Harrison Ford: Absent Father

WARNING: The following contains spoilers for the Star Wars, Indiana Jones and Blade Runner franchises.

As much as Harrison Ford would like you to list Jack Ryan as one of his most memorable characters, he will never break the top three. Those positions will be held, in perpetuity, by Han Solo, Indiana Jones and Rick Deckard. Ford is at his best, and his most memorable, when he plays to type. And his type, of course, is the anti-hero. Or at least it was back in the 'good old days'. In this current age of liberal conservatism, our childhood heroes are forced to make amends for their past deeds. And what better way to de-rogue a lovable rogue (or chauvinistic robot rapist/murderer) from our childhood than to reunite him with his estranged child? Many spoilers ahead.

Han Solo lived the life of a smuggler and scoundrel. Despite his misogyny and ruthlessness, he still managed to charm his way into the pants (both on and offscreen) of princess/senator Leia Organa. But nothing, not even the love of one of the most powerful women in the galaxy, could keep him from his true passion - swashbuckling. Solo could only live the domestic life for so long before returning to his footloose and carefree smuggling ways, as we learnt in Star Wars: The Force Awakens. 

After the destruction of the second Death Star and prior to the destruction of a third, larger Death Star, Solo fathered a child - Ben. Like most dads of his generation, he was never around; and he would never have returned to Leia and the Alliance/Resistance if not for unlikely coincidence. Upon the discovery that his son was on Starkiller Base, Leia convinces Han to go and get him - like he was picking him up from soccer practise, only ten years too late. Obviously, this was a terrible decision which ultimately led to Han's death. Now, I understand from a film perspective why Han had to be the one to confront Kylo Ren. But let's be honest, if they really wanted to convince Ben to return home, Leia should have been the one sent to speak to him. No emo kid is going to harm his mother, but an absent father? Han was doomed from the moment he reunited with Leia, and paid the ultimate price for being a deadbeat dad: patricide.

Indiana Jones had it all; tenure at a prestigious Ivy League college, a groovy bachelor pad, and an occupation that allowed him to take time off whenever he wanted, travel the world, pick up hot chicks, and whip and shoot whomever he pleased without fear of consequence. He was James Bond for kids, and kids loved him. But he was a terrible role model; a self-centred man with a knack for murder and an inability to commit to long term relationships. So when it came time to dust him off and roll him out for Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull, our ruthless, womanising hero had become a bumbling, ineffectual old man. He is lumbered with a son he never knew existed and who has no respect for him. To add further insult to injury, Indy is forced into participating in one of the laziest, most over-used tropes in cinematic history: an end of film wedding ceremony. The globetrotting, adventure seeking hero - tamed, domesticated and neutered for the 21st century.

Rick Deckard's nihilism is palpable. He is a solitary man, a burgeoning alcoholic and remorseless murderer. When he finds himself falling for the charms of sullen replicant Rachael, his immediate response is to take her home and get her drunk. When that fails, he locks her in his apartment and 'seduces' her under threat of violence. In the world of 1982's Blade Runner, this is romance - or so Vangelis' score would have us believe. Now, with the release of Blade Runner 2049, this scene and the events leading to it are entirely repurposed. It is implied that Deckard was 'programmed' to fall for Rachael, and designed to procreate with her - culminating in the birth of the first replicant child (not counting Battlestar Galactica). Prior to meeting his child for the first time (thirty years later), Deckard has spent his days in solitude, imbibing an endless supply of limited edition Johnny Walker Black Label The Director's Cut. These life choices are not framed as 'cool' as they were in the original. Instead, it is a kind of purgatory where he is imprisoned for his Baby Boomer shortcomings. The anti-hero, again, forced to repent for his past.

As Tyler Durden tells us in Fight Club, "We are a generation of men raised by women." Like most children from Generation X, we grew up without strong male role models in our lives, so our role models were co-opted from the media. To those of us born in the 70s, Harrison Ford was the ultimate representation of man. When people asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up, it wasn't an astronaut or a policeman or "just like my dad"; it was Indiana Jones. It's ironic then, that Han, Indiana and Deckard weren't entirely dissimilar from our own fathers and their Baby Boomer mentality (consumed by work, absent from their children's formative years, emotionally ignorant, insensitive and ego-centric) And it's even more ironic that Harrison Ford has been relegated, in his twilight years, to this role of the prodigal parent - attempting to right the wrongs of the past by reconnecting with his children when it's clearly too late. Perhaps the most telling fact of all, is that the script writers for each of these movies are themselves all men over the age of 50. The question then, is this: Is Harrison Ford doomed to play the same absent father role again and again because of our current socio-political climate, or is he merely the embodiment of his creator's own relationships (or lack of) with their children? Either way, if Blade Runner 2049 is anything to go by, it is fast becoming a tired and disappointing cliche.