Since its release in 1995, Ghost in the Shell has, ironically enough, taken on a life of its own becoming a long running animated franchise expanding far beyond the borders of the original manga by Appleseed’s Masamune Shirow. Anime expert Andrew Osmond attempts to chart this unexpected legacy by looking specifically at the 1995 film with comparisons to its sequel Innocence, “upgraded” 2.0 re-release, and recent American live action adaptation with brief asides to its TV anime incarnations Stand Alone Complex and Arise.
Beginning with the film’s transition from a niche interest release in its home country to an international breakout hit, Osmond attributes much of Ghost in the Shell’s ongoing (overseas) popularity to its association (rightly or wrongly) with The Matrix. The Matrix picks up on the classic, noir-tinged trope of the stealthy female hacker in the gun toting Trinity but, as Osmond points out, the similarities largely end with the poster. Trinity, unlike Kusanagi, is soon relegated to a traditionally female supporting role whereas Kusanagi remains very much in the lead as the commander of Section 9.
Osmond then goes on to question the film’s relationship to the landmark sci-fi noir Blade Runner as well as to the cyberpunk subgenre to which it is so often attributed. Ghost in the Shell, despite sharing many thematic and aesthetic similarities, according to Osmond, differs from Blade Runner in its positive female focus rather than the noir-tinged male world of Scott’s retro-futuristic city. Osmond’s central disagreement with the cyberpunk designation is that Ghost in the Shell lacks the punk attitude usually so essential to the genre. Gibson’s Neuromancer, the iconic cyberpunk text, was indeed influenced by mid-80s punk centring on a group of youthful outsiders, but Kusanagi and Section 9 are the authority against which cyberpunk youth is often trying to rebel. Osmond argues that Akira, despite its lack of cyberspace, fits the label better because of its much more recognisably “punk” milieu of motorcycle gangs and rebellious youth. Ghost’s association with the genre, Osmond states, has more to do with its later association with the Matrix (which may not even really be cyberpunk itself) rather than any essential part of its own nature.
What Ghost in the Shell does share with the world of cyberpunk, is its generally gloomy world view influenced by classic noir, hardboiled fiction. In keeping with this, Kusanagi, as argued above, is less a Trinity-style action heroine later sidelined in favour of a male hero than a solitary detective, caught, like Deckard, inside a web of existential questioning provoked by her own dualities.
As laid out in Chapter 3, Oshii’s first contribution to the Ghost in the Shell adaptation was to raise the tone – the “cute” Kusanagi of the manga with her oversize boobs and childlike appearance was redesigned in keeping with Oshii’s more serious intentions which replaced Shirow’s goofier approach with something altogether more mature and in that regard “naturalistic”. Osmond argues that this crucial decision perhaps alienated Japanese anime fans who preferred manga-esque aesthetics, but helped to gain traction overseas precisely because it lacked the hyperfeminine character designs which had come to define Japanese animation in even in other “arthouse” leaning anime such as Satoshi Kon’s Perfect Blue.
Osmond links this same sensibility back to the film’s methods of production which involved an unprecedented investment from a foreign distributor – Manga Entertainment, which had been founded in the wake of Akira and on the assumption that there must be other explosive, adult orientated animation waiting to be discovered. Finding out that animation featuring Akira’s lavish production values was not as plentiful as hoped (or at least, the ones in the realms of affordability), Manga decided to get into producing the content they needed themselves. Though Osmond is clear that Manga did not particularly influence the film’s production beyond creative controls including storyboard approval, poster design, and music requests, their desire was for another well produced, “mature” anime with an “auteur” aesthetic to follow in Akira’s footsteps (which it eventually did). On the film’s completion, Manga’s American CEO suggested that the film was more comprehensible to Western fans because of the already familiar science fiction tropes, even going so far as to label it “an intelligent, animated Blade Runner.”
Looking more deeply into the film’s creative process, Osmond profiles the contributions not only of the film’s director, Mamoru Oshii, but also the influence of his long term screenwriter Kazunori Ito and the later involvement of composer Kenji Kawai, before finding space to spotlight individual animators whose work often goes unappreciated, as well as reflecting on the role of the (poor quality) English dub on the film’s immediate reception. Following a comprehensive overview of the franchise’s creation which was, so it seems, born with the 1995 film, Osmond ends with a few words (and lengthy review) of the recent Hollywood live action adaptation which he views as an entertaining if less thoughtful entry into the franchise. Like its heroine, Ghost in the Shell lives on in many forms and the announcement of a new, CGI addition to the franchise directed by Kenji Kamiyama – director of the most successful spin-off Stand Alone Complex, and Space Captain Harlock’s Shinji Aramaki, proves the net is vast indeed.
Ghost in the Shell is available now published by Arrow Books.