Mardock Scramble: The First Compression. Go Hands.
Thursday, November 29, 2012
MARDOCK SCRAMBLE: THE FIRST COMPRESSION, or "Cyborg Prostitute: The Anime Legacy of Molly Millions"
Rune Ballot is a fifteen year old prostitute who gets blown up by Shell, a client who turns his victims into blue diamonds (I don't know why he does this, maybe the next two films will explain that). Her body is repaired by Dr. Easter, who runs medical experiments under government order using top-secret body modifications. Ballot wakes to find herself with a mix of wireless computer hacking skills and electromagnetic manipulation, abilities she must use to help apprehend Shell. As with any good cyberpunk story, there's some healthy corporate warfare going on between Dr. Easter's financial backers and Shell's financiers, the October Corporation.
Saturday, July 28, 2012
ARMITAGE III OVA
I have seen online advertisements promoting the recent release of Armitage III: The Complete Saga for some time now. At some point Funimation's massive advertising assault finally paid off and I decided to watch the series. Lest I sound like a miserable victim of commercial enterprise and subliminal messaging, I also happen to love cyberpunk anime, so Armitage III was a nice treat. Having already seen a myriad of cyberpunk classics like Akira and Ghost in the Shell, I wanted to see if Armitage III achieved something its more famous counterparts could not.
Thursday, June 28, 2012
GHOST IN THE SHELL: STAND ALONE COMPLEX
There's a large number of American anime fans who readily acknowledge Stand Alone Complex as a really confusing show that comes on Adult Swim late at night. There are others who feel as if the deeply philosophical themes present in the 1995 film are all but missing from the anime series. Still, some hail the anime as a post-cyberpunk masterpiece. The most profound fictional works can also have the most polarized critics; Stand Alone Complex is undoubtedly part of this tradition and will surely stand the test of time.
Thursday, June 14, 2012
BATTLE ANGEL
4 stars out of 5
Battle Angel takes the first two books of its respective manga series, chops the stories down to their foundations and splices them together to make an arguably superior rendition of the franchise. This might not sit well with hardliners who vehemently despise alterations in what is already considered a sublime work of dystopic cyberpunk fiction, but when is change ever met without resistance? Battle Angel is as grim, disturbing, and unrelentingly violent as its manga predecessor, and our sympathy for Gally, the tragic hero, is compounded by the fact that her cries for mercy are no longer mediated through comic book speech bubbles, but have become audible and grating and visceral.
Battle Angel takes the first two books of its respective manga series, chops the stories down to their foundations and splices them together to make an arguably superior rendition of the franchise. This might not sit well with hardliners who vehemently despise alterations in what is already considered a sublime work of dystopic cyberpunk fiction, but when is change ever met without resistance? Battle Angel is as grim, disturbing, and unrelentingly violent as its manga predecessor, and our sympathy for Gally, the tragic hero, is compounded by the fact that her cries for mercy are no longer mediated through comic book speech bubbles, but have become audible and grating and visceral.
Gally, doing what she does best.
Monday, March 19, 2012
GHOST IN THE SHELL 2.0
Shortly before the turn of the century the Internet revolutionized the way humans exchange information. In many respects, mankind managed to create a world parallel to our own. There have been countless works of fiction devoted to expounding upon the implications of our inception of virtual reality, the book Neuromancer being among the earliest examples. Human beings, as such fictional works continue to demonstrate, are inherently curious as to what our lives can evolve into if only we were able to directly connect with this intangible network of raw data. As confusing as it is for some to define what "life" and "humanity" are, imagine the complications that would arise if people had to include machine technology into such an equation. Mamoru Oshii directs the film adaptation of Shirow Masamune's original Ghost in the Shell manga, which addresses questions about the meaning of life that will be pertinent for many years to come.
