Ghost in the Shell
(2017)
(SPOILERS) The original anime isn’t exactly the most
emotionally enriched of movies. Its themes are rather of the cool, cerebral
variety, particularly so with its characters’ didactic (some might say
long-winded) conversations and exposition. As such, you might have expected the
Ghost in the Shell remake, expressly
repositioning itself as a hero(ine) narrative of self-discovery and
realisation, to chart its own distinctive trajectory, perhaps even sufficiently
to succeed on its own terms. It's failure, in part, is likely because this change in direction is suggestive of
committee decision making, rather than dictated by someone with a strong idea.
And make no mistake, Ghost
in the Shell is entirely absent its own strong idea or direction. It has
plenty of ideas and decent direction (from Rupert Sanders, although most
impressive – sort of backhanded, really – is how he precisely replicates shots
from the anime, that and how he replicates action from the Wachowskis’ Matrix trilogy, who were, in turn,
hugely influence by the anime), but they’re all second or third hand by this
point. This movie’s prime window was probably 2000 at the latest, rather than
eventually crawling to the screen after a decade of development hell (perhaps
surprisingly, it was only snapped up by DreamWorks in 2008, a sign that
Spielberg isn’t as sharp as he once was, either that or he just takes a vacuum
cleaner to potential properties). Perhaps the only positive to come of this is
that it ought to put the kibosh on Warner Bros’ Akira – which has been gestating since 2002 – getting made.
I’m possibly being unnecessarily harsh. I didn’t dislike Ghost in the Shell. Moment to moment and
scene to scene there were aspects that kept my attention, and fitfully it stirs
itself with a flourish, but I was uninvested in either plot of character, and
pretty visuals – pretty, derivative visuals – can provide only so much
compensation. The screenplay, refashioned from the original, with a splattering
of elements from the Mangas, by Jamie Moss (Street
Kings), William Wheeler (the actually pretty good The Hoax, about Clifford Irving faking Howard Hughes’
autobiography) and Ehren Kruger (who counters three Transformers among his litany of achievements), ditches the AI
Puppet Master and the wheels of conspiracy within government agencies, and instead
comes up with a decidedly more mundane evil corporation (headed up by the
rather dull Peter Ferdinando; it would have been much more fun to have Michael
Wincott in the role, exercising his well-established villain chops – alas, he’s
iced in the first scene; poor old Tricky doesn’t even make it that far, his monk
was deleted).
On top of which, this is that most rote of Hollywood staples:
an origins story. The anime neglects to reveal where the Major comes from, and
she isn’t on a quest to find out. Like Alex Murphy/Robocop, she’s the first
(successful) of her kind (the comics’ Motoko character may have been, or at least one of the first, but there’s no
reference to this in the anime itself). So the plot revolves around the
protagonist, invested with fake memories, finding out who she is, to the closure
point where she is reunited with her mother (Kaori Momoi). The more abstracted
philosophising about the nature of humanity that came with the original is thus
surrendered for yet another movie about family (another current Hollywood
fave), reinforced by replacing the AI with by Michael Pitt’s Hideo Kuze (a
character outside of the 1995 film) – even the merging aspect is apparently
neglected (Kuze’s offer doesn’t appear to be taken up, although that might have
been addressed in a sequel).
This wouldn’t necessarily have been a problem if Sanders had
taken the bit between his teeth and explored where this left Major Mira
Killian, but he doesn’t. The character is only ever a void, and neither the
screenplay nor Scarlett Johansson are able to convey an inner life or process.
There’s no journey here – to use Murphy in Robocop
as an example again, particularly as both pictures end with the main character
apparently accepting their law enforcement fate – aside from a Kate Perry
moment and brief bonding with animals. Sanders must definitely cop the blame
for at least some of this – he’s so intent on fashioning the visuals that he
fails to come to grips with theme and tone. Sure, I was wowed by his replication
of shots, from the hover copters to the pursuit of a suspect down a street, of
the diligence to design (from the spider hands, to the appearance of Pilou Asbæk’s
Batou, to Mira’s body buckling under the strain of tearing apart the tank), but
it’s all on a hiding to nothing if you don’t care about what’s going on.
It’s also a problem of casting. I’m not, as I’m wont to mention
whenever she shows up in something, the greatest fan of ScarJo, although I’ll
hasten to admit when she suits a part (Under
the Skin, Her). Here, Margot
Robbie, who dropped out to make Suicide
Squad (probably a take your pick qualitatively, but definitely the better
choice in terms of bank balance) would surely have been better than blank
Scarlett. And I don’t mean blank to compliment her insightful performance as a confused
cyborg, rather to describe the lack of energy at the centre of the picture.
Sure, she fills out a flesh-coloured body stocking, but that’s about all.
Admittedly, she’s mastered some slightly robotic movements, but she moderates these
with the same slightly witless expression she employs for all her roles.
