Oshii’s personal nexus of memories and reminiscences, a work of artistic integrity so highly intimate and overtly sincere in its sadness and sense of emptiness, yet carrying a permeating sense of resilience, reflecting in the need for perseverance to carry on in daily life in spite of grievances and traumas.

A polar opposite to the original 1995 film, Innocence is far less esoteric, choosing to sink itself in the detail of daily life. Togusa as the family man becomes ever so relatable, particularly with the desperation to come home to your wife and kid in the face of danger. Batou’s isolative nature with his dog as his sole companion in off-duty solitude, it becomes key to how we process the emotional center of Innocence, because Gabriel is a tangible tether to being happy, something it feels like everyone searches for within this film, whether in pleasure, festivals, or others. Whilst traversing the streets, they are far more bustling and often times more dingy, harsh oranges and feelings of sliminess are often on the mind. Yet they feel warmer, and more experienced and lived-in than the futurist nature of GITS’ architecture. Grocery shops, grimy alleyways, domestic spaces all fill in one half of the settings, breathing normalcy into the world of Batou, and when these spaces are violated and upended, it feels genuinely shaking. The opulence of the other places that Batou and Togusa take foot in, they’re breathtaking to no end. And still, the film is no less challenging than its previous sister film, but I always felt this one reverberating in my heart. The action is perhaps the least interesting part of Oshii’s films, but the transience towards feelings of the ephemeral as well as the gentle are always going to be what I cherish the most.

More than anything, Innocence reminded me of spectres whom I once knew as people, whose time with me was limited, but they still feel interlinked with me on some spiritual level. Feeling the presences of ghosts and spirits consistently surround you, and aid you in the most important parts of your life. I used to never mention them, the people who I never really knew growing up, yet their impact is so integral to my life, even after the two decades without them. To silence myself on speaking of them is to choose not to remember, but I do. I do want to remember them forever.

So, I know they'll be with me. Always and forever.

I'll see you soon, Innocence. You'll be in my thoughts for a long, long time.