This review specifically engages the remastered edition of the original 1995 Ghost in the Shell film, hence Ghost in the Shell 2.0. That point aside, the narrative is the same. The film takes place in Japan in the year 2029. At this point in time humans have managed to successfully join human flesh and consciousness into machinery, so much so that many people have at least some form of cybernetic implants within them. The story revolves around Section 9, an anti-terrorism unit tracking down a person attempting to "ghost hack" (taking over one's consciousness) the interpreter for the Minister of Foreign Affairs. Section 9 suspects this might be the work of the Puppet Master, an impossibly skillful hacker, and they believe he meant to control the interpreter so that she can kill a foreign diplomat the Minister is scheduled to meet. What Section 9 uncovers about the Puppet Master is what makes the film so profound: the Puppet Master is an artificial intelligence that claims to be sentient.
The tale is rather straight-forward and not too complex if one pays close attention to the boring and seemingly irrelevant political jargon the film starts off with. The story is based on several short stories that composed the Ghost in the Shell manga. Those who have read the manga and follow the Ghost in the Shell multimedia franchise come into this film with a slight advantage; Shirow Masamune's vision of the future is rich, with a developed political landscape and technological innovations unimaginable. The only issues newcomers would encounter is the referral to the human consciousness or soul as a "ghost". The term is most often used by Major Motoko Kusanagi, the female protagonist. She constantly follows her intuition or instincts, or in other words, her ghost frequently "whispers" to her and she follows what her ghost is saying. The simple task of switching "ghost" with "consciousness" makes the rest of the film a lot easier to understand.
The film deals with some heavy philosophical and ethical themes, which elevates it far above what people normally consider animation to be: childish and without relevance to mature, important matters. Motoko Kusanagi, for example, goes through an existential crisis as she ponders on the myriad cybernetics at work within her body. She doesn't know whether or not her thoughts are really her own or if they are a result of complex programming codes. The moments in which she expresses her frustrations are somewhat unnatural and forced, as if she carefully planned to tell people. The odd dialogue is a consequence of both bad writing and film length, which clocks in at under ninety minutes. It's a shame because Motoko's questions actually address the franchise's concerns about humanity's relation to technology, but in synoptic spurts of dialogue.
The Puppet Master's claim to be a sentient life form raises some interesting ethical issues, even if such matters are dated to the Millennial generation. The qualifications for being not only "alive" but also intelligent is a question that biological science and religion claim to have solved long ago. If cyborgs are brought into the argument, generally people can agree upon the notion that a person with technological implants is still in possession of a human "ghost". Artificial intelligence, on the other hand, needs to acquire some seed of "humanity", such as the ability to overcome programming limitations and develop volition, in order for people to consider them as being even remotely alive. This issue is at the heart of many science fiction stories, and will likely remain in the fictional realm for some time because of the lack of actual hyper-advanced AI. Ghost in the Shell 2.0 manages to avoid seeming too dated precisely because many people still see AI sentience as either possible, or at least a narrative treasure trove to be mined until there is nothing to write.
The animation for the film is impressive. To be clear, there was nothing particularly wrong with the animation of the first film. The animation in 2.0 however is very clean and sleek, similar to the work done on Dragon Ball Z: Kai. Points of contention for fans of the original Ghost in the Shell film revolve around the color palette, which was originally composed of many cool greens and blues but was traded for warm yellow and orange. The debate is not worth anyone's time and is largely a matter of preference or indifference. Another large change is the inclusion of 3D-CGI. This would also be of little consequence if not for the occasions it is applied to Major Motoko Kusanagi's body. Vehicles are often rendered in CGI in contemporary animation. People are another story entirely. For a character to arbitrarily be rendered in CGI at times is distracting.
The music is the same for both versions of the film, and this was a brilliant decision. The film often features the haunting chants of Japanese folk singers, accompanied by a chime, large drum and deep, atmospheric string instruments. The music often plays as the film shows scenes without dialogue, instead entertaining audiences with panoramic views and visual spectacle. Whether or not the music is meant to evoke an overwhelming sense of dread, solemnity, anxiety or awe depends on an individual's personal attitude regarding the future of man and machine; one may experience all of the aforementioned feelings at the same time.
