The Net Is Vast and Infinite: Ghost in the Shell (1995) Review

Director: Mamoru Oshii

Notable Cast: Atsuko Tanaka, Akio Otsuka, Iemasa Kayumi, Koichi Yamadera, Yutaka Nakano, Tamio Ohki, Tessyo Genda, Masakazu Namaki

 

There are films and stories that are meant to be franchised and serialized, and as the film industry grows and intellectual property expands, it’s always looking to mine material for the next big ‘thing.’ Perhaps one of the most fascinating franchises, though, is Ghost in the Shell. 

 

On paper, it makes sense. Cyberpunk aesthetics, a strong, layered lead character, the possibility of ensemble storytelling, and a world that demands exploration for its themes of cybercops, hackers, and political corruption. Yet, in revisiting Mamoru Oshii’s iconic 1995 anime, the film seems uninterested in using its story and characters to craft ‘episodes’ that adhere to a more mainstream narrative. Instead, he uses the manga launch point to craft a truly existential experience, philosophically analyzing the relationship between organic and inorganic, the soul and programming, and whether humanity has a future in its own destiny. 

 

Gorgeously animated, impressively written, and anxiously crafted to compel its audience to ask questions, Ghost in the Shell is the kind of film that would push its audience intellectually rather than guide them to entertainment. It’s the kind of artistic merit that makes it a science fiction icon, rising above its genre trappings and elevating it to something far more universal. It’s truly next-level filmmaking. 

 

For those looking perhaps for a more serviceable science fiction film, Ghost in the Shell does have that at its core. Oshii manages to include some instantly recognizable moments that make the film worth a watch, even if you don’t want to have a philosophical crisis. The film is littered with a decent amount of action, brief moments of brutal violence in its gun battles, a chase sequence that comes to a showdown (in front of a plethora of colorful signage networked on the sides of buildings) where its lead character sports a camouflaging ability, and a showdown with a spider-esque tank for its finale. The film is gorgeously animated, whether it's the urban landscapes and the many sequences that use water/liquids to showcase movement, or the way its characters exist within them, and the world-building is layered and dense. The characters are all charming and pop in their own ways, even secondary roles that could have easily been glossed over, and for that, the film works for general audiences as a science fiction thriller. 

 

If there is one aspect to Ghost in the Shell that would indicate how it would consistently be revisited in the 30 years since the film was released (or the manga was released prior to that) it is the world-building. The film certainly owes much to the conceptual design of Blade Runner, albeit a more visually colorful and tonally less somber version, but the design of its heroine as a member of a cybernetically enhanced police unit, known as Section 9, is ripe for exploration beyond what this film is aiming for. Ghost in the Shell rarely touches on much of its world beyond its narrative, but it uses that world as a structurally sound foundation to run with while thematically analyzing its bigger questions and delving into the psychology of its characters. 

 

For this film, Ghost in the Shell introduces its viewers to The Major, Motoko Kusanagi - voiced by Atsuko Tanaka in a role she would play essentially until her unfortunate passing in 2024, a woman whose consciousness - and perhaps soul? - is placed inside an entirely robotic body which is literally built for the audience during the credits in perhaps one of cinema’s strangest and most beautiful birthing sequences. Her team in Section 9 are all cybernetically enhanced - her partner Batou, voiced by another anime anchor Akio Otsuka, sports robot eyes, for example, and they have been tasked with hunting down a hacker known as The Puppetmaster who has seemingly found a way to ‘hack’ into the human brain. Again, on the surface, all of this feels like a great setup for the most entertaining science fiction actioner you can watch. 

 

However, Oshii seemingly has other ideas for how to approach its narrative and characters. With its runtime of under 90 minutes, it moves briskly and with intention, but this is not a film that is gunning to get to the next action sequence, new character, or big set piece. Instead, Oshii and his team aim for contemplation, taking their time in the moment rather than rushing to the next. The previously mentioned birthing sequence, for example, owes more to 2001: A Space Odyssey in its tone than anything else. This film is not about the violence, the technology, the good guys or the bad guys. It’s about understanding how we, as people, fit into the grander idea of it all. 

 

The film takes time to build up the relationship between The Major and Batou, culminating in some of the film's best moments - including The Major taking a dive into the ocean and sharing a moment with her partner on the boat, contemplating how humanity forces technological advances for the sake of more power, all the while each advancement seemingly creates more boundaries instead. The result is a dialogue exchange about her dive.

 
Batou: What the hell can you see at the bottom in that darkness?

The Major: Now it’s like we’re looking through a mirror. And what we see is a dim image.

 

In these moments, Oshii and the team are asking many philosophical questions about what it means to be human. What it means to be organic or inorganic. What it means to have a personality, soul, memories. The film’s villain can hack the human brain, making people believe in a life they have never lived, as shown in one of the opening chase sequences. The Puppetmaster’s intentions are masked by a mystery that The Major and her team need to solve. When The Major finally confronts this Puppetmaster? It’s not the action sequence that so many of these films rely on when the protagonist meets the antagonist. Instead, the film opts for a philosophical debate, which certainly suits Oshii's approach. While I might go a bit into spoiler territory here, it’s necessary to review this film to see how its themes of birth, rebirth, and cycles make it so incredible. All the contemplation of the narrative, setting, and characters leads Ghost in the Shell to end on a question rather than an answer, as the film pans over a massive urban cityscape, with the buildings, lights, roads, and waterways all looking like networking cables and circuitry. "Where does the newborn go from here? The net is vast and infinite." 

 

Ghost in the Shell is certainly one of the greatest anime films to exist. Its brilliant animation, voice work, design, and writing make it one of the best films ever made, regardless of its status as an anime film. You come for the cyberpunk art, ideas, and thrills, but you stay because the film wants you to ask more questions. You stay because Ghost in the Shell wants you to ask yourself: Am I the ghost, or am I the shell? And you stay because it doesn’t want you to find the answer. 

 

Written By Matt Malpica Reifschneider