In contrast, Asbæk is note-perfect as Batou; he understands
the level at which this should be played in a way no one else – not the star,
not the director – does. Michael Carmen Sandiego Pitt, as he’s now apparently
known, is fine, I guess, although the potential for the character, particular
given the early portents, is rather diminished by his generic,
sub-Terminator/ Cyborg/ Frankenstein’s monster look. Juliette Binoche gives some
substance to a clichéd guilty scientist, required to atone for putting ethics
on the backburner, while Takeshi Kitano, quite rightly speaking subtitled
Japanese (of all the elements here, this is one that entirely fits, however
much it may have been a matter of practicality) scores in a nice little scene
where he uses a brief case as a shield during a shootout.
Of course, the biggest conversation to have resulted from a
largely-ignored movie thus far (it remains to be seen if it will be shunned by
Asian audiences; Paramount will be praying not, but the press is acting like
its done and dusted), is the accusation of whitewashing. It would be a rather
tiresome subject – really, what did anyone expect, it’s a Hollywood studio with
its eye on demographics, they were never
going to serve the source material in that regard, unless they could guarantee
Rinko Kikuchi would put bums on seats globally – if not for the foot-in-mouth
manner in which the studio has invited further criticism.
Starting with reports of tests to turn Scarlett Japanese – I
don’t think so; the only time that worked was with Sean’s amazing
transformation in You Only Live Twice
– then the “I am Major” meme
generator that backfired disastrously – typically, respondents offered photos
of Asian actresses with comments along the lines of “I am the woman that should’ve been cast” and, most pointedly, and
amusingly, “I am the face of Asians in
Hollywood” showing Mickey Rooney in Breakfast
at Tiffany’s – and now with movie’s revelation that Mira is in fact Motoko
Kusanagi (the anime/Manga character) in a western shell, they’ve not so much
stepped as fallen flat on their faces into a great steaming pile. I can quite
believe, in their own blinkered way, that the makers thought Mira’s true
identity was some sort of ameliorating, inclusive gesture (and certainly, it’s
one that at least makes sense narratively), but it comes across as simply
rubbing salt in the wound.
I’m not overly exercised by the issue, particularly since
there’s almost always a blue touch paper aspect to inflaming these kinds of media
firestorms (as Oshii said, not quite Jim
Cameron giving his blessing to Terminator
Genisys, “I can only sense a
political motive from the people opposing it, and I believe artistic expression
must be free from politics”; I trust he was paid handsomely for his quote);
I’d probably be more inclined to defend the choice if the picture as a whole
had risen to the potential of its source material. Sanders handles the action
sequences entirely competently and knows how to integrate his special effects
(as Snow White and the Huntsman also
evidenced), but he displays little evidence for having a grasp on basic
storytelling. The visuals are frequently fantastic but mostly familiar.
Occasionally, something stands out (Mira being dragged into a mire of grabbing
hands when she dives into the geisha’s AI; of which, the spider geisha is tremendous),
but too much of the movie is reliant on sumptuous art direction. The music,
from Clint Mansell and Lorne Balfe is solid, but the anime’s superlative Utai IV: Reawakening by Kenji Kawai, played over the end credits,
highlights just how lacking in its own distinctive personality the picture is.
Does that explain audiences’ lack of appetite? The
post-mortems on bombs are invariably “I told you sos” that clutch at straws.
Poor reviews are only cited as a factor when something bombs, not when it’s a
hit. The whitewashing controversy is important to just about no one, in terms
of a general audience actually caring about seeing a movie or not. Citing a
star’s failing status is only significant until the next hit (somehow Lucy evidently managed to whet appetites
in a way this plain didn’t). I suspect – since it was my first reaction on
seeing the trailer – that it’s mostly that this looks like a movie transported
from 20 years ago, so indebted is it for ideas and visuals to The Matrix and the preceding Ghost in the Machine (which has filtered
into so much else, as well as itself being influenced by Blade Runner). But you never can tell what will hit the spot, and
it would only take Sander’s movie to have the kind of reception in Asian markets
as Pacific Rim (let alone Warcraft) for the takeaway to be more
forgiving. Which leads to the consideration that perhaps it would have done better with Rinko.
The not-especially-original conclusion of many a review has
been that this is a shell lacking a ghost, and it’s unfortunately apposite. I
mentioned Elon Musk and his transhumanist vision in my review of the original,
but the remake is so functional in approach, this aspect barely merits mention.
Failing to translate ideas isn’t necessarily the worst offence, not if a
picture has sufficient momentum and proves a decent ride. Sadly, while Sanders
can put an action sequence together with aplomb, its what’s in between that
stuffs up Ghost in the Shell. There’s
nothing propelling the plot, no kineticism. It’s nice to look at, but that
isn’t enough.
Agree? Disagree? Mildly or vehemently? Let me know in the comments below.
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