Blade Runner, the anima and the process of masculine individuation

Harrison Ford (Blade Runner, 1982) and Ryan Gosling (2049, 2017):
replicants in troubled love

Much has changed in the nearly four decades that separate the classic Hollywood movie Blade Runner (1982) from 2049 (2017).

When U.S. director Ridley Scott’s Blade Runner was released, it was a failure at the box office, probably due to its complex plot and futuristic noir aesthetics.

However, like a good wine, the film over time came to be considered one of the best ever made – to the point where its director even said he felt it was his best work.

The plot of the 1982 film: at the dawn of the 21st century in Los Angeles, the Tyrell Corporation has developed replicants who, being as (or more) intelligent and as strong as humans, are sent to colonize other planets. A riot leads them to be hunted on Earth by an elite squad, the Blade Runners, who give the film its name. By 2019, five replicants remain at large, and Officer Deckard (Harrison Ford) is ordered to hunt them down one by one. A love interest develops between the cop and the latest replica on his list, Rachael (Sean Young).

Cut to 2017, in the same Los Angeles as the 2049 movie. A new species of replicants is developed, apparently more obedient. Apparently… The Blade Runner now is K (Ryan Gosling), who comes across a secret: Rachael, despite being a replicant, had a child – the old fashioned myth of ​​a divine child behind the possible revolution against humans.

What both films have in common is that they address fundamental issues that guide human beings, with an emphasis on ethics and the search for the meaning of life.

Certain things, however, have not changed between the two films. One is the importance of the anima in the male’s life and, by extension, loving relationships.

And what is the anima in the context of Jungian analysis? In fact, the anima and the animus archetypes are one of the main contributions of the Swiss psychiatrist Carl Gustav Jung (1865-1961) to theories of human development.

Jungian psychotherapist Robert Hopcke states that “... Jung noted that behind the male conscious personality there seemed to be an unconscious feminine side with its own particular character and its own ways of acting” (HOPCKE, 2012, p. 104).

For Jung, this caring, emotional and spiritual side of a man could be perceived in his dreams, fantasies and projections, where he assumed the symbolic form of a woman.

Therefore, the anima would be the bridge between man and his creativity, his love, his soul – in short, his pleasure for life.

In the 1982 Blade Runner movie, Deckard surrenders to fantasy and runs off with Rachael, as if the prince had happily married the mermaid transformed into a human being by a witch in the tale The Little Mermaid by Danish writer Hans Christian Andersen (1805-1875).

2049, however, seems to be much more complex on this issue. Lieutenant Joshi (performed by Robin Wright), the boss of K, sends him to find and eliminate the child.

She says he is a man without a soul anyway. And she is right to a certain extent. K. has on his side Joi (interpreted by the Cuban model Ana de Armas). It is a virtual companion, a sophisticated Siri who interacts with him in real-time and transforms herself incredibly quickly to meet the wishes of her man.

In the blink of an eye, Joi adopts the persona of the perfect 1950s housewife, anchored in a pre-feminist world, to diligently prepare his dinner. Soon she becomes the contemporary, postmodern companion, who has a keen interest in hearing his answer to her question “What a difficult day, right?”

Brazilian psychotherapist Waldemar Magaldi always quotes Jung when he was asked how to choose the ideal partner: “Choose someone with whom you will still be talking 30 years from now”.

Despite being a replicant and a virtual woman, the couple interact beautifully in the art of conversation. Joi recalls that K needs a name, that is, to be removed from the indistinct ocean of the unconscious and become individualized; so she names him Joe. Symbolically reborn as Joe, K. recognizes the qualities of Joi, and his struggle to make their relationship work makes him, in a sense, more himself.

However, as we all know, Joi is a just a projection. Adjusting his inner image of the anima to that of the real woman out there is one of the greatest, if not the greatest, male challenge concerning relationships.

In The Cat, a tale of feminine redemption (FRANZ, 2011), Von Franz reminds us that many women get caught in this projection web that men throw at them – meaning that it is not a real relationship, but a fantasy whose spell breaks with time.

In 2049, the issue is settled with the symbolic death of Joi. The virtual feminine side sacrifices herself (in the sense of making it sacred) so that the masculine side can become himself and ready for a real relation.

In what may be the worst scene in the movie, though, K., now as Joe, fails to evolve, so to speak. On the contrary, he has a sad death, emotionally carried out by the same song that was a highlight of the 1982 film: the death of the replicant Roy (played by Hutger Hauer).

In 1982, the death of the replicant symbolized life’s ephemerality (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=chIP3AvqLDo ). “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.”

In 2017, however, K´s death only prevents him from going out there and living a real love, with all the delights and the scars that that entails. Like Antoine de Saint-Exupéry´s Little Prince, who doesn´t want to become a grown up and lets himself be killed by a snake. Yes, nobody said it was going to be easy…

Acknowledgements

I would like to thank Bruna Camargo for the translation and John S. Bak for the English text revision

References

FRANZ, M.-L. VONZ. O gato: um conto da redenção feminina. 3. ed. São Paulo: Paulus, 2011.

HOPCKE, R. H. Guia para a obra completa de C. G. Jung. 3. ed. Petrópolis, RJ: Vozes, 2012.