P.S. I should also warn you that there will be spoilers, as this review is mostly aimed at those who have already seen this film and are looking for somebody else's opinion on it. If you didn't see the film, I'd recommend you to watch the movie anyway, even after I spoil it for you.
First thing that should be said about GITS, no matter how cliched it might be, is that it is a classic. It's a work of art. And being a work of art doesn't mean that it is absolutely perfect in every aspect. No, GITS does have its shortcomings, but after you properly think about the film, none of these shortcomings are crucial to the film's message and aims. Being a work of art means that the movie is perfect in the way that matters, and that it achieves its set goals and purposes. You won't hear anyone talking bad about, say, Crime and Punishment just because there isn't a thrilling plot or some great mysteries, because the book isn't about that. And even though it does have an interesting and suspenseful plot, in the end Ghost in the Shell isn't about crime fighting or counter-cyberterrorism.
No, Ghost in the Shell is, first and foremost, an ode to transhumanism and a philosophical work that centres on issues of identity and finding an answer to one's existential questions in a world where you can't be sure that your identity is even "yours". But before I dive into the real substance of the movie, I'd rather take care of the technical side of things.
One of the more important things that should be stressed when reviewing GITS, is that it's largely a visual experience. Indeed, this is one of the most atmospheric, most visually stunning movies EVER, including all Western animated movies. What's so special about GITS's visuals? Well, for starters, every single shot in the movie was made with great care and effort. The amount of detail on most frames is amazing - even when we're in the middle of an intense action scene ( where most other animated movies tend to cut corners on backgrounds, features etc. ), the movie keeps the same level of detail and clarity that's present in the more artsy and slow paced scenes. Newport City, where the story takes place, was modeled after Hong Kong, and the production crew made a trip to Hong Kong and shot a bunch of photos which they later used to create a setting that is not only extremely cyberpunkish in appearance and style, but also quite realistic, making the whole future setting of Ghost in the Shell much more believable and "real" than the setting of such movies as Akira or Blade Runner ( which was a clear inspiration not only for the visual style of GITS, but the cyberpunk genre in general ). In the middle of the movie there is a whole scene, several minutes long, with no dialogue or plot whatsoever, just a number of sequences and shots depicting a depressing, somewhat run-down, claustrophobic and oppressive place in which the story takes place. The scenes immerse you in the futuristic world where extreme poverty and depravity are juxtaposed to the shiny, glass-covered and a bit surreal corporate world of office towers, neon signs and luxurious shops.
Just like the style, the animation and graphics of GITS are top-notch. Keeping the sense of realism established by the style and graphics, the animation team has put a lot of effort into making the motions and effects as realistic as possible - objects fall or fly so naturally, you can almost "feel" their mass, human motion is fluid and natural... I'll give you an example of how much thought and effort was put in this movie - there's a scene in which Motoko confronts a criminal while wearing her termo-optic camouflage ( invisibility cloak ). The scene takes place in shallow water, and while she is invisible, her shadow can be seen on the bottom; her camouflage only deflects the light, giving an illusion of invisibility, but there's still a physical object blocking the sunlight.
Character designs are great, fitting the personalities of each of them; Motoko and Batou, who are both cyborgs, mostly have an expressionless, robotic appearance.
This is especially true for Motoko, who has a fully cybernetic body, with only her brain remaining biological. It is important to note that there's a large difference in Motoko's movie incarnation and her appearance in the manga and Stand Alone Complex series. Here she has lifeless, pale green eyes as opposed to red in the manga. Also, she has a somewhat androgynous face and a masculine body, and both these characteristics are essential not only to her personality and character development, but also to one of the underlying themes of the film, which I will discuss later.
Batou, while mostly a cyborg, still retains much more of his biological body and thus more humanity than Motoko, which is reflected in him showing much more emotion than the Major, and having more facial expressions. All the other characters also have detailed, interesting and memorable designs.
Overall the visual aspects of Ghost in the Shell deserve a perfect score, and it would be worth seeing this film for the visuals alone.
But the superb visuals alone are not enough to create a truly mesmerizing experience that completely immerses the viewer into the world that you have created. In order to make the viewing experience complete, you also need a well-made and a well-timed soundtrack, and Ghost in the Shell is just as brilliant in the audio department as it is in visuals. While all the little things like gunfire, random chattering of people in the market or splashes of water are very important in creating a realistic and vibrant setting, it is Kenji Kawai’s brilliant soundtrack that gives the movie its second layer, that of a gloomy and eery future where technology warps and changes the very essence of our society and our identity. The real jewel in the sountrack’s crown is the song “Making of a Cyborg”, a haunting choral piece played during the opening credits, where we can see Motoko’s body being built and her brain placed inside of it. But this song is a lot more than just a nice-sounding piece of music; like many other things in this movie, there’s a deeper meaning and symbolism in it.
