The leader of the disparate gang of mutineer Nexus-6 replicants that represent the antagonists of Ridley Scotts seminal sci-fi noir, Roy Batty is a combat model, activated on January 8th 2016, making him close to his fourth birthday by the time the events of the film occur and of course, the day of his death, the Nexus-6 replicants having been designed with an expiration date. Thats the point of their journey to Earth, a place where theyre outlawed and subject to immediate retirement, or execution: Roy has brought them there to find a way to halt or reverse that expiration, to extend their lives. Unlike the others, Roy was designed to be both physically and mentally superior to human beings, possessing a near-genius level intellect. Where other renegade replicants run around like headless chickens until a Blade Runner catches up with them, Roy has a plan: find the father of their race, their demiurge, and persuade him to cough up a cure. Were looking at a magnificent bast*rd near the end of his options, with one final plan to see carried out or die in the attempt. The police never locate Roy Batty during the course of the film, and Rick Deckard, the titular Blade Runner, doesnt come close to catching him. Hes a ghost throughout the film, always a few steps ahead, pursuing the goal of arranging an audience with his God. That plan succeeds: Batty meets Tyrell, head of the corporation that created him, but nothing can be done. The date of their demise is set in stone. Roy Batty kills God with his bare hands, and then hunts Deckard, the man whos killed four of his friends but hasnt even laid eyes upon him. Thats when you realise, if you havent already Deckard isnt the hero, Roy is. If Blade Runner is a tract, persuading the viewer that replicants are people too, then Deckards a state-sponsored assassin. Roy is the man with the plan, defeating all of his enemies, smart, powerful, charismatic and compelling. Roy gets the magnificent, uplifting death scene, speaking poetry into his last dark night: Deckard just lies there, a literal footnote.
Professional writer, punk werewolf and nesting place for starfish. Obsessed with squid, spirals and story. I publish short weird fiction online at desincarne.com, and tweet nonsense under the name Jack The Bodiless. You can follow me all you like, just don't touch my stuff.
