Cowboy Bebop: The Movie... a quest.

            Cowboy Bebop (CB) is a series written by Keiko Nobumoto that I have been familiar with for a long time now. I first became a fan of the CB television series when I was roughly twelve years old when it ran on Cartoon Network’s Adult Swim. Staying up late and watching this show with its sometimes noir feel and peculiar jazz and blues fixation is honestly one of the best memories I have of my years growing up.

            Cowboy Bebop: The Movie borrows many, many elements from the anime series and functions them within the plot driven by Vincent. We have a dark antagonistic character willing to sacrifice anyone and anything in order to achieve his ends. We have Spike being Spike. We have a femme fatale. We have a story of star-crossed lovers (in fact, if you count Spike as part of it then we have three of them). We have a man seeking to escape from his current “life” with a woman he can share the rest of his time with. We have a man who has lost his past in some way. We have mysterious characters feeding clues to the characters. There is inevitable reuniting and battle between Spike and another character who shares a “similar soul” to him. And we even have bounty hunting and boobies! What more could we ask for? All of these elements are an integral part of what makes Cowboy Bebop what it is.

           

            For the purposes of this blog, I’d like to talk about aspects of “the quest” in CB: The Movie (CB:TM) and how it plays out in this story and some others as well. A popular theme for anime focusing on a masculine protagonist is the search for meaning, providence, or a true challenge to test character. This could be interpreted as a search for absolution. In CB:TM, the main conflict is between Spike and Vincent. Throughout most of the film, Spike is in search of Vincent because there would be an obvious monetary worth to this end. Of course, the plot thickens when Spike meets Vincent for the first time and becomes personally invested in encountering him. When Spike is talking to Electra, in jail, about his encounter with Vincent he says that he wants to meet him again because they have “similar souls.” This could easily be interpreted as Spike seeking out his “other” (to put things in somewhat Freudian terms) for reconciliation. In addition to the interpretive aspects of “the quest” in CB:TM there are also blatant allusions to it. The most obvious being when Spike awakens on the shore of a garbage dump at the campsite of an old Native American man and his pet wolf. The old shaman-esque man is called Laughing Bull and Spike often visits him for advice throughout all of the CB sessions. When it comes to interacting with Faye, Ed, and strangers, Spike tends to act extremely nonromantic (unless in dire circumstances) but his tendency to seek out information randomly in the city and taking advice from Laughing Bull reveals him to be a very romantic character on the inside. He doesn’t need to understand the details about his quest as long as he knows he is heading in the right direction. Considering the dark elements present in the CB stories, Spike’s conquering of all obstacles portrays this sort of philosophy about life in a very positive light (which I love). 

            Nobumoto has written another series that features a sort of “quest” for the main characters in which very different “lights” are shed on the search for absolution, meaning, or providence. As discussed by Susan Napier of Nobumoto’s latter series in Anime, Wolf’s Rain has an extremely dark and hopeless conclusion making it appear as though the search for providence could ultimately be a waste of time. The shape shifting wolves of the series are lead in a search for the Lunar Flower and “Paradise” by Kiba, an Arctic wolf, who believes that the grim world Freeze City can’t be all that is left for them. This quest clearly differs drastically from the one in CB:TM in that it deals with a search for some intangible rather than a person. But, in much the same way that Kiba searches for the Lunar Flower, Spike searches for clues about Vincent and the nano-machines in the capital of Mars. In Wolf’s Rain, this quest ends in tragedy – all of the wolves die with Kiba lamenting that there really is no “Paradise,” just an endless search. In CB:TM, Vincent is revealed to be incapable of realizing his goals because he could not reconcile with Spike and avoid getting killed at the same time. So I guess you could draw a comparison between Kiba’s relentless ambitions to find the Lunar Rose at any cost and Vincent although I would have to say that Kiba’s objectives were a bit more admirable. I have to empathize with Vincent a little bit though. I’m sure that we’ve all had one of those days where we wish that everyone on the planet would just keel over, go brain dead, and die while shitting nano-bots. But, I mean, hey, what are you going to do? If your ultimate goal involves killing everyone on the planet and Spike is standing in your way with that charming grin on his face, what are you going to do? You’re going to get your ass kicked.