As the opening credits roll ( in form of a “rain” of green letters and numbers that was copied by the Wachowski brothers in the Matrix movies ), we see Motoko’s brain, her ghost, being lowered into the skull of her cybernetic body, her shell. After that, skin, hair and fat tissue are added to the body, and by the end of the credits, her body is fully complete. During the procedure, there are several shots of her in a fetal position, and the whole process is carried out in a way that very much resembles a birth of a human. The entire scene is meant to represent a symbolic birth, but also a kind of marriage.
The song I previously mentioned, “Making of a Cyborg”, is in fact a marital chant that is supposed to protect the newlyweds from all the evil influences and temptations. Thus, by considering both the visual and auditive aspects of the scene, we can see that it is meant to represent the “marriage” between Motoko’s mind/ghost and her body/shell. With hindsight, it can also be interpreted as foreshadowing of the union between herself and the Puppet Master.
The idea of rebirth is one of the main underlying concepts during the film, and is most obviously represented through the merger of Motoko’s mind with the Puppet Master, which results in a creation of a new, higher entity, that is at the same time both Motoko and the Puppet Master – their union changes them, but also allows them to retain all of the characteristics and traits that make them who they are ( “We will both undergo change, but there is nothing for either of us to lose” ). Being “reborn” should not be taken literally, as neither of them physically dies and is reborn, but should be interpreted more as a change. Motoko is “reborn” in a sense that she becomes a new person ( her mind/ghost changes ), just like her “first rebirth”, in which she was given a new body, changes her physically, from a biological human to a complete cyborg. The need for change is stressed on several occasions, and it is pointed out by the Puppet Master that it is in the essence of human nature to constantly change and adapt ( Motoko: “Can you guarantee that I will still be my old self?” Puppet Master: “I cannot. People change, and your longing to remain “yourself” is what ultimately limits you.” ).
The idea of change is expanded upon by both Motoko and the Puppet Master asserting that the strength lies in diversity. Early in the film, Motoko explains to one of her co-workers, Togusa, who is the most biologically human member of Section 9, that she brought him to Section 9 from the local police force because they need diversity; no matter how technologically advanced and capable the cyborg members of the unit are, a skilled hacker could theoretically incapacitate them all with a single virus, seeing as their cyberbrains all function on the same operative system. Thus, by having Togusa among them, they can retain operational capacity even during such emergencies.
The Puppet Master’s motives for wanting to merge with Motoko and create a new entity, rather than simply copying himself, are quite similar. He ( or she ) fears that a single virus could destroy all of his copies, since copying gives no originality and diversity, and opts for a union with a human instead.
Search for answers is the second main theme present in the film, and is interwoven with the ideas of rebirth and change. The pursuit of the Puppet Master changes Motoko’s psyche further, and she starts to question her own identity as a human after seeing to what extent can the person’s memories and feelings be manipulated and fabricated. While the idea of tampering with memories and the existential questions that arise from that were directly inspired by/taken from the 1982 movie “Blade Runner”, and as such aren’t as original, Ghost in the Shell provides a completely different answers and resolutions to them. While the replicants from Blade Runner yearn to become human and live longer as ordinary people, Motoko’s quest to find the answers to her own existential and metaphysical questions results in her embracing the change and pursuing the alternative means to define her own identity. During the opening credits Motoko unites with her cybernetic body, and we see her body in all its detail and complexity. During the film we can also witness all the stunning abilities of a cybernatically enhanced body – improved reflexes and perception, superhuman strength and agility... But during the climactic fight scene, Motoko is unable to defeat the armoured tank. In an attempt to open the hatch and disable the tank, she overloads her body and it gets torn apart. She falls down from the tank, broken and helpless. Her body is completely destroyed and her invisibility suit is split apart – in the beginning we saw her being built, and now we’ve made a full circle to see her broken and vulnerable. Fortunately, Batou saves her from being killed by the tank, and even though her body has been severely damaged, she remains alive. From this we can extrapolate that it isn’t her body that defines Motoko, it’s her mind, her determination to pursue her own goals and answers. She then boldly steps into the future, becoming what can be described as the next step in human evolution; she no longer needs any physical means to identify herself. This concept of humans transcending their fragile physical bodies and becoming something “more” is the essence of philosophical thought called “transhumanism” ( look it up ), and while some people might be alienated by this, it should be pointed out that the movie doesn’t shove this message down the viewer’s throat. The whole idea of the film is a quest for answers and questioning your core beliefs about what makes us human; is the essence of being human being completely biological? Maybe it’s only the brain that matters because it holds our mind, our thoughts and memories? Or maybe we should go a step further, maybe it’s only our mind, our ghost, regardless whether it resides in neurons or in the vastness of the Net? The movie merely presents its own answers to these questions, and leaves it up to the viewer to agree or disagree with them. The answer that Motoko finds does not necessarily have to answer our own questions, especially since we are not ( yet ) cyborgs and therefore cannot fully empathise with her.
