n the 1995 anime film Ghost in the Shell, a major international hit based on the manga by Masamune Shirow (writer of Appleseed and Dominion), grim cyborg special-forces agent Motoko Kusanagi dealt with deep philosophical issues regarding her humanity and the humanity of any machine or part-machine intelligence. She also kicked a great deal of ass. In the initial episodes of the 2002 television spinoff series Ghost in the Shell: Stand Alone Complex, she seems a lot less philosophical and a lot more functional. And she certainly still has the ass-kicking mojo. In fact, episode one begins with her shooting the foot off of a would-be terrorist and lecturing him in brutally black-and-white terms about his options, as if to prove that she's gotten over her lingering issues and gotten back to violent basics.
From there, the first three episodes on the series' initial American-release DVD deal with episodic, stand-alone cases handled by the Section 9 elite special forces. In one case, what seems to be a hostage crisis involving android geishas turns out to be a deeper espionage plot. With the help of her cyborg partner Batou and her distinctly non-cyborg teammate Togusa, "The Major," as she's typically called, goes through a rapid, cyberpunk version of a standard police procedural in order to track down the real suspect.
Later episodes deal with a rogue mecha on a rampage and with a strange rash of "suicides" among a certain model of nearly obsolete female androids; in each case, The Major's team tracks down the truth just in time for it to become almost moot. The final episode opens things up a bit by launching a longer plot arc, as Togusa gets a message from an old friend who's investigating a six-year-old police case regarding the mysterious "Laughing Man." Togusa's friend suspects something strange is going on with the other police investigators, and his suspicions seem to be confirmed when he abruptly turns up dead. Togusa begins his own investigation, which culminates in a bizarre incident that promises more to come.
An artificial life more ordinary
The initial episodes of Stand Alone Complex feel very much like episodes of the old classic Patlabor: The Mobile Police television series, complete with the mecha-loving woman at the center of the ensemble. Major Kusanagi isn't as feisty or vocal as her counterpart Noa Izumi, but she has a similar special relationship with her police-force partners, who respect her prowess but don't necessarily show it, and who don't necessarily understand her bond with machines. But as with Patlabor, Stand Alone Complex makes the characters more important than the machines, and often makes the latest plot more important than the characters. This tends to make the show feel a little dry and rote; it's all about how the story unfolds, and the characters don't necessarily seem to have much active part in it.
The original Ghost in the Shell was dry as well, but it was also lyrical, poetic and focused tightly on one interesting character. Once Stand Alone Complex gets past the initial scene of Kusanagi showing her stuff (not to be confused with the stuff she shows by wearing a skimpy, high-and-low-cut leotard most of the time), it doesn't focus strongly on anything. Kusanagi is presumably the star, but she's almost all about cut-and-dried business, and she rarely talks unless she's giving orders. And her partners don't seem to have a lot to say either. Batou, in the standard Shirow great-big-cyber-partner role, barely distinguishes himself from the background, Togusa seems like a standard nice-but-dull guy, and even Section 9 bigwig Aramaki is mostly around to look serious and give everyone someone to report to.
And where Ghost the movie centered on groundbreaking CGI, Complex deals in crisp but fairly standard television animation. The ubiquitous cyborg computer interfaces are handled with pizzazz, but everything else looks well animated but unremarkable. Mostly, it's just surprising that a series with such an outstanding pedigree would come across as so ordinary. There's nothing offensive or badly executed about Stand Alone Complex; it's all competent, though somewhat mechanical. There's just not a lot about it that really stands out as new or unusual.
Each episode of Stand Alone Complex ends with a fluid little animation starring the Tachikomas, little wheeled multi-ped mechas with high-pitched voices. Their cute, hyper antics have all the personality that the show itself lacks; they may come across as lightweight by comparison, but they have more heart than the human characters.
— Tasha
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