            To sum things up nicely, I’d like to discuss briefly the chemistry between Spike and Vincent. If you have seen the full anime series, it’s no mystery why Spike says that he and Vincent have a “similar soul.” One of Spike’s primary struggles in the series is that he is heart-broken and without meaning since Julia (his “true love”) died. Vincent operates perfectly as Spike’s evil double because he too has lost his lover but, unfortunately, he doesn’t realize that his lover is still alive. His loss of his memory equates him to Spike when Spike had left the syndicate to lay low in order to convince Vicious (Spike’s old partner in crime – literally) that he’s dead. Laying low wasn’t easy for Spike and he often struggled with depression because he felt like he was a wandering soul with no purpose. In the same situation where Spike decided he would rather be sad and eat microwavable noodles, Vincent decided that he was pissed at the world for what happened to him and that he was going to exact revenge by creating an apocalypse and rebirthing the human race from his own loins. This sort of character dynamic between Spike and Vincent is what makes for a really good climactic fight scene.

            It seems to me like what Spike always wants is a good fight or a challenge. Since he lost Julia he has always been a wandering lone wolf. When he is searching for clues regarding Vincent, Spike meets a man in the marketplace of the capital named Rashid. Rashid asks Spike on more than one occasion, “Did you find what you’re looking for?” The repetition of the same question in a changing context suggests that it’s a question that is intended to be deconstructed from the confines of context in order to be applied in a meaningful way. I think that this question is one that should be asked of everyone from time to time because finding meaning in what you do is important for all of us. In regards to spike and CB:TM, I think Spike found what he was looking for as a character: a good fight.

Ghost in the Shell OVA

            My initial reactions to Ghost in the Shell:

            GITS is a film that I came to this class being familiar with. In addition, I’m somewhat familiar with the transhumanist themes among others present in it. Upon this second viewing of the film two particular subjects stood out the strongest to me: gender roles and the immortality of information or knowledge.

              Throughout the entire film the viewer is exposed to imagery containing Motoko Kusanagi’s “naked” body – her thermo-optic camouflage has a special transparent suit. We see that, although she has a feminine body structure and breasts, Motoko has no genitalia – suggesting that she may also have no sexuality. One of my close friends, also a fan of the Ghost in the Shell: Stand Alone Complex series, argued that it was simply due to making the film accessible. He thought that, if genitalia were present in the film, it would have never received a large audience due to a mature rating. I remain convinced that it was a decisive move made with narrative intent - in the English major we are taught to approach books and movies as though every detail has a purpose. I thought that her gender identity was an interesting aspect of the narrative because it plays absolutely no important role in the film until the very end. At the end of the film, of course, Project 2501 or The Puppet Master is seeking a partner with whom “he” can use to propagate his “code” of sorts. He’s essentially searching for a digital mate. During the exchange of dialog, Motoko states that she feels that she is getting the short end of the stick in the deal but never mentions why.

            I see it as there being two possible explanations for her feelings:

            One: Acting as the “birther” lends her the maternal role.

            Two: Joining with him would make her “life” a lot more complicated.
I would be interested in hearing some other opinions.

           

            In GITS we encounter a couple different forms of transcendence. The basic form that is common in the film’s universe is a “ghost.” This is the remaining personality traits or information and knowledge from someone’s biological lifetime that exists in their cyborg body. Motoko is a ghost – as are many other people in Section 9. The second and more complex form of transcendence (or maybe simpler if you consider the resources consumed – maybe “abstract” is a better word than “complex”) is The Puppet Master and his means of self-replicating. He remains the same entity – growing, changing, and seemingly thinking – but he can’t reproduce in a way that promotes diversification. Earlier on in the film, Motoko tells her partner that “specialization leads to stagnation.” This philosophy fits perfectly with The Puppet Master’s motivation for reproducing in a way that mixes his code with that of another entity or ghost. There is some foreshadowing about TPM’s motives part-way through the film. The foreign affairs officers from Section 6 mention, after securing The Puppet Master’s shell, that maybe “he” was searching for someone he had a fancy for but, ultimately, write the idea off as being nonsense. 

