The first Blade Runner, released in 1982, was a masterpiece based on an great novella Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep?. At the time, few people knew of Philip K. Dick or his driving question: Can androids have consciousness? But today, this idea is commonplace. I recently read a well-thought-out article on Blade Runner 2049, the sequel. I loved lines like this:

Nostalgia is warm and cozy until it really isn’t. Once you’ve really given yourself to it, it can take a hold of you like nothing else, suffocating any seemingly new thought.

Nostalgia runs deep in the movie, but it’s a kind of “fake,” tied to implanted memories. Agent K, the main character, lives with memories that aren’t his. The nostalgia he feels for childhood, for everyday experiences, for a holographic wife… is manufactured. It’s a product, an illusion that gives depth to an artificial life. His love for her is a side effect.

The article points out that Blade Runner 2049 is textbook cyberpunk, featuring all the typical signs of a world where technology replaces humanity. But it lacks the grit, fear, and existential dread of the first movie. I agree. The prob is that Roy Batty’s iconic monologue still holds up:

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.

But now it feels almost routine. The edge has worn off. It’s like the whole question of consciousness doesn’t really matter anymore. Whether you’re a robot or a human is just a matter of perspective. So, the second Blade Runner was just a way to satisfy nostalgic fans, not an obsessive search for answers to a terrifying question. But what if nostalgia is fake?

Here is the article I quoted: Blade Runner 2049 is proof that nostalgia is bad