Ghost in the Shell

To confuse matters further, the film was partly financed by a British company, Manga Entertainment, keen to cash in on the success of Akira in the UK. It was an English-language version we got to see at Cinema City, projected from an original 35mm print flown in from Australia, such is the rarity involved. As such, the picture quality had an agreeably distressed appearance that somehow suited the aesthetic of the movie. This was a distinctive combination of hand-drawn characters wandering around beautifully hand-painted backdrops, enhanced and manipulated by digital compositing and CGI. It's a heady mix of styles and techniques, combining the depth and perspective you'd expect from modern animation with the charm and wit of traditional draftsmanship. To coin a phrase, they really don't make them like that anymore. Despite the intermittent emulsion scratches, the embedded dirt and colour fading, this was a feast for the eyes.

Back in the day, it may also have introduced a whole new adult audience to animation, though I think Akira has a better claim to that honour. What Ghost in the Shell is best known for is its exploration of consciousness. Kazunori Itō's screenplay is a compressed reinterpretation of Masamune Shirow's manga, stripped of its humour and subplots. While the manga explored a society where humans and machines have become increasingly integrated, the film goes one step further, questioning the point at which I am still me. Little wonder that its reputation has grown over the last thirty years – technology has finally caught up to the extent that we can better understand, indeed fear, the introspective, philosophical questions it raises. At what point does a robot, cyborg or computer simulating sentience actually become sentient? And if a cyborg can be sentient, why can't a computer program? Why can't it then protect itself with a giant super cannon? Well, all sorts of reasons, I'd suggest, but let that pass.

As an example of storytelling, I'd say it lacks the coherence to be considered a classic. One only has to consider the live-action remake. It may well have stripped the storyline of the deep and meaningful, but it is at least a proper story. The remake was, of course, pilloried by those who lionise the original, but I do wonder if the critical establishment sometimes confuses a film's capacity to generate discussion with the quality of the ideas it actually communicates.

However, whether or not its narrative wholly convinces, it remains a key milestone in cinema history. Ghost in the Shell is stunning to look at, and is further enhanced by Kenji Kawai's haunting score. It's a period piece, albeit one set in the near-future, and we will not see its like again. The opportunity to effectively time travel and see an original print is a privilege I won't quickly forget.