Beauty and Philosophy
Rediscovering the Art of Ghost in the Shell

Despite a growing underground movement in America, animated films from Japan have yet to reach the same mainstream acceptance as those by companies like Disney, Pixar, and DreamWorks. Nevertheless, even those who are not ardent fans of Japanese animation have noticed the growing beauty of the work, as evidenced by the popularity of films like Princess Mononoke and the Academy Award-winning Spirited Away. Now Innocence, the sequel to the popular 1996 film Ghost in the Shell, has raised the bar for beauty and depth in animated film.

In Innocence, Batou (voiced by Akio Ôtsuka) takes center stage in the anti-terrorist unit Public Security Section 9. Following the loss of his partner, Major Motoko Kusanagi (in the original film), Batou must come to grips with a new partner (Kôichi Yamadera) and his new role in Section 9. Like the Major, Batou is a cyborg cop, more machine than man in a future world where the thin line between man and machine is only the ghost (or spirit or soul, if you prefer) that inhabits them.

As the story begins, Batou is called in to help stop a killer that has already taken the lives of two police officers. When he arrives, he discovers that the killer is not a person at all, but a doll that appears to have blown a fuse. When he confronts it, he hears the phrase "Help me!" as the doll self-destructs.

When Section 9 begins to investigate further (more dolls are going on rampages, all targeting politicians and diplomats), the puzzle takes on labyrinthine qualities that make The Matrix look like Popular Philosophy for Beginners. The film delves into the kinds of questions one does not expect from animated films. Why does humanity feel the need to replicate its own image in its dolls? What defines the difference between a doll and a cyborg such as Batou? Is a man who can be controlled like a doll still a man? What is the spirit in animals that humans find so beautiful?

While the philosophy of Innocence may take several viewings to completely appreciate, there is no question of the beauty in the film. There are several moments where modern animation seems to blur with reality as architecture, cities, and machines take on such realistic qualities that one wonders if a few minutes of actual film footage were slipped into the production. The parade scene, for example, is a beautiful blend of realism and character animation.

Even when the animation is obviously artwork, as with Batou's basset hound (modeled after director Mamoru Oshii's own dog, Gabriel), the subtle nuances incorporated into the animation is near perfect. While the people in the film are stylistically animated and are not realistic enough to be mistaken for human actors, the dolls move with an awkward lack of grace that reminds one of a puppet on strings. The result is an unsettling image that seems grossly inhuman among the more human characters in the film.

For fans of Japanese animation, the beauty and depth of Innocence will come as no surprise. Like so many other films to come out of Japan in the last decade, this one has a built-in audience that will appreciate the engaging story and intriguing philosophy proposed by the world that Batou lives in. Whether or not the mainstream audiences can learn to love Japanese animation depends on two things: widespread distribution of the film and an ability in the audience to look past the Disney-Pixar-DreamWorks formula and embrace an animated story that doesn't rely on fairy tales for a plot device.

MY RATING: 8 out of 10.

RATED: PG-13
RUN TIME: 99 min.