Having just seen the movie today for the first time, I have to say this film was not what I expected based on what I'd heard. To me it was neither a cyberpunk action film, nor a profoundly philosophical look at the human condition with "so deep" undertones and underlying metaphors. Instead it was an unsettling, creepy, nightmarish, uncanny valley-esque horror film in a cyberpunk setting.
There's one thing I've come to appreciate especially from movies in the last few years, and that's atmosphere. When a movie manages to truly form a sense of place, sensibility or a certain emotion, I often end up loving them, even if the plot is weak. And this movie is one of the strongest examples of such I've yet come across. The foremost words that come to mind from this movie are dread and unease. In the same vein with films like Rosemary's Baby, and the best works of H.P. Lovecraft, Ghost in the Shell forms an air of things being just slightly twisted, off kilter, or wrong in a certain way that retains a sense of reality and place, but leaves the viewer with a lingering sensation of unease and nervousness. Throughout the movie there's a constant feeling that at any time things could go wrong in horrifying, yet unexplainable ways.
It's hard to list all the things that come together to create this. It's a sum of many parts: Mokoto's slightly dead eyes. The lack of music, and when it's used, it's to a hauntingly jarring effect, like in the battle scene in the abandoned museum. The way the characters talk: at first it feels completely unnatural, with the characters seemingly explaining the plot and world to each other in completely inorganic ways, but then you remember that these characters are by definition inorganic. The film being mostly coated in steely, cold blues and unnatural neon lights. The very strong evoking of the uncanny valley in both visuals and story: the short scene of the hacker being interrogated, and having been implanted with fake memories instilled a level of unease I haven't felt in movies for years. Or at the end when the dead-eyed, mutilated corpse of a beautiful young woman starts talking in the voice of an old man.
After finishing the film I thought about reading the manga, but the more I think about it, the less I want to. Not having known very much about the film prior to viewing, and even less about the source material, I'm kind of tempted to leave it that way. I fear that getting the proper context, as well as the "before and after" of this story would in a way ruin the experience of the film. There's a certain intrigue to looking at the film as a complete standalone: like a relic from an alien world that somehow made its way to earth.
These are some initial thoughts I just wanted to throw out. We followed the film up with the first episode of Serial Experiments Lain, about which my friend had been raving for years, and which lives the same vein of strange creepiness. After watching it I finally realized that I utterly adore these kind of fictional works that give off this sense of irrational dread that leaves you shivering for days, yet unable to explain what about it is so jarring and repellant.
What the film certainly got me thinking about was that why of all films was this made into a hundred million dollar Hollywood blockbuster. Aside from the action scenes, and a few setpiece moments, I don't really get what there is to be improved about this film with a larger production behind it. Maybe it was just for the visual flair, and the fact that Hollywood will dig up any brand recognition it can find. But as the film stands, it's already essentially perfect in its presentation.
There's one thing I've come to appreciate especially from movies in the last few years, and that's atmosphere. When a movie manages to truly form a sense of place, sensibility or a certain emotion, I often end up loving them, even if the plot is weak. And this movie is one of the strongest examples of such I've yet come across. The foremost words that come to mind from this movie are dread and unease. In the same vein with films like Rosemary's Baby, and the best works of H.P. Lovecraft, Ghost in the Shell forms an air of things being just slightly twisted, off kilter, or wrong in a certain way that retains a sense of reality and place, but leaves the viewer with a lingering sensation of unease and nervousness. Throughout the movie there's a constant feeling that at any time things could go wrong in horrifying, yet unexplainable ways.
It's hard to list all the things that come together to create this. It's a sum of many parts: Mokoto's slightly dead eyes. The lack of music, and when it's used, it's to a hauntingly jarring effect, like in the battle scene in the abandoned museum. The way the characters talk: at first it feels completely unnatural, with the characters seemingly explaining the plot and world to each other in completely inorganic ways, but then you remember that these characters are by definition inorganic. The film being mostly coated in steely, cold blues and unnatural neon lights. The very strong evoking of the uncanny valley in both visuals and story: the short scene of the hacker being interrogated, and having been implanted with fake memories instilled a level of unease I haven't felt in movies for years. Or at the end when the dead-eyed, mutilated corpse of a beautiful young woman starts talking in the voice of an old man.
After finishing the film I thought about reading the manga, but the more I think about it, the less I want to. Not having known very much about the film prior to viewing, and even less about the source material, I'm kind of tempted to leave it that way. I fear that getting the proper context, as well as the "before and after" of this story would in a way ruin the experience of the film. There's a certain intrigue to looking at the film as a complete standalone: like a relic from an alien world that somehow made its way to earth.
These are some initial thoughts I just wanted to throw out. We followed the film up with the first episode of Serial Experiments Lain, about which my friend had been raving for years, and which lives the same vein of strange creepiness. After watching it I finally realized that I utterly adore these kind of fictional works that give off this sense of irrational dread that leaves you shivering for days, yet unable to explain what about it is so jarring and repellant.
What the film certainly got me thinking about was that why of all films was this made into a hundred million dollar Hollywood blockbuster. Aside from the action scenes, and a few setpiece moments, I don't really get what there is to be improved about this film with a larger production behind it. Maybe it was just for the visual flair, and the fact that Hollywood will dig up any brand recognition it can find. But as the film stands, it's already essentially perfect in its presentation.
