Lost in adaptation: ‘Ghost in the Shell’ and ‘Death Note’

Two manga/anime-to-movie adaptations have come out this year, courtesy of the US. Having two different premises, sources, genres and studios behind it, you would be tempted to think at least one of them would triumph. Unfortunately, that wasn’t the case.

In fact, the two films have unexpectedly similar circumstances that have plagued their production and reception. For example, one of the earliest issues both films faced was the accusation of ‘whitewashing’ their originally Japanese characters. Protagonists Major and Light were played by non-Asian actors Scarlett Johansson and Nat Wolff.

But I would argue that changing the characters’ ethnicity wasn’t really the main problem of the films. To some extent, it was ‘whitewashing’ the stories what ultimately hurt the narratives.

As a viewer, I’ve always believed that stories that go above and beyond frontiers have more power to them. Great stories have a universal appeal, and when cultural boundaries are addressed it’s because they have something to add to the story itself.

For example, when I watched Ghost in the Shell earlier this month, I found myself thinking that Major was a character that could be played by anyone from anywhere. The ‘issue’ of Johansson’s casting as Major didn’t really bother me¹, except for the ethics of opening the market to Asian or Asian-American actors, which I absolutely support.

However, after watching Death Note, my personal view was challenged. Perhaps because I’m more emotionally invested in the Death Note anime series than in the Ghost in the Shell anime film –and yes, I’ve watched them both-, I realized how much could get lost in translation by just changing th cultural background of the characters.

Watching an overly-emotional L and a skittish Light go at it in the Netflix film, while having the almost impassive, introspective characters of the anime in mind, was quite an odd journey. Seeing Light cowering and moved to tears, or L screaming and running down the streets with a gun, all I could think of was: “this would never happen with the Japanese versions of Light and L”.

There are intricacies of Japanese culture that affect how family life, romance, and professional expectations affect the behavior of the characters. Once these are completely removed, they become other people entirely.

Thus, a strikingly alienating sensation accompanied me throughout the entire movie. The Netflix version was distinctly ‘American’ in the way characters related to each other –for example: in school, at home, at the workplace, etc.-, in how they turned to physical violence instead of contemplation, and even in the stylistic choices that focused more on creating gory scenes straight out of Final Destination, rather than concentrating in the cat-and-mouse game.

With Ghost in the Shell, however, Johansson’s emotional portrayal actually helped me connect with the character, something I couldn’t achieve when I first watched the original anime movie. I found the characters too cold and alien for me to feel something towards them, or care for what happened to them.

And yet, although I ultimately enjoyed Ghost in the Shell more than Death Note, the former is just as flawed as the latter. That is because the worst crime both films commit is failing to comprehend or capture what the meaning of the original story was.

In the original Ghost in the Shell, Major’s character is undergoing a complex journey of self-awareness that ultimately leads her to the path of surpassing the human condition. The American version falls short by creating an enticing -but not as complex- story of finding the humanity within the machine.

Death Note focuses on a couple of apparently simple questions: what is ‘Justice’ and who should wield it? This prompts an intricate game in which two masterminds, completely convinced of embodying real Justice, are pitted against each other. The Netflix version reduces this to a rushed struggle between a guy who aims to impress his girlfriend by becoming a god, and the young man who wants to capture him out of duty and, later on, revenge.

Something is getting lost in the adaptation of manga and anime to live-action American films.

A few years ago, when the Rurouni Kenshin movies were coming out, I addressed the matter of American adaptations by suggesting a few things they could learn from those. And, believe me, the Japanese movies aren’t perfect! Many of them fall into the category of almost scene-by-scene adaptations, miss the point completely, or are hurt by low budgets and poor acting.

Still, the Rurouni Kenshin trilogy is a good example of what should be done. By following the anime loosely, but keeping the spirit of the characters and the story intact, it became probably the most praised anime-to-live-action adaptation made thus far.

It’s not perfect, and sometimes it panders to the audience by maintaining elements that clearly work only in anime or manga. But, for the most part, the filmmakers knew what to cut out, modify or keep entirely, in order to deliver great movies.

In Ghost in the Shell and Death Note, the spirit is either somewhat hinted at or completely gone. And although an adaptation should be able to modify or add to the original, if the spirit is compromised: is it really worth it?

The most troubling thought is that the American versions show an inherent distrust on their own audience. Someone behind the wheel –either the studios or the filmmakers- believe thorny themes can’t be comprehended by the viewers, and are therefore ‘not marketable’. Then again, the overwhelmingly negative response to this watered-down versions seems to say otherwise.

I still enjoy the Ghost in the Shell adaptation. But I can admit that it’s not as transcendent and groundbreaking as the original. Perhaps had the filmmakers made this a prequel or unrelated sequel to the events of the original, the reception would have been kinder, since it’s still a very interesting -although quite conventional- story.

Something similar could be applied to Death Note. Since these are clearly not L, Light and Misa, why not make it an uncorrelated sequel that acknowledges the original –for example, presenting a new character willing to continue Kira’s work, and having one of L’s successors go after him/her- while exploring a new story and, most importantly, a new take on the overall subject.

Despite my disenchantment, I ultimately won’t join the choir of voices claiming Hollywood should stop adapting anime or manga. Mainly because they have the resources, talent and power to make great films that will reach a wider audience and, hopefully, inspire them to plunge into the extensive and rich world of anime.

Still, seeing the latest submissions, and considering the rumors of Akira, Neon Genesis Evangelion, Alita, Cowboy Bebop, Attack on Titan, and many others, being looked at for possible upcoming adaptations… I’m definitely worried.

But for now, all we can do… is wait!

Notes:

¹ On the other hand, the fact that the filmmakers chose to consciously make the problem of Major’s ethnicity part of the narrative by addressing her former life as a Japanese girl, deserves an analysis on its own.