Ghost in the Shell 2.0 is both a product of its time and a prophetic view of a feasible future. One thing the film does successfully is simplify the ideas within the original manga, which become incredibly abstract and theoretical towards the end of the story. The philosophical and ethical issues raised in the series are not universally appealing or even interesting to a majority of people, so the simplification of highly intellectual matters should be appreciated. This film, along with works like Akira, helped anime capture the attention of American audiences during the 1990's, when Japanese culture seemed to explode onto the global scene.
- Elijah Lee
Motoko Kusanagi, our protagonist.
This review specifically engages the remastered edition of the original 1995 Ghost in the Shell film, hence Ghost in the Shell 2.0. That point aside, the narrative is the same. The film takes place in Japan in the year 2029. At this point in time humans have managed to successfully join human flesh and consciousness into machinery, so much so that many people have at least some form of cybernetic implants within them. The story revolves around Section 9, an anti-terrorism unit tracking down a person attempting to "ghost hack" (taking over one's consciousness) the interpreter for the Minister of Foreign Affairs. Section 9 suspects this might be the work of the Puppet Master, an impossibly skillful hacker, and they believe he meant to control the interpreter so that she can kill a foreign diplomat the Minister is scheduled to meet. What Section 9 uncovers about the Puppet Master is what makes the film so profound: the Puppet Master is an artificial intelligence that claims to be sentient.
The tale is rather straight-forward and not too complex if one pays close attention to the boring and seemingly irrelevant political jargon the film starts off with. The story is based on several short stories that composed the Ghost in the Shell manga. Those who have read the manga and follow the Ghost in the Shell multimedia franchise come into this film with a slight advantage; Shirow Masamune's vision of the future is rich, with a developed political landscape and technological innovations unimaginable. The only issues newcomers would encounter is the referral to the human consciousness or soul as a "ghost". The term is most often used by Major Motoko Kusanagi, the female protagonist. She constantly follows her intuition or instincts, or in other words, her ghost frequently "whispers" to her and she follows what her ghost is saying. The simple task of switching "ghost" with "consciousness" makes the rest of the film a lot easier to understand.The film deals with some heavy philosophical and ethical themes, which elevates it far above what people normally consider animation to be: childish and without relevance to mature, important matters. Motoko Kusanagi, for example, goes through an existential crisis as she ponders on the myriad cybernetics at work within her body. She doesn't know whether or not her thoughts are really her own or if they are a result of complex programming codes. The moments in which she expresses her frustrations are somewhat unnatural and forced, as if she carefully planned to tell people. The odd dialogue is a consequence of both bad writing and film length, which clocks in at under ninety minutes. It's a shame because Motoko's questions actually address the franchise's concerns about humanity's relation to technology, but in synoptic spurts of dialogue.
The Major speaks with the Puppet Master.
The Puppet Master's claim to be a sentient life form raises some interesting ethical issues, even if such matters are dated to the Millennial generation. The qualifications for being not only "alive" but also intelligent is a question that biological science and religion claim to have solved long ago. If cyborgs are brought into the argument, generally people can agree upon the notion that a person with technological implants is still in possession of a human "ghost". Artificial intelligence, on the other hand, needs to acquire some seed of "humanity", such as the ability to overcome programming limitations and develop volition, in order for people to consider them as being even remotely alive. This issue is at the heart of many science fiction stories, and will likely remain in the fictional realm for some time because of the lack of actual hyper-advanced AI. Ghost in the Shell 2.0 manages to avoid seeming too dated precisely because many people still see AI sentience as either possible, or at least a narrative treasure trove to be mined until there is nothing to write.
The animation for the film is impressive. To be clear, there was nothing particularly wrong with the animation of the first film. The animation in 2.0 however is very clean and sleek, similar to the work done on Dragon Ball Z: Kai. Points of contention for fans of the original Ghost in the Shell film revolve around the color palette, which was originally composed of many cool greens and blues but was traded for warm yellow and orange. The debate is not worth anyone's time and is largely a matter of preference or indifference. Another large change is the inclusion of 3D-CGI. This would also be of little consequence if not for the occasions it is applied to Major Motoko Kusanagi's body. Vehicles are often rendered in CGI in contemporary animation. People are another story entirely. For a character to arbitrarily be rendered in CGI at times is distracting.
Batou of Public Security Section 9.
