A while back, I finally overcame a harrowing level of cinematic inhibition and sat down to watch the 2017 live-action remake of Ghost in the Shell. And, looking back, despite all the buzz of the box office and critics, I was pleasantly surprised. To be sure, it wasn't the best executed or most well-written film I'd ever seen, but overall I found the finished product to be of good wholesome value. It had its flaws, as most films do, but at the end of the day I hold that this film is probably the best attempt we've had thus far at transmuting Japanese animation into American filmmaking.
The first thing that caught my attention within the first several minutes was the casting. No, I'm not talking about the Scarlett or any of the western crew, but rather the impressive catch of Japanese talent brought into the spotlight. The more-geographically accurate cast members were not only well in congruence with the original materials from the manga and the anime, but they also seemed to do the best job of capturing the essence of the roles they were assigned. Whereas the personas of the Major and Batou were diluted in some moments, I believed throughout the film that the actor playing Togusa was Togusa. He had the look, the feel, and the dialogue that showed great attention to detail in regards to source material. Even then, his performance was easily dwarfed by the clever use of Takeshi Kitano for the role of the chief. The revered actor and director of multiple crime and yakuza films brought so much energy and dimension to the role in ways that even I had not seen before, but believed wholeheartedly given the nature of the character. Dark and gritty as always, Mr. Kitano could very well have been the star of the show, had he more time to shine.
Indeed, despite the cultural master class, much of the cast, both foreign and domestic, suffered greatly from a very disjointed scripting of dialogue. We barely get any interplay between the main lead and the members of Section 9, and what little discussions we have are simple, boring, and fail to stick in the viewer's memory. This more than anything else worked to undermine the performances of Ms. Johansson and Pilou Asbaek in their respective roles as the Major and Batou. All critique of acting aside, the material they had to work with sounded excessively wooden to begin with, and I can completely understand how such scripted one-liners and allegedly deep conversation got lost in translation. Whether a fault of the writers, directors, actors, or all three, moments of good dialogue are few and far between. At the end of the day, I'm inclined to suspect the foremost is suspect.
To be sure, it's easy to see that the writing staff did do their homework in terms of story elements. Collaborating well with effects and other artistic groups, many of the iconic scenes we fans enjoyed in the original 1995 film were dutifully recreated, and stylistically reimaged in this retelling. The plot isn't impossible or convoluted, and its conflict of a shadowy corporation versus the crack government team is not lost on us who follow the franchise. At the same time, though I think they did well in trying to call back to the original, there are definitely some drop-off points. The plot, at times, almost seems a little too simple for a Ghost in the Shell flick. There's often a surface-level struggle, but nine times out of ten, there's a rich ambiguous subplot resting just below it, testing our minds and philosophies as much as our hearts. Yet in this film, the antagonists are predictable, simple, and generally uninteresting. And that's all the introspection we get.
This was most frustrating and saddening for me in the case of the most advertised villain, Hideo Kuze. In his animated incarnation, Kuze stands as one of my top ten favorite anti-heroes ever created. Mysterious, driven, and ever-questioning, the soldier turned philosopher always dances a fine line between extremism and altruism. He is multi-dimensional, intelligent, and all but on the doorstep to ascending godhood. In his animated debut, he is well portrayed in sort of Christ-like paradigm, developing a rich connection with the audience over the course of his journey. In contrast, his film counterpart is presented as frail, defunct, and struggling to safeguard what little life stirs within. Michael Pitt's performance isn't bad, mind you; in fact, he proved more than satisfactory in the visual and verbal manifestation of the character. At the same time, though the shell was intact, the substance of a truly great character was so shopped down, I earnestly wish the creators had inserted their own original persona instead.
Though I have my misgivings, I do emphasize that the film is still very much worth a watch. The visuals are breathtakingly pieced together and harken back to the original film. The acting, at times, can be very enjoyable without taking too many liberties with the characters in question. And, for an Americanized, Hollywood interpretation of a Japanese anime, the film proves surprisingly faithful to the source in several regards. If you've no interest in the content itself, the piece stands as an equally interesting social and artistic parody seldom seen today. I'd be willing to watch it again, and for those yet to see it, you may find it very well worth your time.