INTERVIEWS
A 700-LAYER LAYER CAKE
INTERVIEW WITH RIDLEY SCOTT
An evident love of special effects, combined with a craftsmanlike determination to tell a good story with well-drawn characters, have been the main features of Scottâs movies.
âTHE ILLUSTRATED WHOâS WHO OF THE CINEMA EDITED BY ANN LLOYD AND GRAHAM FULLER (MACMILLAN, 1983)
Ridley Scott was born in England on November 30, 1937, in South Shields, County Durham, to Elizabeth Williams and Colonel Francis Percy Scott. Originally trained as an artist and production designer, Scott began his professional directing career on early 1960âs British TV shows like 1965âs Adam Adamant Lives! He then, in 1968, with his younger brother, Tony Scott, launched an extremely fruitful film and commercial production company named Ridley Scott Associates, which saw Ridley personally directing, producing and shooting literally thousands of TV commercials. Scott next launched a feature film directing career with 1977âs The Duellists; his later feature film directorial credits include Alien (1979), Blade Runner (1982), Legend (1985), Someone to Watch Over Me (1987), Black Rain (1989), Thelma & Louise (1991), 1492: Conquest of Paradise (1992), White Squall (1996), GI Jane (1997), Gladiator (2000), Hannibal (2001), Black Hawk Down (also 2001), Matchstick Men (2003), Kingdom of Heaven (2005), A Good Year (2006), American Gangster (2007), Body of Lies (2008), Robin Hood (2008), Prometheus (2012), The Counselor, Exodus: Gods and Kings (2014), The Martian (2015), and Alien: Covenant (2017). Scott has also functioned as a seemingly inexhaustible producer on most of his feature films through his production company Scott Free, and served as an Executive Producer for many other films (such as 2017âs upcoming Murder on the Orient Express) and television series (like 2009-2016âs lauded The Good Wife, and the 2015-to-the-present Netfliix series The Man In the High Castle . . . a multi-episode series based on the novel by Philip K. Dick).
Today, due to his insanely prolific, impressively successful career, Scott is one of the United Kingdomâs most recognized and respected businessmen and film artists. So much so that on July 8, 2003, the Queen of England bestowed a knighthood upon the director during a ceremony at Londonâs Buckingham Palace. Meaning that he can now be legitimately addressed as âSir Ridley Scottâ.
As of 2017, Scottâs highest-profile films remain Alien, Thelma and Louise, Gladiator (which won five Oscars, including Best Picture), and The Martian (a popular, Matt Damon-starring, Oscar-nominated âRobinson Crusoe on Marsâ drama/comedy). Scott recently returned to his Alien roots by helming two ambitious prequelsâPrometheus and Alien: Covenantâwhich explore the origins and philosophical underpinnings of Alienâs mysterious Face-huggers, eggs and Xenomorphs.
Of course, for the purposes of this book, Ridley Scott is best known for directing 1982âs Blade Runner. Scott was also looking to direct Blade Runner 2049, the 35-years-in-the-making BR sequel, but scheduling conflicts forced him to function as an Executive Producer instead. In any event, the highly-anticipated BR 2049 (which was still in production during the writing of FNâs Revised Third Edition) is scheduled for an October 6, 2017 release.
The ensuing interview pertains only to the original Blade Runner and its legacy through 1995: Scott comments on other aspects of the filmâs continuing history within the main body of this book. What follows is an edited composite of a series of formal conversations that took place between Ridley Scott and this author on the following dates: September 10, 1980; May 15, 1981; June 12, 1982; February 17, 1994; September 22, 1994; September 13, 1995; and December 4, 1995.
PAUL M. SAMMON: Iâd like to begin with a query regarding one of Blade Runnerâs biggest question marks: the âUnicorn Sceneâ in the Directorâs Cut, that moment in the film when Harrison Ford is slumped at his piano and daydreaming about this mythical beast. Before we get into that shotâs thematic meanings, Iâd like to ask about its origins. Was it in any way influenced by Legend, the film you did after Blade Runner, which also featured unicorns?
RIDLEY SCOTT: No. That unicorn was actually filmed prior to any thought of making Legend. In fact, it was specifically shot for Blade Runner during the postproduction process. At that point in time I was editing the picture in England, at Pinewood Studios, and we were heading towards a mix. Yet I still, creatively speaking, had this blank space in my head in regards to what Deckardâs dream at the piano was going to be all about.
