Could there be anything more desperate-sounding than a director announcing an intention to direct some kind of sequel or companion piece to a cult film he made decades earlier? The presumption is that Ridley Scott‘s Son of Blade Runner will probably get made because the money is there, and not because anyone has a super-brilliant idea for a sequel.

The story’s been told and there’s nowhere to go with it. Nobody cares about Decker or the unicorn or Roy or Douglas Trumbull‘s steamy been-there, done-that Los Angeles or Sean Young‘s replicant any more. All the various cuts of this film have so saturated film-bum fanboy culture that nobody has any room for a newbie. The past is the past. Leave it there.

I know — a rebellion of the replicants. A big gang of them get together and form ranks and get their hands on guns. We want to live and somehow we’re going to find the technology that will prolong our lives! And Deckard, having accepted who and what he is, is a mole inside the system, acting like a double agent, feeding information to the rebels, etc.