
asks him “What the hell are you doing?” to which Grimes
replies in a matter-of-fact tone, “It’s all in the grind, Sarge.
Can’t be too fine, can’t be too coarse. Grimesy, you are
squared away.” He understands the importance of thinking
of something else just for a few moments so that he can pre-
pare for the next phase of the battle. Like most of his col-
leagues, Grimes never knows when he is beaten—despite a
horrific foot injury he resolves to carry on. Even in the foot-
ball stadium he refuses any help to walk. Sanderson looks at
him admiringly as Grimes runs into the medical tent “under
his own power.” McGregor described his character thus in an
interview: “I quite liked his [Grimes’s] arc ...somebody
[who was] terrified and descending into absolute chaos, and
then somehow, through this desire to survive, he turned out
to be a good soldier—he didn’t relent and didn’t lose his head
in there.”
References
Ken Nolan, Black Hawk Down: The Shooting Script (New York:
Newmarket Press, 2002), 25, 105, 118; Fred Schruers,“The Way We
War,” Premiere 15, no.6 (February 2002): 84.
Bibliography
“Boys’ Own Story,” Times Magazine, 12 January 2002, 16, 19–20.
MEAD, SYD (1933– )
A former designer for the Ford Motor Company, US Steel,
and Philips Electronics, Syd Mead established himself as a
“futurist” consultant working for companies such as Sony
and Chrysler and on films like BLADE RUNNER.
Originally Ridley Scott engaged Mead to design the
futuristic CARS, having read Sentinel, Mead’s book of illus-
trations. But once Scott failed to secure the services of the
designer Jean Giraud (aka Moebius), he asked Mead to
design the entire city look. IVOR POWELL, the film’s asso-
ciate producer, recalled in “The Blade Runner Chronicles,”
“we were influenced by the work of an sf illustrator called
John Harris, who has done some very nice stuff on cities of
the future. It’s really only an extension of what America is
today . . . we were doing traffic jams in the air, incredible
stuff really, things that had never been attempted before.”
Mead, in the same article, said,“We arrived at a kind of
a sociological idea which was that the city had risen up from
one, two, three story structures in the older sections . . .
That’s how we arrived at the sloped pyramidal look—essen-
tially like the foothills of a mountain range.” Twenty-five
years later Mead suggested in an interview with Ian Nathan
that the designs were conceived as “retro-deco” in line with
Scott’s intention to make a “noir-style film” in which the city
of LOS ANGELES was transformed into “a sodden and
shadowy noir hellhole ...a perpetual night ofthe damned,
illuminated by the soulless beams of advertising hoardings.”
The FILM NOIR context is very strong in Blade Run-
ner. Mead’s designs create a dark city of mean streets, moral
ambiguities, and an air of uncertainty—something that pen-
etrates the characters’ consciousness. Witness Deckard’s
(HARRISON FORD’s) struggle to retain or regain his
humanity.
The designs are distinguished by what Scott Bukatman
calls “retrofitting,” in which “a noir narrative is retrofitted
onto science fictional speculations about human definition
and development ...Retrofitting could even be a metaphor
for science fiction in general, since familiar characters and
narratives ground its extrapolations.” Blade Runner offers an
urban experience of a world of surfaces, in which everything
shines bright but proves ultimately meaningless. The film
begins with a long shot of Los Angeles, combining its indus-
trial overgrown with a panoramic view. The next shot shows
a huge puff of smoke punctuating the hellish space, which
is then reflected in a disembodied eye. The camera moves
forward to identify the headquarters of the Tyrell Corpora-
tion. After an interlude involving Leon (BRION JAMES) the
camera shows Deckard walking along the streets where there
are advertising hoardings, neon signs,“traffications,” futur-
istic costumes, and umbrella handles. A street vendor uses
an electronic microscope. Technology reigns supreme;
humanity does not matter.
Some reviewers admired Mead’s designs: John Pym of
the Financial Times described them as “perpetually rain-
swept . . . the Information Age is declining (public TV sta-
tions have graffiti on their screens) and the Devil himself
lives atop a futurist pyramid.” On the other hand, David
Robinson made the now-familiar complaint that Scott
seemed “much less concerned with the story than with visual
effects.” Blade Runner was released at a time when science
fiction—particularly CYBERPUNK—sought to construct a
new position from which humans could interface with the
global, yet hidden, realm of data circulation; a new identity
to occupy the emergent electronic sphere. The film’s heavy
metal vision strongly influenced this movement: William
Gibson, the author of Necromancer (1984), has made no
secret of Blade Runner’s impact on his work. This perhaps
helps to explain why Mead’s designs have been so influen-
tial. Scott himself was inspired by them for his 1984 com-
mercial for APPLE COMPUTERS.
References
Scott Bukatman, Blade Runner, BFI Modern Classics (London:
British Film Institute, 1997), 52; Phil Edwards and Alan McKenzie,
“The Blade Runner Chronicles,” Starburst 50 (October 1982): 22,
30; Ian Nathan, “Retro-Deco, Trash-Chic,” Empire, August 2007,
120–21; John Pym,“Blade Runner,” Financial Times, 10 September
1982, 17; David Robinson, “Blade Runner,” The Times, 10 Septem-
ber 1982, 7.
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MEAD, SYD (1933– )