The Art of Ghost in the Shell Hardcover Review
If there was one positive aspect of director Rupert Sanders’ 2017 live action movie version of Ghost in the Shell, it was the phenomenal effects work from New Zealand-based studio WETA. It was clear that, despite that terrible dumbed-down story and cringeworthy dialogue, no small amount of love and effort had gone into the production, and this handsome, sizeable hardback volume documents in considerable detail the hard work of WETA’s army of artisans. In reading this, I felt even more disappointed that their wonderful visuals were in service to what was, ultimately, an underwhelming and disappointing film. However, despite my dislike of the finished cinematic product, in light of the myriad pictures and anecdotes contained within The Art of Ghost in the Shell, I found myself brimming with admiration for what WETA achieved.
At 160 pages, this is a hefty tome, a true coffee-table book of oversized proportions, full of images from all stages of production — from preliminary sketches, to storyboards, to digital concept art, to partly-built practical effects, to finished movie stills. Every aspect of the primarily NZ/Wellington-based production is covered in impressive detail, with input from many members of the movie’s crew, not just from WETA but also including director Sanders and the actors involved in bringing the characters to life. Each successive page leaves an impression that if only the script and underlying philosophy had been up to scratch, this could have been an incredible, one-of-a-kind film. Unfortunately, we all know how that turned out.
It’s obvious from the many anecdotes from most of the designers interviewed that they treated the original Ghost in the Shell manga and 1995 movie with reverence, with many aspects modelled directly on Oshii’s film specifically. So much thought went in to modifying and updating the manga/anime’s tech for a modern live action experience. I hadn’t realised that Sanders had pushed for a 1980s-inspired aesthetic, but in retrospective it now seems hard to miss. His vision for the cinematic world was that it had departed from our own in the 1980, and following two extra world wars (consistent with manga and anime), both culture and technology had diverged in dramatic ways.
Surprisingly for a modern Hollywood-funded sci-fi film, a great deal of the effects were practical (with some understandable digital touch-ups). This is particularly apparent with the striking geisha-bots who appear early in the movie. These were a mix of mask-wearing actresses, animatronics, and a little digital manipulation. All of the action scenes were mostly practical, with a significant amount of wire work involved for the more acrobatic segments. Contrasted with the CG sludge infecting modern day Marvel and DC movies, Ghost in the Shell’s attitude towards special effects seems almost quaintly retro, in a very good way.
While much of the external shooting was done in Wellington’s commercial district, some location shots were done in Hong Kong, as Sanders was keen to emulate certain key scenes from Oshii’s film that were set in real places within the city. Sanders was frustrated to learn that many parts of the city that existed in 1995 have since been demolished and replaced with shiny new buildings. The book explains that Sanders began with a list of scenes he wanted to pay homage to, and these are extremely obvious in the finished movie. In the case of the water-based thermoptocam fight, he seemed to think that extending the fight was the right choice, but in practice this seemed to mean using excessive slow motion.
Sanders, to me, seems like a director with an excellent eye for visuals, but less of a grasp on the fundamentals of storytelling. His notes about the Major’s character progression written during pre-production confirm that his conception of her was flawed from the outset, there’s probably no way we’d have got a movie Major who wasn’t a frustratingly blank victim/sulky teenager. This is extremely frustrating to me, as here’s a demonstrably talented, intelligent director, familiar with and reverent to the source material, who nonetheless seems to completely miss the point of the fundamental philosophy underpinning Shirow and Oshii’s approach to the Major’s transhumanism.
From the way Sanders presents in this book, he seems obsessed with the Major accepting and embracing her humanity. That seems like an incredibly simplified, Hollywood dumbed-down angle to explore with her character. The Shirow and Oshii versions of the Major both have her agonising over her humanity, but this leads to her transcending humanity, becoming something more. Even Stand Alone Complex’s Puppeteer-less Major ends up evolving in her own, slightly more subtle way. (Spoilers for SAC_2045, I guess, but that version of the Major may not even be the original, she’s spent so much time floating around disembodied in the net that the shell she inhabits may not even contain her ghost…)
In my movie review, I commented at length on my concerns about the “diversity-washing” of what should have been a primarily Japanese cast. While my concerns remain, the book explains that Sanders and crew always intended for this iteration of New Port City to be more cosmopolitan and international in populace, hence the wide array of nationalities reflected in Public Security Section 9’s setup. I suppose I get that, but it still comes across as more of a cynical money-driven decision than anything truly altruistic.
The Art of Ghost in the Shell is completely focused on the movie alone — there isn’t even a single image here from the manga or any iteration of the anime to act as a point of comparison, even though both manga and anime are mentioned reassuringly often. Potential buyers should be aware of the book’s singular focus, to avoid disappointment. Despite the lack of direct visual reference to past versions, this is a truly excellent art book — suitable for both idly flicking through, or for poring over for hours (as I did prior to writing this). It’s heavy, sturdy, substantial, with excellent paper quality and so many wonderful photographs, all of which have explanatory captions. I imagine this would be an invaluable tome both for film students and fans of the franchise, who perhaps wish the incredible designs in here had been utilised in the service of something with more fidelity to the originals’ storytelling philosophy.
There was another Ghost in the Shell art book released at around the same time as this, known as Perfect Book 1995–2017 in Japan, and README 1995–2017 elsewhere. It’s focused on the three anime universes — Oshii’s movies, Stand Alone Complex, and Arise, so complements the Art of Ghost in the Shell very well. Much like this volume, it’s very out of print, and hard to find at anything approaching a sensible price. While I was incredibly fortunate to find a seller offering today’s book for around £20, Amazon.co.uk’s cheapest deal for it is £70, which is honestly far too much. There’s only one copy of README 1995–2017 on Amazon.co.uk, and it’s £90 for a scuffed version. No thanks. Everywhere else is asking for £140 plus, which is obscene. Unless I can find it cheaper, that may be the only English-language book that I miss out from my exhaustive ongoing GitS review series.
I’ll be back again soon with a review of another GitS-related artbook, this time the 2014 untranslated-from-Japanese Pieces Gem 01, from Shirow himself. Better break out the Google Lens again. Woo-hoo.
The Art of Ghost in the Shell
Written by: David S. Cohen
Publisher: Insight Editions (Titan Books)
Published: 22nd March, 2017
Language: English
Pages: 160
ISBN-13: 978–1683830009