The music is the same for both versions of the film, and this was a brilliant decision. The film often features the haunting chants of Japanese folk singers, accompanied by a chime, large drum and deep, atmospheric string instruments. The music often plays as the film shows scenes without dialogue, instead entertaining audiences with panoramic views and visual spectacle. Whether or not the music is meant to evoke an overwhelming sense of dread, solemnity, anxiety or awe depends on an individual's personal attitude regarding the future of man and machine; one may experience all of the aforementioned feelings at the same time.
Ghost in the Shell 2.0 is both a product of its time and a prophetic view of a feasible future. One thing the film does successfully is simplify the ideas within the original manga, which become incredibly abstract and theoretical towards the end of the story. The philosophical and ethical issues raised in the series are not universally appealing or even interesting to a majority of people, so the simplification of highly intellectual matters should be appreciated. This film, along with works like Akira, helped anime capture the attention of American audiences during the 1990's, when Japanese culture seemed to explode onto the global scene.
- Elijah Lee
Saturday, February 25, 2012
EDEN OF THE EAST: An Analysis
5 stars out of 5.
One Helluva Story
The story begins in front of the White House, following a young girl named Saki as she vacations in the U.S. She is throwing coins onto the White House lawn, making wishes for conditions in Japan to improve through some form of American intervention. The police see this and begin questioning her. They, along with Saki, are then distracted by a man who stands across the street without clothes on, holding a gun and cellphone. The police pursue him and he manages to lose them. He later introduces himself to Saki; he does not remember who he is or why he is naked. She gives him her coat and hat and he runs off to where he believes he lives. Realizing that her passport is in the coat, Saki follows him. The two are soon spotted by the police, and so they sneak away from his apartment and make it to the airport so she can return to her home in Japan. Saki goes through the young man's passport, which he found within his D.C. apartment; he is Akira Takizawa, a Japanese citizen. He decides to accompany her in order to discover his identity.
Akira soon learns that his phone links up to a concierge named Juiz, who has been using a ten billion yen bank account in order to fulfill Akira's wishes. The reason he was given the phone is simple: he was chosen to become the savior of Japan, and must use his money to better the nation. There are other citizens who also have special phones, and if any one of them manages to affect real change in Japan before the others, the other phone users die. For anyone who isn't fond of spoilers, trust me, I've only laid down the foundations of the narrative. Watching the show unfold is an exciting and suspenseful experience, and full of surprises.
Akira Takizawa is the ideal human being, incessantly altruistic and willing to do anything in order to help others. This initially seems like an annoying quality for any protagonist to have; he's flawless. A lot of his appeal comes from the fact that the series focuses on discovering who he his and why he has been selected as a Selecao, one of twelve people with the mysterious phone. Akira's somewhat bland personality is stretched to its limits due to the absurd situations the competing Selecao place him in, and this is when Akira is most ingenious and enjoyable. Part of why he loses his memory in the first episode is related to an incident called “Careless Monday,” where missiles strike Japan but end up killing no one in the process. I'll let viewers discover what role Akira played in that incident for themselves.
One Helluva Theory
One theoretical notion that runs through writer/director Kenji Kamiyama's works is the notion of the “vanishing mediator,” especially seen in Ghost in the Shell: Solid State Society. A vanishing mediator can be thought of as a third party (hence “mediator”) that intercedes in the dilemma caused by opposing ideas, helps to form a resolution, and then disappears; the mediator arises to resolve the problem and leaves once the job is done. The Selecao in Eden of the East can also be seen as vanishing mediators, people who are summoned to resolve a conflict and then disappear entirely once the job is done. In the case of the series, the two opposed forces are the older Japanese who hold onto their wealth and fantasies of post-World War Two industrial glory, and the younger NEET (“not in education, employment or training”) population that are unable to get steady jobs because corporations are unwilling to hire. Once a Selecao is able to solve that issue, all other Selecao die, or at least these are the rules stated by Mr. Outside, the man running the Selecao program. Of course, if “vanishing mediator” translates to “death” in Eden of the East, one must wonder what becomes of the Selecao who wins the game.