That was distressing, because this was an important moment for me. Iâd predetermined that that unicorn scene would be the strongest clue that Deckard, this hunter of replicants, might actually be an artificial human himself. I did feel that this dream had to be vague, indirect. I didnât mind if it remained a bit mysterious, either, so that you had to think about it. Because there is a clear thread throughout the film that would later explain it.
Anyway, I eventually realized I had to think of an image that was so personal it could only belong to an individualâs inner thoughts. And eventually I hit on a unicorn.
You mentioned the word âdream,â which is interesting. Because the way you staged that scene in Blade Runner, itâs almost as if Fordâs drifting off into a reverie.
Yeah. Well, actually, heâs pissed. Heâs drunk. On a rather strange bottle of twenty-first-century Johnny Walker Red. Which he took with him, you may remember, when he went to get his hard copy from the Esper.
Unfortunately, I donât think I really played Deckard drunk enough in that scene. What I mean by that is the Deckard character was supposed to be somewhat Marlowesque, after the Raymond Chandler antihero, you know? And Marlowe was always a little tiddly. So I thought that that scene would be a good opportunity to see our own hero a bit drunk while he was trying to work, as he was puzzling over these old photographs.
Ah, Blade Runnerâs infamous photographs. Why did you choose that particular device to associate with the filmâs replicants?
Because photographs are essentially history. Which is what these replicants donât have.
One final question regarding the replicantsâ fascination with photographsâcouldnât these snapshots also be interpreted as hard-copy analogs of the artificial memories implanted in the androids?
Definitely. Donât forget that just prior to the unicorn scene, Deckard has told Rachael that her memories are not hers. Then he gives her a couple of examples of these implants, like the spider giving birth outside her window. At which point Rachael basically breaks down and leaves Deckardâs apartment. And he feels, I guess, guilty about that process.
We next find Deckard poring over the photographs and doodling at his piano. And of course what we then do is reveal an extremely private and innermost thought of his, which is triggered by the music Deckard is playing. Now, music, in my mind at least, is a very visual medium. It can provoke intense imagery. So when Deckard kind of drifts off at that moment, I thought that the image which came into his mind ought to be something which we would otherwise never see in the movie.
I must confess that when I first saw the completed film at the San Diego preview, I felt the exclusion of the unicorn scene seriously disrupted the connections you were trying to make. I picked up on the other clues that Deckard might be a replicant-this collection of photographs, the scene where Fordâs eyes glowâbut without that specific shot of the unicorn in the woods, I felt more inclined to accept Olmosâ act of leaving behind the tinfoil unicorn as merely an indication that Gaff had come to Deckardâs apartment and decided to let Sean Young live. But then, when I saw the Directorâs Cut, the inclusion of the live unicorn made a more emotional impact. Now I could see that that tinfoil origami was a sign Gaff knew Deckardâs thoughts. So itâs almost as if there are two different movies there. In the original theatrical release, Deckard might be a replicant; in the Directorâs Cut, he is one.
They are two different movies. But the Directorâs Cut is closer to what I was originally after.
What I find interesting about that unicorn scene is that while so much has been made by the critics of the unicorn, theyâve actually missed the wider issue. It is not the unicorn itself which is important. Itâs the landscape around itâthe green landscapeâthey should be noticing.
I understand what youâre saying. But, to be fair, I can also understand the confusion. The original prints of Blade Runner did, in fact, conclude with green landscapes. Even if they were tacked-on ones.
Tacked on, as you say. By some of the producers, and by the studio. Which Iâm sure weâll talk about later.
But before that happened, my original thought had been to never show a green landscape during Blade Runner. We would only see an urban world. But I subsequently figured, since this moment of Deckard noodling at the piano offered the pictorial opportunity of a dream, why not show a unicorn? In a forest? Itâsan image thatâs so out of place with the rest of the picture that even if I only run it for three seconds, the audience will clearly understand that theyâre witnessing some sort of reverie.
Given the confusion that that unicorn has raised in some circles, Iâm not sure your faith in the audience was justified.
I know what you mean. Maybe I should amend that to say, I was sure that the part of the audience which was paying attention would understand it! [laughs]
Besides creative differences, I understand another reason the unico...