Ghost in the Shell vs. Ghost in the Shell

The Major vs. The Major

Don’t worry, I won’t spoil Ghost in the Shell (2017) for you… but the reviews are in, and they are decidedly “meh.”  Despite Ghost in the Shell (2017) being visually and aurally stunning, no one seems to like it.  So where did it all go wrong?
 
The concept.
​
That may surprise you, because the original anime movie is loved by legions.  Many of the scenes are lifted almost completely from the original movie, so it should be a no brainer, right?  But when rewriting the 2017 version, the central question of the film (the question that holds your concept together) was changed.  Once you mess with a story’s core-- it’s skeletal framework-- the flesh won’t hang on it the right way and it becomes an unwieldy lump.  I’ll let ​Manohla Dargis of The New York Times describe the results:

---

“the original “Ghost in the Shell” is such a delightful philosophical plaything, with pleasures that simultaneously bewitch the eye and enchant the mind. This version, by contrast, ditches the original’s big, human, all-too-human questions, but keeps all the firing guns and car chases, the action clichés and intentional genre stereotypes. Stripped of its deeper-dish musings, the story turns into a perfectly watchable, somewhat bland action movie”​
​

The lackluster rework of ​Ghost in the Shell reveals a difference between Japanese and American storytelling traditions.  While Japanese storytelling leans toward philosophy, American storytelling leans toward ethics.  In this case, the original Japanese story meditates on the question “what does it mean to be human?” while the 2017 adaptation asks “what are our obligations as humans?”  These are both valid questions upon which to hang a film, but they are certainly not interchangeable.  So when this new ethical question is thrust upon the plot of Ghost in the Shell, the floating, delicate philosophical understructure collapses under the earthly weight of ethical application.  Everything deflates.
​
Good sci-fi movies with ethical questions have been made.  The Matrix has the exterior hallmarks of a philosophically driven film, but it is actually ethically driven.  A philosophical version of The Matrix would ask “what is the nature of freedom?” but the movie never asks this question. Some characters in the film ask this question, but the film itself never does.  Neo’s goal is to free himself.  The nature of that freedom is not in question.  He wants to change the system, like the hacker he is.  He never interrogates the system itself. So both ethical and philosophical films can be successful in this genre.

The fact that Ghost in the Shell (2017) ’s creatives felt audiences wouldn’t connect with Ghost in the Shell’s core philosophical question is honestly insulting.  It’s not as if American audiences can’t understand philosophical movies.  Her and Ex Machina ask very similar questions to Ghost in the Shell (1994).  And Blade Runner clearly inspired Ghost in the Shell (1994) in design, tone, and narrative.  Even if these movies weren’t box office smashes, they were understood.  I wonder if Blade Runner’s philosophical leanings made the studio anxious and that’s why they added useless voice-over long after the movie was finished.  They wanted to help audiences understand a film that didn’t need their help in the slightest.  
​
I think the lesson here is to know your central question well, build from it, and trust it.  If you stray or lose faith in that question, your project will fall apart no matter how elegantly rendered your prose may be.  Honor your audience with that same trust.  There is no need to anchor us to the dirt if you want us to soar.  And don’t shoot us into the air like a rocket if your project wants to play in the earth.  If your central question is surrounded by well-crafted characters and a thoughtful plot that fits your question, we will follow you.