Anyone who has seen Kamiyama's Stand Alone Complex works knows that they are dense with literary, cultural and technological references many viewers aren't familiar with unless they happen to be college-educated intellectuals. The Ghost in the Shell franchise in general is not accessible to everyone (the original manga by Shirow Masamune eventually turns into a comic book explanation of the workings of the universe). Kamiyama's later works, Moribito: Guardian of the Spirit and Eden of the East do not similarly confuse the general public. Eden of the East presents Kamiyama's social concerns in a form many viewers would find palatable, without “dumbing down” its intellectualism or relevance to today's world.
One Helluva Show
It's safe to say that Production I.G. consistently produces some of the most visually spectacular anime in the world today. Meticulous attention to detail is paid to the illustration of environments within Eden. In a brilliantly executed manner, surfaces are painted with bold visible strokes, as if to reflect myriad light sources from the surroundings. The characters within the show each have unique designs, and they even change their clothes on occasion. The CG in the series is almost unnoticeable; large crowds are typically rendered in computer graphics whenever in aerial view, and at such an angle they aren't easily distinguishable from illustrated figures. Similarly, it might surprise some to learn that Peter Jackson's Lord of the Rings trilogy also used that method to depict thousands of soldiers at war on the fields of Middle Earth.
Eden of the East is a solid contribution to the world of anime. It manages to mix hilarity and intellect in an engaging narrative form, and predictability is thrown out the window because of a conflict that is in many ways unique to modern-day Japan. The Selecao, not reduced to either “heroes” or “villains”, are chosen from various walks of life and each uses different methods to somehow make Japan a better place. It's an ambiguous goal, and by extension an ingenious one too. Eden has no manga precedent which means following the series should be a breeze. The only problems Eden of the East might face are in the future, where its ideas might become dated due to their specific relevance to contemporary issues. Assuming conditions have changed in Japan by that time, hopefully Eden will be seen as a snapshot of the issues Generation Y encountered at the dawn of the millennium.
* Eden of the East is an eleven episode anime series. There are also two films, The King of Eden and Paradise Lost. In unusual fashion, these films serve as continuations of the original series instead of stand alone works that are loosely associated with series canon. It is for that reason that I won't review them separately from the television series. They all realize their greatest potential when watched in tandem.
- Elijah Lee
What does it take to instigate social change? A revolution of course, but how? When the elderly grow akin to old dogs unable to learn new tricks, and the youth grow disinterested in politics and retreat into hikikomori isolationism, who is going to take a stance and change the future? When your country has lost its significance in world politics and the nation is up to its neck in debt, where do people turn? Like a powder keg about to burst, Japan risked crossing the point of no return, where it could not restore its former post-war glory unless something drastic happened. Kenji Kamiyama's anime oeuvre expresses fantastic ideals for enacting changes in the social structure, and Eden of the East is another shining example of his revolutionary ideals.
Akira and Saki.
One Helluva Story
The story begins in front of the White House, following a young girl named Saki as she vacations in the U.S. She is throwing coins onto the White House lawn, making wishes for conditions in Japan to improve through some form of American intervention. The police see this and begin questioning her. They, along with Saki, are then distracted by a man who stands across the street without clothes on, holding a gun and cellphone. The police pursue him and he manages to lose them. He later introduces himself to Saki; he does not remember who he is or why he is naked. She gives him her coat and hat and he runs off to where he believes he lives. Realizing that her passport is in the coat, Saki follows him. The two are soon spotted by the police, and so they sneak away from his apartment and make it to the airport so she can return to her home in Japan. Saki goes through the young man's passport, which he found within his D.C. apartment; he is Akira Takizawa, a Japanese citizen. He decides to accompany her in order to discover his identity.
Akira soon learns that his phone links up to a concierge named Juiz, who has been using a ten billion yen bank account in order to fulfill Akira's wishes. The reason he was given the phone is simple: he was chosen to become the savior of Japan, and must use his money to better the nation. There are other citizens who also have special phones, and if any one of them manages to affect real change in Japan before the others, the other phone users die. For anyone who isn't fond of spoilers, trust me, I've only laid down the foundations of the narrative. Watching the show unfold is an exciting and suspenseful experience, and full of surprises.
