Ghost in the Shell

Episodes 1-3

I'm a little conflicted on whether to recommend Science SARU's impressively faithful adaptation of Masamune Shirow's 1989 cyberpunk police procedural Ghost in the Shell as a good place to start for new fans, as opposed to previous animated entries in the franchise. For fans of a certain vintage (like me), the manga, as first published in English by Dark Horse, was the obvious starting point, but it was soon followed by Mamoru Oshii's tremendously influential movie, which has arguably done more to cement the concept of what Ghost in the Shell is among the general population.

Where Oshii's movie is cerebral and philosophical, with a deliberately oppressive dark green color scheme, and often blank-faced characters pondering the nature of their own existence, the manga is a far lighter affair, full of silly humor and exaggerated facial expressions. The serious bones of the story are still there, but Oshii stripped them back for his film, succeeding in producing an example of true cinematic art, but perhaps losing a little of its soul in the process.

The differences in approach to the same material between Oshii and new director Mokochan are jarring, even from the first few seconds. Both versions begin with franchise poster girl Major Motoko Kusanagi, a total body cyborg conversion special operative, assassinating a corrupt politician before falling gracefully from an upper skyscraper window, her silhouette vanishing before the eyes of astonished onlookers, concealed by her iconic thermoptic camouflage. Where Oshii's version is dark and mysterious, enhanced by Kenji Kawai's atmospheric score, Mokochan's interpretation is bursting with light and color, accompanied by screamingly upbeat jazz. As a statement of intent to fans familiar with the franchise, it couldn't be more clear: “We're doing Ghost in the Shell our way, whether you like it or not.”

Thankfully, I like it. A lot. There are some caveats for new viewers, however. Although this adaptation maintains amazing fidelity to the source material, in an attempt to cram almost everything in, from every panel, snippet of dialogue, to even Shirow's infamously dense infodump footnotes, it's surely an overwhelming experience for those unfamiliar with the franchise. Explanations whip past in the blink of an eye, and everything is moving, all of the time. This means it's one of the most wildly kinetic thrill-rides I've ever seen in a TV anime production. The 1995 movie has some amazing action sequences, but Science SARU's approach is altogether much looser, their style like the free-form jazz of anime: experimental, wild, and unpredictable. Perhaps that's why the wonderful soundtrack suits it so well. It's not limited to jazz either – there are buzz-saw guitars, heavy rock, and symphonic orchestral compositions all thrown into the dizzyingly eclectic mix.

What has kept Ghost in the Shell relevant for almost forty years is its mix of genuinely entertaining characters, a detailed, convincing world full of just-about-plausible future tech, and a heartfelt commitment to exploring the effects of said tech on human beings, whether ground-level civilians or top-class cybernetically enhanced government operatives. It's a world where garbage men still patrol the streets clearing up black bags, where people still shop at physical markets, mothers walk their children in strollers, and cops return home totheir families after a hard day's work. Beneath the high tech veneer of internet-connected cyberbrains, AI-driven multi-ped think tanks, and cyborg bodies, there's an organic world that carries on, one with continuity to a history not unlike our own (give or take a couple of extra non-nuclear world wars).

Mokochan's take on the material rips all of the funny little details from the background of Shirow's panels and places them directly on screen. Not even Kenji Kamiyama's justly celebrated Stand Alone Complex TV series translated Shirow's world to this extent. What Stand Alone Complex did right, compared to Oshii's film, was to integrate Public Security Section 9's brightly-colored AI-powered Think Tanks to animation. Much as in the original manga, they're known as “Fuchikomas” here, colored red, as opposed to the blue “Tachikomas” in Stand Alone Complex. Regardless, they serve the same purpose, and function as a way for the story to explore the concepts of artificial intelligence. Major Kusanagi has always expressed a degree of caution towards these machines' development, and there's a particularly amusing sketch featuring them in episode three that parodies the idea of robotic insurrection. As usual, the Major is one step ahead of everyone around her, including the AIs.

These first three episodes are quite oddly structured, but that's a result of slavish fidelity to the manga's structure. Between them they adapt the first five manga chapters, including the short prologue and two other short skits. That means two full-length chapters, that could probably have been adapted as two episodes, are instead slightly clumsily spread across three. It makes for a somewhat bitty viewing experience that's better consumed all in one sitting (no matter how overwhelming) rather than weekly. This is only a ten-episode series, so the seven remaining must adapt six full chapters and a short epilogue to complete the story. Hopefully that can be achieved in a slightly more coherent structure.

One other challenge to audience understanding relates to Amazon's limited subtitling software, which frankly isn't up to the job of successfully translating such an information-dense series. The subtitled version eschews any attempt to translate the myriad on-screen text, which is sadly essential to explain some of the more esoteric technical dialogue. This is less of an issue in the English dub, as the text does receive a (blink-and-you'll-miss-it) translation. Much like with the original manga, each episode is worth watching twice in order to catch all of the details. Both casts do a great job with their performances. Maaya Sakamoto, who performs as Motoko Kusanagi, also played her in previous series ARISE, and as the child version of Kusanagi in both the 1995 movie and Stand Alone Complex. The English-language cast is entirely new to the franchise, but mostly fit their roles exceedingly well.

Movie fans will recognise many familiar story beats here, from the interactions between the core cast members of Public Security Section 9: capable leader Major Kusanagi, muscular Batou, newbie Togusa, and mature chief Aramaki, to the portentous mentions of the “Puppet Master,” who will definitely remain relevant. Even familiarity with the individual story components and characters doesn't mean this is a redundant production. This version of the Major is far more human and emotive, and as a result much more likeable (as well as unpredictable). I'm not too sure about the wisdom of giving the Fuchikomas human-like mouths, as they look kind of silly… and cursed, if I'm honest. The use of Fuchikomas in reference to the Dancing Pug meme in the third episode is hilarious and unexpected, though.

We even get more of a glimpse into Kusanagi's personal life than we have in any other animated version. She's canonically bisexual, and while Stand Alone Complex did have her girlfriends Kurutan and Ran cameo, they didn't feature to quite the same explicit degree as they do here. Episode two features a TV-friendly adaptation of the infamous censored-by-Shirow-himself-in-some-versions VR lesbian threesome scene that somehow remains almost as uncomfortably moist and shiny as the original. I mean, if you're going to do a full-on faithful Shirow adaptation, you need to include the pervy bits too, I'm afraid. Ran and Kurutan also show up later in episode three, as Ran gets a new cyborg body with Kusanagi acting as a witness (a legal requirement in this world to ensure continuity of identity during body replacement procedures), and Kurutan as nursing assistant to the oddly blue-skinned doctor. The fetish-adjacent nurse uniforms are also true to the manga. The trio's later high-spirited conversation delves into unsettling existential depths as Kusanagi expresses concerns about her own (and by extension Ran's) human identity. Such tonal incongruity is one of the things I love most about Ghost in the Shell, and so far, this gorgeous adaptation has absolutely nailed it. I'm sure its hyperactive, day-glo, wildly variable tone isn't for everyone, but as far as I'm concerned, director Mokochan seems to be precision-engineering this anime specifically for me.

Episode 1 Rating:
Episode 2 Rating:
Episode 3 Rating:

The Ghost in the Shell is currently streaming on Prime Video.