 He looks a bit Christ-like in this shot, doesn't he?

            In Akira we saw large overarching themes of death, rebirth, and immortality. I think that this is a big focus for serious writers of anime and manga because of the effects that Buddhism, Taoism, and spiritualist beliefs had throughout history on the Eastern world. In Akira we saw a spiritual or supernatural force acting to preserve the minds or wills of certain characters in the film, namely Tetsuo and Akira. In the context of posthumanism or transhumanism (I’m not entirely sure which one is appropriate for either one of these films) there needs to be something responsible for the advancement that permits the transcendence beyond death. That "something," being a development of technological or spiritual nature, is what makes these films works of Science Fiction. In contrast to Akira, Ghost in the Shell uses the fusing of human consciousness and technology as that medium. This is the mechanism upon which the entire narrative of the films operate. Those are my thoughts (thus far) on the two major subjects of “transcendence” and “gender” in GITS.

            TIME FOR ME TO TALK ABOUT WHAT I DIDN’T LIKE SO MUCH:

I liked the animation, art style, and ideas behind GITS more than I like it as a movie. Some of the character driven dialog scenes felt like dumping to me. Motoko’s conversation with Batou, after she goes diving, seems like it goes on and on and on forever. She gets so intense with what she is talking about that I think most people would think she’s crazy if it were a real life scenario. Surely, what she is saying makes sense but she almost broke character. For the majority of the film she seems almost completely emotionless and then this scene comes along and she gets really worked up.

            But I digress; I get more upset about “character” issues than I should. It is anime after all and anime is notorious for being over-dramatic. Some things you simply need to take with a grain of salt no matter how much of a “proper writing snob” you are. I’d like to emphasize that I only get worked up because I feel invested in the film and internalized much of it in a big way.

            GREAT, NOW THAT THAT’S OVER:

            Let’s talk about one of the best parts of the film – something that probably no one can say wasn’t amazing – the imagery. The imagery of this film is outstanding and was sometimes so beautiful that it brought chills to my spine; particularly the scenes with active camouflage.

            When Motoko takes down the black market puppet we get to see a very interesting fight scene that is reminiscent of Luke Skywalker learning to “see” with the force. When Luke is training, he guards himself from harmless (but painful) laser shots from a tiny orbital turret. But, in this scene, the character that could mirror Luke fails in blocking the shots and gets brutally injured. Damages including but not limited to: broken wrist, broken ankle, and broken face. 

            Motoko sneaks around the man invisibly, not even making a ripple in the water, as he lunges and strikes out at where he thinks she is. After she throws him over in the water, we see sparkling ripples collide with her ankles and her camouflage flickers with a subtle pulse – showing the audience her silhouette. Despite it being such a grizzly fight, the appearance of ripples seem like those of raked sand in traditional Japanese shrines in which lines are interrupted by trees, rocks, and other decorative additions that feature ripples of their own.

          When Motoko strikes down the thug with a roundhouse kick we see she is performing very fluid movements which also perpetuate the water motif. Considering her love for diving and the involvement of water with her fighting – at the beginning when we see her “shell” being created and at the end of the film the climactic face-off between her and the armored tank – water comes to represent her and her life in many ways. Once he is down for the count she deactivates her camouflage and we see she is wearing a face-mask not unlike the one Luke wears.

            I began asking myself, while watching the film, “what is it that Motoko has to live for? Why does she persist?” These questions are main thematic considerations in numerous other anime featuring a powerful or unbeatable character. In Dragon Ball Z, (just to throw out an obvious example) during The Cell Saga, the antagonist Cell's motivation for fighting all of the main characters is that he simply wants to test his ingeniously designed "perfection." My only answers for Motoko were that she loves the freedom of fighting and she is fascinated with the feelings she experiences in water. And, of course, when she starts thinking that she is bored with living she can always be comforted in the thoughts that she will eventually end up dying in combat – which is all too plausible considering her risky and selfless tendencies.

Matoko Kusanagi walks the fine line between life and death – in doing so, she puts her pristine sense of balance to the test.

     
What did you think about Ghost in the Shell?