Akira Takizawa is the ideal human being, incessantly altruistic and willing to do anything in order to help others. This initially seems like an annoying quality for any protagonist to have; he's flawless. A lot of his appeal comes from the fact that the series focuses on discovering who he his and why he has been selected as a Selecao, one of twelve people with the mysterious phone. Akira's somewhat bland personality is stretched to its limits due to the absurd situations the competing Selecao place him in, and this is when Akira is most ingenious and enjoyable. Part of why he loses his memory in the first episode is related to an incident called “Careless Monday,” where missiles strike Japan but end up killing no one in the process. I'll let viewers discover what role Akira played in that incident for themselves.
One Helluva Theory
One theoretical notion that runs through writer/director Kenji Kamiyama's works is the notion of the “vanishing mediator,” especially seen in Ghost in the Shell: Solid State Society. A vanishing mediator can be thought of as a third party (hence “mediator”) that intercedes in the dilemma caused by opposing ideas, helps to form a resolution, and then disappears; the mediator arises to resolve the problem and leaves once the job is done. The Selecao in Eden of the East can also be seen as vanishing mediators, people who are summoned to resolve a conflict and then disappear entirely once the job is done. In the case of the series, the two opposed forces are the older Japanese who hold onto their wealth and fantasies of post-World War Two industrial glory, and the younger NEET (“not in education, employment or training”) population that are unable to get steady jobs because corporations are unwilling to hire. Once a Selecao is able to solve that issue, all other Selecao die, or at least these are the rules stated by Mr. Outside, the man running the Selecao program. Of course, if “vanishing mediator” translates to “death” in Eden of the East, one must wonder what becomes of the Selecao who wins the game.
Saki observing the antics of another Selecao.
Anyone who has seen Kamiyama's Stand Alone Complex works knows that they are dense with literary, cultural and technological references many viewers aren't familiar with unless they happen to be college-educated intellectuals. The Ghost in the Shell franchise in general is not accessible to everyone (the original manga by Shirow Masamune eventually turns into a comic book explanation of the workings of the universe). Kamiyama's later works, Moribito: Guardian of the Spirit and Eden of the East do not similarly confuse the general public. Eden of the East presents Kamiyama's social concerns in a form many viewers would find palatable, without “dumbing down” its intellectualism or relevance to today's world.
One Helluva Show
It's safe to say that Production I.G. consistently produces some of the most visually spectacular anime in the world today. Meticulous attention to detail is paid to the illustration of environments within Eden. In a brilliantly executed manner, surfaces are painted with bold visible strokes, as if to reflect myriad light sources from the surroundings. The characters within the show each have unique designs, and they even change their clothes on occasion. The CG in the series is almost unnoticeable; large crowds are typically rendered in computer graphics whenever in aerial view, and at such an angle they aren't easily distinguishable from illustrated figures. Similarly, it might surprise some to learn that Peter Jackson's Lord of the Rings trilogy also used that method to depict thousands of soldiers at war on the fields of Middle Earth.
Eden of the East is a solid contribution to the world of anime. It manages to mix hilarity and intellect in an engaging narrative form, and predictability is thrown out the window because of a conflict that is in many ways unique to modern-day Japan. The Selecao, not reduced to either “heroes” or “villains”, are chosen from various walks of life and each uses different methods to somehow make Japan a better place. It's an ambiguous goal, and by extension an ingenious one too. Eden has no manga precedent which means following the series should be a breeze. The only problems Eden of the East might face are in the future, where its ideas might become dated due to their specific relevance to contemporary issues. Assuming conditions have changed in Japan by that time, hopefully Eden will be seen as a snapshot of the issues Generation Y encountered at the dawn of the millennium.
* Eden of the East is an eleven episode anime series. There are also two films, The King of Eden and Paradise Lost. In unusual fashion, these films serve as continuations of the original series instead of stand alone works that are loosely associated with series canon. It is for that reason that I won't review them separately from the television series. They all realize their greatest potential when watched in tandem.
- Elijah Lee
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