GHOST IN THE SHELL: SAC_2045. A Successful Return

In 2020, Ghost in the Shell returned, but in a fresh and uncharacteristic way.
The tone shifts, the themes change. The spirit, however, remains the same. And that’s a good thing. Because while it gives a breath of fresh air to those weary of grandiose pathos, it also satisfies those devoted to the genre’s tradition.

A seasoned science fiction enthusiast will notice the differences between Japanese SF and that created in the West. The Japanese seem to be a step ahead in their way of thinking and in the conclusions they draw. Culturally, being much more accustomed to new technologies, they’ve learned to coexist with them — which allows them to approach the topic of artificial intelligence far more boldly in their visions.

While the West remains stuck in the stagnation of clichés, telling the same story over and over — of a robot rebelling against its creator — the Japanese have already managed to tame that robot, to quiet the fear it embodies, and to reach entirely different conclusions.

Watching the opening sequence of Ghost in the Shell: SAC_2045, one might get the feeling they’ve seen it before. I don’t mean the previous entries in the Ghost in the Shell universe, whose intros are something of a hallmark. Rather, the carefully rendered process of creating a synthetic body — specifically that of the main character — reminded me of Westworld. Perhaps the most talked-about science fiction series of recent years begins in exactly the same way.

The difference between the new GitS and Westworld, however, lies in the music. While the HBO production uses a solemn score to signal how seriously the viewer should take it, the new Ghost in the Shell opts for surprise — weaving into its intro the lively and catchy tune “Fly with Me” by Millennium Parade.

After this slightly lengthy preamble, let’s get to the point. I brought up the show’s opening sequence for a reason. I think it perfectly encapsulates what the new Ghost in the Shell achieves — something Western sci-fi often fails to do. I mean being smart, engaging, aesthetically appealing, ideologically grounded, and yet at the same time light, easygoing, playful, and simply fun. I’m getting tired of science fiction that presents itself as though it’s discovering America, when in fact it says nothing new — endlessly repeating clichés that date back to the times of Isaac Asimov.

Ghost in the Shell: SAC_2045, on the other hand, goes in a completely different direction. It creates a compelling space for adventure in a cybernetic world where every character already has technology embedded in their DNA. There’s no need to waste time on tedious world-building, explaining the dangers, or outlining the state of things. The future is happening right now, before our eyes — it’s time to move one step further.

That maturity is visible right from the start, as the viewer is introduced to the story. The action takes us to the year 2045 — years after the events of the original Ghost in the Shell film, and also long after Stand Alone Complex, the series to which this new production refers. The former members of Section 9 are now top-tier mercenaries, operating under unique circumstances — during what’s called a “sustainable war,” a state of conflict maintained permanently as a remedy for the global economic crisis. It is also a form of hibernation, keeping the threat of artificial intelligence at bay.

A side effect of this process is the emergence of “posthumans” — living examples of transhumanism, humans who have been enhanced through technology in uncontrolled ways. And who better to face this new threat than Major Motoko Kusanagi herself?

The new GitS is a joy to watch because it immediately assures viewers that the franchise hasn’t lost its soul. At first, while watching the trailer, I struggled with the new animation style. It felt less like classic manga and more like a video game aesthetic. But later I realized — that was intentional.

SAC_2045 is an incredibly dynamic creation. Sharp, meaty dialogues alternate with equally powerful action scenes. The episodes are short — no more than 25 minutes — leaving little room for boredom. This intense posthumanist adventure, however, still allows for brief, surprising pauses for thought.

Since I opened with this idea, I’ll close with it too: sometimes it’s not about what you say, but how you say it. GitS never tries to lecture its audience or to reveal some secret knowledge about humanity’s future. It’s far from being a moral tale — the original film and its more philosophical sequel, Innocence, already took care of that. Here, it’s clear that the creators focused on delivering pure entertainment for their fans.

With witty writing, brisk action, and likable characters — that’s all it needed. The most important thing is that, as a whole, it’s intelligent without being pretentious. In the storyline about the posthumans lies an unpleasant reflection of ourselves — declining beings for whom technology no longer merely threatens, but begins to imprison. But you don’t have to think that deeply. You can just sit back, watch Major Motoko’s dazzling moves in a fight, and wink back at her.