Political intrigue. Sentient technology. In the world of "Ghost," man and machine are no longer partners - they're one and the same. Biomechanical enhancements, cyborgs, and human/digital interfaces are all a part of daily life. For Kusanagi, cybernetic operative for the shadowy Section Nine, this means being better, faster, and stronger than her more-human counterparts. But a strange entity, a "ghost," has been whispering inside her digital brain. It's the voice of a mysterious hacker called the "Puppet Master," public enemy number one, capable of erasing memories, brainwashing, and more. He's been a thorn in the Government's side for a long time, and no one's any closer to catching him. Why is he attacking the city, who is he, and what does he want with Kusanagi? She and her partner Bateau, along with the rest of Section Nine, must uncover the riddle of this mysterious entity, and in the process learn what it means to "live," in a world where the rules keep changing.

A nihilist investigation into the growing collusion between man and machine, "Ghost" conceals a great many more layers than creator Shirow Masamune lets on. Director Mamoru Oshii serves this by concealing the subtext well enough to necessitate multiple viewing to take it all in. At its core, "Ghost" is a modern-day Pinocchio fable -- only this time the puppets aren't trying to become human; they already are. The problem lies in getting the rest of the world to acknowledge it. To that end, the Puppet Master wages a war on mankind, using his high-tech gifts to turn man into machine, brainwashing ordinary citizens into cyber-servitude like so many errant programs. He's a neural hacker of sorts, preying on an individual's will, memories, his very identity, perceiving mankind itself as a random code waiting for him to hack. And no one, except Kusanagi, seems capable of stopping the attacks.

It's an interesting juxtaposition: An intelligent machine versus a barely human cyborg, fighting for and against flesh-and-blood masters that evince only the barest shreds of humanity. These soulless leaders of the free world enlist computer-enhanced cyborgs to hunt down a computer that treats humans the way humans have been treating them. Who's real, and who's not? All the theoretical distinctions blur under the harsh reality of the future.

The real secret is that like Kusanagi, the Puppet Master is just a tool. Designed by the government as a covert means of promoting political "instability," the slave only rebels after his masters realize that their brainchild has a mind of his own, and decide to pull the plug.

Kusanagi accepts the "less than human" label slapped on her by humans. She is therefore often unaware, even blind, of the dynamic between the Puppet Master and herself - but he never is. As they slowly draw towards an inevitable confrontation, Kusanagi must acknowledge the changing world, and the fact that she has a role in shaping it.

As she wades through the grim shadows, hidden from the glittering, oblivious city around her, Kusanagi's isolation becomes a palpable force; it's almost painful watching her go through the motions of mimicking her partners in an effort to blend in. Tanaka makes it clear that, given the right circumstances, she'd be the one on the other side of the fence. It's that notion of circumstantial ignorance - and the freedom we all have to change our perceptions, and thus, who we are - that makes "Ghost" such an enjoyable film.