Certain films have been analyzed by critics, theoreticians and fans more than or as much as Blade Runner, but I know of no movie that has been tinkered with by its maker after its original theatrical release to the same degree and over such a long period of time. Sir Ridley Scott (yes, Helen Mirren knighted him in 2002) can’t help himself. He’s back to fiddling with the sci-fi classic, this time with the blessing of Warner Bros. on the occasion of its 25th anniversary in advance of a one-week run at New York’s venerable Ziegfeld Theater and the December 18th DVD release. Three different editions will actually be hit the street on that auspicious Tuesday: a two-disc “Special Edition,” a four-disc “Collector’s Edition” and a five-disc “Ultimate Collector’s Edition” (each priced accordingly, of course).

Film cognoscenti came out in force to see the fruits of Ridley’s fussing—titled, with some self-aware humor, Blade Runner: The Final Cut—at the New York Film Festival press and industry screening. The public screening and a panel discussion held last Saturday, the second day of the fest, were also well attended. The majority of those in the press crowd, myself included, approached it as a curiosity, an opportunity to watch a near-great and massively influential film in the proper technical conditions. Unless they had to cover it for a presumably niche (read; geeky) outlet, however, few planned on poring over it and examining the ways in which it differed from the other versions. For one thing, everyone was too busy; for another, it doesn’t differ all that much. (Even as I type, someone is preparing to catch me out for missing some obvious major difference or, since there really aren’t any, to argue how some minor change is hugely significant. I stand embarrassed and corrected in advance, so don’t bother.)

According to the festival blurb, “To commemorate its 25th anniversary, Scott has gone back, corrected a few details and fashioned a version that he feels is closest to what he had originally intended.” Even knowing that he lost control of the film prior to the 1982 release, are we to imagine this process is like a constitutional lawyer or jurist taking another crack at construing the intent of the Founding Fathers when they were writing that vital document many, many generations ago? Is Sir Ridley attempting to recall what he intended back in the early 1980s? Or has that remained static in his own mind and thus vulnerable to a definitive cut, provided he found the time, money and tools to do the necessary renovations? Surely, it’s more the case that he’s been dissatisfied with both his original intent and execution. Rather than trying recapture and then get the movie to conform to some original vision, he’s simply trying to improve upon it. He wants to make it better, plain and simple.

I guess the choice of the word “closest” in the description quoted above shows that Scott and the festival programmers know that getting back to some original intent is impossible. You have to admire his persistence, not to mention his talent, and he’s welcome to do whatever he wants with the movie as long as the copyright holder agrees. Still, the question remains why it’s so important for Scott to get closer to his original intent, to make changes at all, to try and make it better. I can’t help feeling he’s playing God and Moses in this scenario, which would imply he thinks his film is the Ten Commandments. A better analogy, one more appropriate to the movie’s theme, is to see Sir Ridley as Dr. Frankenstein and Blade Runner as his monster. He’s playing the mad scientist to the hilt and is the person most responsible for the movie having run amok all these years. Is he driven by guilt or a perfectionist’s ego.