Innocence

The movie takes a little too long, this is because the plot of this film is overwhelming simple. It raises a lot of philosophical questions about human cyber enhancement, but the amount of fleshing out quote after quote got a bit tedious. The first film was unlike anything I've ever seen, a full 9 years before the release of this film and the animation and styling of the first was way better in my opinion.

Yes it has some amazing visuals, but the blend of digital on top just didn't work for me. Not a bad film and it does further the Major and section nine's story, but it just doesn't feel like it should be a sequel, instead, it stands alone as another story.

This sequel doesn't come anywhere near the original in either story, atmosphere, artwork, or provocativeness. From the onset, the viewer is slammed with a philosophical quandary, this is given by the cyber- coroner and feels so out of context that it appears forced. Whereas, in the original, it was subtly woven throughout the film and its context. You just don't get that here.

I don't know if this is Disney's influence at work... The first film was a little convoluted, though, with a little brain power you could figure it out. For "Innocence" they give it to the audience in black and white.

Then you have the appearance of digital artwork, fused and mixed with the more original. For most of the time, this works, though it does have less effect on building atmosphere, as does the setting and direction of the scene. The worst scenes containing digital art are the cars driving down the street. The street backgrounds are dark with a mat lustre, howbeit, the cars are ultra shiny bright metallic. The reflections flowing over the surface of the car doesn't tally with their surroundings. This draws the viewer out of the story to register the imperfection of the scene, this hurts the movie as you want your viewer to feel as though they are apart of the story and not a third party just watching.

The story was a nice follow-up, even though I don't think is was told all that well. Something is happening to the sex-bots! For some reason, they are malfunctioning and killing their owners and whoever's in the vicinity before committing suicide. Section Nine is called in as this could be an act of terrorism since robots cannot kill humans or themselves.

Under better hands, this could have been as great as the original film had they decided to entwine the philosophy, the mystery and thriller elements, and mood and ambiance into the story and artwork instead of segregating them and lessening the power of the piece.

Worth watching if you've seen the original but be warned it's not as good.

I agree with an earlier reviewer that both hardcore Oshii fans and narrow-minded American viewers are missing the point by not viewing this movie on its own terms. In many ways, it's more thoroughly conceived, and less action-justified (more thoughtful) than Ghost in the Shell. For me, it progressed naturally from its predecessor: Where Ghost in the Shell asks questions about the nature of human individuality, Innocence asks the next set of questions, about human existence. And it asks them in ways so much more directly pertinent to our own lives than utterly fantastic treatments like the Matrix films and silly diversions like The Butterfly Effect.

The ideas of the story are genuinely original, and thoroughly conceived. I don't think I've ever seen a science fiction film that was as true to the real spirit of the genre as this pair; Japan in general seems to take science fiction much more seriously than any western film-culture, and so out of Japan we get real, serious attempts to tell science-fictional stories, filled with real ideas and real characters, instead of the Bat-Durstonized monstrosities we get in the west.

For me, the integration of 2D and 3D elements was jarring; but the story stands on its ideas and the strength of its plot.

The first one was better, but this one was fine too.

I feel a little guilty talking about this movie right now. It's a little like going to class without having fully digested the previous night's reading assignment. Sure, you read it through fairly deeply. You take notes. Maybe you had a midnight BS session with your roommate or the kid down the hall.

Maybe you were a little drunk. For whatever reason, you think you might have missed something important. Image Hosted by ImageShack.us That's more or less Ghost in the Shell 2's 100 minute running time in a . . . ghostshell. It doesn't help that the dialogue is in subtitles (the way it should be) and the animation is some of the most beautiful I've seen since . . . ever. Your eyes pull double duty, straining to digest polysyllabic words stacked 10 deep while soaking up animation of unrivaled scope and grandeur. Beauty and the Beast has nothing on this.

It's a much more assured and revelatory work than it's 1995 predecessor.

Credit Mamoru Oshii with improving upon every facet of an already intelligent and fascinating premise. Yes. Everything is better.

Much of the first Ghost in the Shell felt like a fleshing out of the various philosophical topics woven into the game of Artificial Intelligence. It was about debunking the line of demarcation between man and machine. It was about finding something unique in humanity amidst the clamour of our technological near-future. Oshii was struggling with this right alongside his characters, and it showed in a somewhat lackluster visual presentation, a jumbled thesis, and a messy ending. The plot itself, a techno-noir murder mystery, felt tacked on. Still, the original Ghost in the Shell was something to behold.

In the 9 years that have passed though, Oshii definitely did his homework. In a time when everyone needs a kickass firewall for that lumpy grey mass between their ears, knowledge is immediately available to all, and the section nine detectives Batou and Matoko use all the net has to offer in contemplating their place in the vast, jacked-in world they inhabit.

They drop anecdotes about Descartes, quote Confuscious, the Old Testament, reference Rabbi Judah Low ben Bezalel and the Golem of Prague. They quote Milton. I studied English literature and I can't quote Milton.

But then, maybe it takes someone like Milton, someone with sympathy for the devil, to live as a human in a world where men are ever more becoming mechanized, and the machines they build take on the characteristics of their creators.

Maybe it took Oshii a few years slogging through the quagmire of western skepticism and self-doubt to realize that.

The plot this time--another nod to noir--is more focused and accessible, except for the beginning of the third act, when someone hacks Matou's brain. Things get a little fuzzy then, but they're supposed to.

I don't believe the philosophy involved can totally reveal itself in one sitting. Certainly, trying to flesh it out here would be pointless and boring. Suffice it to say that in Oshii's future, humanity has angst to spare and it looks like things are only getting worse.

Even the animation choices reflect a feeling of alienation, and shows such painstaking love on the part of Oshii. The movie is dominated by advanced computer graphics and lush matte paintings for its backgrounds and many of the dolls (see also: robots, see also: gynoids, see also: sexroids etc, etc). Cars, library Stacks, great post-apocalyptic landscapes are by turns vivid and dingy and exploding with detail. They burst off the screen. Batou and Matoko and the rest of the humans (as well as the gynoids who have been given ghosts [souls]), in contrast, are cell animated the old fashioned way. In this environment they seem helplessly two dimensional, out of place and almost inferior--which is just the way they actually feel. And when a gynoid, through pursed lips and with seductive langour, pleads "help me," the hackles on your neck are at full attention. Brilliant.

I took notes during this movie. I felt compelled to. I think I'm going to find some pop-culture doctoral program and write my thesis on it. The depth and breadth and sheer complexity of the imagery and symbolism in Ghost in the Shell 2 is crippling. It feels at times like Heart of Darkness, but is careful to remain far less turgid and depressing. It fully warrants a second or third viewing, to mine the depth of what Oshii is offering.

At a time when the vast majority of films--even art-house flicks--opt for allegorical poverty rather than alienate potential ticket sales, it's all the more refreshing to see a beautiful, self-assured movie that's content to do more talking--about Milton for godsake--than shooting.