Ghost in the Shell (1995)
Dir. Mamoru Oshii
Like many people outside of Asia my introduction to non-TV anime was Akira (1988); in my case, specifically, a UK VHS edition by Manga in 1991. There was an occasional good title in the slew of OVA crap thereafter, but Ghost in the Shell (1995) was a monumental leap forward in quality.
American-born author William Gibson had popularised cyberspace a decade before in his novel Neuromancer, but the mass appeal of movies over books meant that director Mamoru Oshii's adaptation of author Masamune Shirow's manga reached a wider audience in the same genre, making it kick mainstream ass in the process. The first GitS film was a landmark release that the world of sci-fi anime fandom collectively applauded.
On paper, the story is about a team of highly trained antiterrorist and cyber-security operatives that explore the mystery and origin of a hacker known as the Puppet Master. In essence, that's a vehicle for a philosophical examination on a number of academic concepts, including self-identity; perception; the human psyche; and even questioning the existence, relevancy, and/or role of the human soul in a super-high-tech world. And that's just the surface. There's even more to discover once you really dive in.
There's a level of sophistication in the film that most other exported anime of the era lacked - at least, that's true of the titles that I was able to get a hold of. E.g., unlike the 15+ rated OVAs that flooded the market, the violence and nakedness in GitS serves a greater purpose, one that's tied to symbolism and philosophy. The opening scene is a good example. It shows Major Motoko Kusanagi, the film's main protagonist, sitting atop a skyscraper, far from the bustle below, alone with her thoughts. Except, she's not alone. She's listening also to a conversation unfolding in a room below her, overhearing an exchange that its participants would rather keep private. In addition to that, on a level that's immeasurably more intimate, are the voices of her team, Section 9, who can bypass traditional communication routes and transmit directly into her cyberbrain.
The credits scene that follows directly after that adds even more symbolism. As it tracks the progress of a cybernetic body's construction, it further sets the groundwork for the layers of perception and questioning of self that underpin the subsequent story. It's an act of creation, a kind of birth, but it's one that's tightly controlled by algorithms and mechanical processes. As the chemical skin peels away, a more recognisably human one is revealed, which is itself fake.
The next scene is Motoko slowly moving her hand - connecting the idea to the form.
But perhaps my favourite example of what makes GitS so special occurs about 30 minutes into the runtime. As Motoko travels through the city, she observes her surroundings, highlighting the interconnectedness of the narrow walkways and busy streets, and of the people that populate them. Composer Kenji Kawai's score — which is phenomenally good from beginning to end — elevates the musings on isolation and individuality that the journey presents. The result is the rare but magical harmony that exists when music and image are in perfect accord.
There are many, many more examples of why GitS is so genre-defining, but I feel that I've probably said more than enough on the subject. Pay attention to what you see and hear when viewing and you'll maybe find examples that speak just as strongly to you.
The animation by Production I.G. isn't perfect throughout, but it's mostly excellent, with movement that often feels purposeful and an attention to detail in backgrounds that help make the world feel more real. I'm glad they opted for a more realistic looking style than was in Shirow's original manga. Speaking of which, the film adapts just a small portion of the manga, but that too is a good thing. To cram any more in would have detracted from the whole.
GitS is intelligent and influential; it's overall a good place to start if you're new to anime. The pacing is a little clunky at times, but you may be too busy trying to wrap your head around the concepts on your first viewing to really care about such things. (Yes, it's better than Akira!)
As with the majority of high-profile anime, most disc versions offer a choice of audio tracks. The Japanese cast are more authentic, but the English dub has its merits for some folks, too. It's worth noting that the dub occasionally contradicts the subs, though, so a viewing of both is recommended until you settle on a personal preference. Personally, I enjoy both, which is one of only two anime films that I can say that about. Normally I go directly for subs.
I'm going to end on a personal note. Although in all likelihood they'll never read this post, I'm forever indebted to two people that I love dearly for gifting me the original Ghost in the Shell VHS (in 1996, iirc). I don't know why it was chosen, but I know neither person had a personal interest in it, or in anime. Perhaps one of them recognised the Manga logo that was placed in the top left corner - similar to the one that was on the spine of the Akira VHS that sat on my shelf. Or perhaps it was recommended to them by someone in a store. Whatever the case, thank you both. It was the right place and the right time. It's become one of my favourite films. :)
Yes, I still have the VHS, though it'll probably never be watched again because modern formats are superior in quality, but it has value to me that's more than 'vintage collectability'.
Still not convinced? No Ghost in the Shell = No Matrix. It's that simple.
Ghost in the Shell 2.0 (2008)
Dir. Mamoru Oshii
The Blu-ray of 2.0 has both versions, but the bastardised version is the main one, with the original film presented in bad quality. I wouldn't recommend relying on the release as your sole means of acquiring the original. Get the standalone Blu or 4K. Even the old DVD has a better encode of the original than 2.0 has.
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