Would you like to be a sexy robot? I’m not joking here. This is our future, apparently. We take our big brains (Ghosts) and put them in fabulous new bodies (Shells). Awesome! I want mine to be Denzel Washington, what about you? What’s that? We have to be cyber cops? Walking WMDs? Some form of robotic enforcer to justify the transfer? Hmmmm … in that case, I want to be Justin Bieber; nobody will see that one comin’.
Major (Scarlett Johansson) is the first such human-brained cyborg. Rescued from a terrorist attack, her brain was transferred into a body designed by, I’m guessing, a very lonely and slightly immature technician. No, there’s no reason you have to look like a swimsuit model just like there’s no reason you have to shed all layers and go with “nude robot” when anticipating combat. It’s just a choice … a very sexy choice.
Don’t let anybody sell you on whatever this movie was trying to say; Ghost in the Shell exists to sell ScarJo as either as cosplay option or a nerd’s pin-up. Still, I suppose there was a fair amount of sci-fi attached to this sales pitch, so let’s examine it, shall we? It is the future and we’re all about the bots, the bots, the bots, no trouble. All sorts of humans have limb and brain cyber-enhancements thanks to Hanka Robotics. Not satisfied with bionics, these folks set out to create a Hanka Hanka burning love in robot form; Major was the result – a year after successful “birth,” she’s now something of an enforcer for Hanka – she strips down to flesh-colored skin-tight bodysuit (the kind one might find on bobsledders, only thinner) and races into evil Japanese tea parties and karaoke clubs guns-a-blazin’.
FWIW, Major’s enforcer partner is Batou (Pilou Asbæk), whom I have included for the sole reason of getting the letter “æ” into this review.
Ghost in the Shell operates from a perspective that our collective future contains wonderful new brain augmentation. More than once, a character boasts of acquiring knowledge instantly and easily as if the breadth of worldly wisdom could be contained entirely within your head – just say the word. This, as I understand it now, represents a fundamental misunderstanding of human nature. Sure, pursuit of knowledge will never be a completely outdated idea, but look around you; look at social media and politics – people don’t want to know any more than they already “know.” Not at all. You think the President or any one of the jokers who support him need to know anything more … or anything at all? No, of course not. And that fact is sadly true of most humans regardless of political leaning. In general, people don’t want or need to know more; they simply need to know that what they believe is true – now, if Hanka can make a brain implant that reassures some typical jackass that Pizzagate is real, 9/11 was an inside job, or Peanut Butter can be found on the Periodic Table, well, then you gotta something.
The plot of Ghost in the Shell is, essentially, Major’s search for truth: who is behind deadly attacks on Hanka cyber-engineers and cyber-doctors? –isn’t the “cyber-“ prefix great? I have no idea what it’s supposed to mean, but you stick it in front of most any profession and you’ve got a whole new paradigm. E.g. “The cyber-sitter comes at 7:30.” “Daylight savings was invented by cyber-framers.” “He plays cyber-second base for the Red Sox.” See how much more intriguing those sentences
become? I digress – Major’s investigations are but a minor part of the bigger picture in which we all have become slaves to technology in one form or another. I think that’s what the movie is trying to say, but even if it isn’t, hey, ScarJo, bodysuit, often, enjoy.
A lot of noise has been made about Scarlett Johansson and Juliette Binoche as white women playing roles that I’m guessing were Japanese in the original material. In fact, Major has the brain of a Japanese woman in the body of a white woman. I’m not going to say this isn’t important. It is … especially coming on the heels of Matt Damon as the MVP of a film entitled The Great Wall. And yet, I feel the need to urge a dialing down. You have every right to make a big deal out of this, but like Great Wall, the movie itself isn’t a big deal; it’s stylish and forgettable, a footnote in history. I’d say save the indignation for when it matters, like Mickey Rooney in Breakfast at Tiffany’s. That said, I’m not a fan of the trend.
♪Do you remember in the high tech lab
When you were laid out on an O.R. slab
Whatever happened to your human bod?
The sun-tanned co-ed oriental miss
Remember breakin’ into that tea shop
You ended terror with a quick chop-chop
I didn’t recognize your fem façade
You beat up tweakers hurting our business
Bot baby, bot baby, make a last stand
Wearing outfits consisting of latex
Don’t mind the gore you can wash it away it the moonlight
Bot baby, bot baby, ain’t your life grand
Find the lens; here’s the part where you sell sex
Shootin’ is fun when you’re out in nothing all day♫
Rated PG-13, 107 Minutes
D: Rupert Sanders
W: Jamie Moss and William Wheeler and Ehren Kruger
Genre: Cy-buggery
Type of person most likely to enjoy this film: The army of boys/men/others wanting to bed Scarlett Johansson
Type of person least likely to enjoy this film: Folks understandably pissed at non-Asian casting
♪ Parody inspired by “Beach Baby”
