Critics reviews

Never particularly interested in the demands of narrative, Oshii uses the noir-ish plotline as a framework for more idiosyncratic strategies, like a hallucinatory sequence that's as jarring as anything conceived by the late Satoshi Kon, the fellow anime maverick whose films Perfect Blue (1996) and Paprika (2006) are unparalleled exercises in self-destructing storytelling.

The elegance, attention to detail, the invention and expertise all ensure that the movie's never less than visually breathtaking, the monumental sense of scale (especially during a festival scene) beautifully balanced by intimate characterisations – most notably in the improbably instance of a wonderfully endearing basset hound.

The film brims with foreboding, but it pulses with candy colors and the hum of neon signs. It has such exquisite play between human darkness and manufactured light that you often wonder who foots the electric bill. Yet for a movie so alive with opulent and inventive images and sequences, the cop feels more memorable in a kind of classic, black-and-white sense.

Mamoru Oshii's follow-up to his superb 1995 anime is easy on the eyes and obnoxious on the ears. The images speak for themselves - stunningly rendered cityscapes; sleek, uncanny automatons; monumental phantasmagoria - but the movie just won't shut up... Zone out the philo-sci-fi claptrap and the visually splendid "Innocence" may be regained for the non-geek.

In this plaintive, often stunningly beautiful anime, where sex dolls commit virtual seppuku against a swirl of film noir intrigue, philosophical speculation, eye-popping images and serious science-fiction cool, a toxic cloud hangs over all tomorrow's parties.

Mamoru Oshii's 2004 follow-up to his 1995 anime noir is that rare sequel that surpasses the original... The pair are as erudite as they are hard-boiled: when they're not gunning down yakuza thugs they're speculating on the nature of being and consciousness and making references to Confucius, Plato, the Bible, and the legend of the golem.

As gloriously impenetrable as its title, and even more visually spectacular than its precursor, Mamoru Oshii's new anime—Ghost in the Shell 2: Innocence—can be most simply described as an animated film noir populated by existential cyborgs.

Like its predecessor Ghost in the Shell, to which it is a partial sequel, Innocence uses a remarkable degree of visual acuity to represent and meditate on the new role of the body in 21st century technoscapes.