we will see, while some science fiction films of the 1950s engaged or challenged cultural rhetoric related to expected norms of gendered behaviour, for the most part these films upheld the era's return to more traditional gender roles for men and women, an observation which has been taken up in the critical literature, particularly within feminist film scholarship. However, within this body of films exists a common and recurring convention that has been largely neglected by science fiction film scholars, one that warrants further study due to its implications for understanding the return to domesticity in the American postwar period. This filmic convention is the scream, a visual and aural articulation of fear expressed mostly by women (but also, and just as importantly, by men). Far from being a mere cheap gimmick employed by filmmakers alongside special effects and insatiable monsters, the scream provides valuable insight into the domestic ideologies that prevailed during the 1950s.


The first two seasons of the television series Star Trek: Discovery, the newest instalment in the long-running and influential Star Trek franchise, received media and academic attention from the moment they arrived on screen. Discovery makes several key changes to Star Trek’s well-known narrative formulae, particularly the use of more serialized storytelling, appealing to audiences’ changed viewing habits in the streaming age – and yet the storylines, in their topical nature and the broad range of socio-political issues they engage with, continue in the political vein of the franchise’s megatext. This volume brings together eighteen essays and one interview about the series, with contributions from a variety of disciplines including cultural studies, literary studies, media studies, fandom studies, history and political science. They explore representations of gender, sexuality and race, as well as topics such as shifts in storytelling and depictions of diplomacy. Examining Discovery alongside older entries into the Star Trek canon and tracing emerging continuities and changes, this volume will be an invaluable resource for all those interested in Star Trek and science fiction in the franchise era.


Author(s):  
Jon Towlson

This chapter discusses the genre and context of Steven Spielberg's Close Encounters of the Third Kind (1977). It begins by tracing the emergence of science fiction in literature and in cinema. The chapter then looks at how film serials popularised pulp science-fiction cinema in the form of rocketships, ray guns, alien invaders, evil intergalactic emperors, and damsels in distress. One can see them as the inspiration for the likes of Star Wars and the myriad superhero blockbuster movies that continue to dominate Hollywood today. In 1968, Stanley Kubrick's 2001: A Space Odyssey returned science fiction to its origins in Greek mythology. It is perhaps the first example of ‘transcendent’ science-fiction cinema, exploring the human need to place trust in a force larger than ourselves. In the early 1970s, science-fiction films were more overtly concerned with identity and environment, and how both were increasingly shaped or misshapen by technology. Meanwhile, post-9/11 has seen a move towards intelligent science fiction as a bankable commodity within Hollywood. Part of the genre's continuing appeal is, of course, the showcasing of state-of-the-art cinema technology within the sci-fi narrative. Special-effects technology has evolved in line with cinema's own development.


2021 ◽  
pp. 63-84
Author(s):  
Garrett Stewart

Metacinematic moments in screen narrative regularly turn attention back toward film’s point of material origination—from story to the conditions of its technical mediation—without turning their back either on the plot or its cultural surround. This double slant of the screen story, both back toward medial operations and outward toward some thematic interface with its social setting, is what this chapter sets out to discriminate in its “technique\text/context” articulation. Revisiting moments of medial self-acknowledgment in films from Citizen Kane through Apocalypse Now to Blade Runner 2049 prepares terms for assessing a late installment in one of Hollywood’s ongoing CGI franchise blockbusters, Marvel’s Spiderman: Far from Home (2040). In that sci-fi plot both digital technique and context implode upon the developing narrative text in the irony of an international political deception perpetrated by Hollywood-schooled VFX (visual special effects) when deployed, not on some inset screen, but in real metropolitan space.


Author(s):  
Allison de Fren

Georges Méliès (born Marie-Georges-Jean Méliès) was a French showman, illusionist, and filmmaker best known for his early silent fantasy and science fiction films, such as Trip to the Moon (1902) and Impossible Voyage (1904). While most early films were actualities, he took an innovative, non-realist approach to the medium, employing its unique capacities for altering space and time to produce allegorical and dream imagery. He is sometimes called the first cinemagician due to his pioneering work in special effects, including the stop-trick film, double exposure, split screen, dissolve, and superimposition. Méliès launched his entertainment career as a magician in the arcades of late 19th-century Paris. In 1888 he purchased the Théâtre Robert-Houdin, the most famous magic theater at the time, which came complete with stage props, illusions, automata (whose parts he used to build his first film camera), and performers, including Jeanne d’Alcy, who became his muse, long-time mistress, and second wife. The performance skills that he developed in the theater were later incorporated into filmmaking, an occupation that he began pursuing passionately after attending the première screening of the Lumière brothers’ Cinématographe at the Grand Café in 1895. A year later, he helped to found the Star Film Company and built what is considered the first film studio of the silent period, whose main stage area featured a steel frame surrounded by glass walls to capture the sunlight.


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