I’ve already mentioned several times that the movie deals with the issues of identity, but it goes a step further than that, and also focuses more specifically on the issues of female identity. Yes, this movie has a subtle feminist message, and before you roll your eyes thinking “how can a movie with so many scenes of female nudity have any kind of feminist message?”, please allow me to elaborate.
Yes, there is a number of scenes where Motoko is nude, but if you take a closer look, you’ll see that none of them are meant to be erotic. Let us return to the opening credits; the scene opens with images of Motoko’s body still being merely muscles and bones. We can see all the complex machinery that powers the body and keeps her alive. After the body is complete, Motoko is standing nude and bare-breasted and the wind is sweeping her hair. But how can you look at her as an erotic figure when you know that under her soft skin lies the cold reality of a machine built of metal and wires, and when just a moment ago she had no eyes, skin or hair? The same goes for the final fight scene when her body breaks down – as she’s desperately trying to open the hatch, her body goes from its normal slender figure to an overly muscular one. After that her body is broken and parts of her are literally flying through the air. Coupled with the fact that she has an androgynous face and a muscular, manly figure ( thus taking away from the notion that she’s supposed to have the appearance of a playboy model to entertain the male audience ) , but also a deep and complex personality ( evident in her thoughtfulness and emotional strength ), as well as there being a few scenes like the one in the boat where Batou averts his eyes when Motoko undresses, the movie forces us to think: “Should I really be seeing her merely as a lustful figure? Isn’t it a bit misogynistic to reduce her to a mere object of sexual fantasies”. I was already asking myself these questions when I first watched this film, and after I read/heard several opinions of other people on this film, I became confident that I wasn’t reading too much into this.
You are free to disagree, but for me, the movie sends a subtle message that we should see women for who they are as persons, rather than judging them merely by their appearance.
There are several other metaphors and symbols in the film, expressed solely through visuals. Probably the most apparent of these is the wall relief from the tank-battle scene. During the scene Motoko manages to dodge the tank’s fire, but the tank continues to shoot and destroys the relief on the wall behind Motoko. The relief is in form of a tree depicting the evolution of fish ( I think ), and the tank destroys almost all of it, but the bullets run out just before it blows off the word “hominis”. The word is a genitive singular form of the latin word “homo”, which means “man”, or “human”. The metaphor of the machine destroying every other species except man can be viewed in two different ways.
One way to interpret the metaphor is as a subtle environmental message; the tank destroys all species on the relief, which can be seen as a criticism and a warning of how our technological advancement and growing economy endangers and destroys our environment, pushing many animal and plant species into extinction.
The second interpretation is much more in the spirit of the movie and was probably director’s true intention, rather than the somewhat less likely environmental message. The fact that the gunfire stops just before the word for human can be seen as a warning that our technology poses just as much of a threat to us as it is to our benefit. The idea that our technology, if not kept in check and handled responsibly, could be our demise is presented more directly by the tank itself nearly killing Motoko, but also by the actions of the Puppet Master; an extremely powerful rogue AI that is able to rewrite people’s memories and manipulate them at will. The whole technological aspect of the movie is supposed to show the viewers the infinite positive possibilities that the future holds ( after all, Motoko finds her answers in technology, sort of ), but also that there exists the other side of the coin and that while we shouldn’t restrain our technological advancement, we should also handle the technology wisely and responsibly.
Another metaphor expressed through visuals is the recurring motif of falling/sinking and jumping/emerging. The examples include the opening scene in which the Major jumps off a building, and the scene in the middle of the film where she goes scuba-diving. The motif of her sinking and then emerging to the surface is essentially the theme of rebirth I already mentioned, and the notion that one has to sink, abandon a part of their old self, before they can emerge and be “reborn” as a new person. The jump part of the motif(s) can be interpreted as a leap of faith that Motoko has to make before she merges with the Puppet Master.
If you are still with me on this review and haven’t yet been discouraged by its preposterous length, then bear with me for just a little longer, the end is near.
