A brief life spent living in fear: a fear of being hunted, a fear of death, a fear of not knowing what there is beyond the morphological and longevity standards conducive to your predetermined, objective-based existence because all you've known is running, hiding, seeking and finding but coming up empty. Benefit or hazard, the machine is capable of developing a range of emotions contingent upon memory as an amalgam of feeling and personality, Roy's fear of his memories dying with him echoing that of our own. Entirely too much beauty here spread across everything and everyone behind and in front of the lens, a dystopian metropolis drowning in neon-drenched darkness momentarily dragged into light albeit cripplingly melancholic by one of the best affirmations of central theme in genre history.