Blade Runner Five-Disc Ultimate Collector's Edition

There’s no question that Ridley Scott’s Blade Runner is a landmark accomplishment. A film of such stunning visual perfection and philosophical positing that it easily still stands today — 25 years after its initial release — as a pillar of the genre. It’s a movie (based on a story by Phillip K. Dick) that has had untold influence on both science fiction (ahem, The Matrix) and other visual mediums (i.e., music videos, fashion). What isn’t as well known, at least to causal fans, are the numerous troubles that plagued its creation and the thud of its arrival during the summer of alien love that was E.T. The futuristic noir tale of a Blade Runner (Harrison Ford, with Star Wars and Indiana Jones propelling him) tracking down a group of Replicants (machines that are, for almost all intents "more human than human”) through a lavish dystopian urban sprawl, Blade Runner has had a long, sordid history, what with the multiple versions, the debate over the voiceover (Ford hated it; Scott thought it was needed at the time but was never happy with it), the problems between the director (then fresh off of Alien) and basically everyone, including star Ford, and the divide the film engendered amongst audiences upon its release. Credit is to be given to Warner and the people behind the assembling of this awe-inspiring five-disc set (which comes in a faux brief case, with five versions, including Ridley’s new Final Cut, the original work print and an origami unicorn and toy Spinner vehicle) for not shying away from the film’s trials and tribulations. It’s a set so exhaustive and honest that its only competition may be the Alien Quadrilogy box. Through hours and hours of featurettes, literally every aspect of Blade Runner is examined in detail, and while the conflicts are downplayed in Scott’s commentary (one of many for the set), in the featurettes no punch is pulled. Scott, always a perfectionist, culture clashed with his American film crew, basically ignored star Ford, frustrated the suits with his spending and numerous takes, and micro-managed every aspect of the film. However, through great conflict comes great art and no matter which version of the film you watch, there’s no arguing with the fruits of everyone’s hard labour. The draw for long-time fans and completists is Ridley’s Final Cut, which cleans up a bunch of the film’s flaws and imperfections (Zhora’s hair during her death scene, for example), and is as pristine and polished as current technology can make it. And much like his 1992 Director’s Cut, does away with the voiceovers. Exhaustive and unquestionably lovingly compiled, this is the definitive collection on one of sci-fi’s greatest achievements.