There’s still a ton of hurdles I always have to jump before I find myself actually engaged, but I’m at least a lot more willing to accept it as an moody meditation on death instead of a sci-fi noir. Because as the former, it reaches real moments of poignance and power, but as the latter it’s a borderline torturous slog. I think the incredible art design ends up hurting it because the film is at it’s best when it feels like a tone poem or a nightmare, but the incredibly detailed and completely realized world Scott built grounds it too much to be either that often. The final confrontation is so great that it almost completely redeems all that came before it, but it’s still a film that I appreciate more than I like it.
Also, as for whether or not Deckard is a Replicant: who cares? It doesn’t really change the film’s reading either way, and I’d go as far as to say the fact that it doesn’t matter IS the point of the movie in the first place. C+
Martha Marcy Nash and Young 