After all this praise on Ghost in the Shell’s technical aspects and all the intellectual sustenance, I should point out some of the shortcomings, and these are mostly related to the plot and the pacing of the movie.
The greatest problem in this film is its relatively short running time – the whole movie is only 82 minutes long. While this wouldn’t be such a problem if the movie was merely an action thriller, the fact that a large portion of the movie is made of philosophical dialogue and action scenes means that there is relatively little time left to resolve the plot points. This results in a somewhat awkward pace of the film, with short scenes of expository dialogue followed by long scenes of intense action which are in turn followed by equally long scenes featuring no plot at all ( the aforementioned sequence of cityscapes and streetlife in Newport City ). Another problem with the plot is that the technological aspects of the world in which the story takes place ( i.e.the cyberbrains ) are not directly explained, and unless you’re familiar with the manga you have to figure these things out for yourselves, which can be difficult seeing as the plot progresses very quickly during the first half of the movie and you can’t afford to dwell on such thing for too long if you want to keep up with the plot.
Likewise, the philosophical dialogue can feel unnatural given the scene and circumstances, and it takes away from the overall feeling of realism. However, this doesn’t bother me as much as it should, probably because of the nature and general atmosphere of the movie, so I can forgive them for dropping the sense of realism in order to properly frame and express the philosophical message.
Probably the greatest problem with the plot though, isn’t the pacing or the heavy philosophical dialogue, but a certain plot point that isn’t satisfactorily resolved. I’m talking about the scene where Chief Aramaki orders the Section 9 SWAT team to storm the safehouse of Colonel Malles. In the manga this scene is much, much longer and it explains the motives and aims of both Colonel Malles and the Puppet Master during this affair, thus concluding the entire case. In the film, however, they cut the scene just as the Section 9 is about to storm the place, and what happens is never explained. While the outcome of the case isn’t crucial to the second half of the film or the ending of the story, it still leaves an impression that the case in the first half is incomplete, and it confuses the viewer, who has to extrapolate what happened for himself.
And last, but not the least – the characters. Many reviewers complain about the supposed lack of character development in the film, but I find the main characters very well developed for a movie that only lasts 82 minutes.
I have already covered much of Motoko’s character over the course of the review, so I’ll just add a couple of minor things. One interesting thing about her is that she appears to be an adrenaline addict; she frequently puts herself in risky and dangerous situations like jumping off the building backwards or fighting tanks on her own rather than waiting for support ( there’s also a bit of stubbornness in that ). Her hobby, scuba-diving, clearly shows this addiction to adrenaline. It’s a very dangerous pastime considering her cybernetic body has a titanium skeleton and therefore weights hundreds of pounds, and if the floaters she’s carrying break down, her body’s weight will pull her to the bottom and she will drown. She also appears to have a somewhat laid back attitude towards her nudity, having no problem taking off her diving suit in front of Batou, although it might be that she only allows herself such freedom in front of him, since the two seem to be very close.
Batou is, after Motoko, the most developed character in the film, and serves not only as her trusted companion, but also as a contrast to her inhuman, somewhat cold and unemotional persona. While Motoko seems to have a knack for philosophy and is quite thoughtful, Batou is much more down-to-Earth and pragmatic. Even though his body is also largely cybernetic, it doesn’t make him insecure in his own identity, unlike the Major. He is much more confident in himself than she is in herself, and repeatedly has to remind Motoko that she really is human. This contrast between the characters of Motoko and Batou really plays off well and gives the movie some much needed dynamics in interactions between characters. It also appears that Batou has feelings for the Major than aren’t merely that of a colleague or even a friend, as he shows subtle signs of affection and care for her on several occasions. And even though he’s all tough and confident on the surface, when it comes to his feelings for Motoko he comes across as shy, hesitating to explain why he accompanied her on the boat when she goes diving, and then hesitating again during the final scene when new Motoko decides to leave. He also seems to have great respect for Motoko, averting his eyes when she undresses, as he respects her too much to objectify her. In fact, Batou’s character may be more developed than the Major’s.
Finally, it’s over. I apologise for dragging this review for so long, but I wanted to make it as complete as possible, and Ghost in the Shell is a movie of such scale and depth that dissecting it properly takes a lot of time. I don’t think that there’s anything more to add, so I’ll just say again: Ghost in the Shell is a work of art that every anime fan, no, everyone who likes movies and visual media in general should see. There really is no other animated movie quite like it and it deserves its rightful title as a timeless classic. If you haven’t watched it yet - what are you waiting for?
