What do, then, Angel Heart and Blade Runner have in common? Both films deal with memory and subverted personal identity: the hero, the hard-boiled investigator, is sent on a quest (in pursuit of a former pop singer suddenly and mysteriously proclaimed dead, in the one case, and of a group of replicants at large in the Los Angeles of 2012, in the other) whose final outcome is that he himself was from the very beginning implicated in the object of his quest. In Angel Heart, the hero ascertains that the dead singer is none other than himself (in an occult ritual performed long ago, he exchanged hearts and souls with an ex-soldier who he now thinks he is). In Blade Runner, he is told that he is himself a replicant. The outcome of the quest is therefore in both cases the radical undermining of self-identity masterminded by a mysterious, allpowerful agency, in the first case the Devil himself ('Louis Cipher') , in the second case the Tyrell corporation, which succeeds in fabricating replicants who remain unaware of their replicant status, who misperceive themselves as humans. The world depicted in both films is the world in which corporate capital has succeeded in penetrating and dominating the very fantasy kernel of our being: none of our features are really 'ours'; even our memories and fantasies are artificially planted. It is as if Fredric Jameson's thesis - that postmodernism is the epoch in which capital finally colonizes the last-resort holdouts against its all-inclusive logic - were here brought to its hyperbolic conclusion. The fusion of capital and knowledge brings about a new type of proletarian, the absolute proletarian, as it were, bereft of the last pockets of private resistance: every thing, Up to the most intimate memories, is planted, so that what remains is literally the void of pure substanceless subjectivity (substanzlose Subjektivitiit Marx's definition of the proletarian). Ironically, one might say that Blade Runner is a film about the emergence of class-consciousness.