NEW WAYS OF PRESENTING ANIME GIVE BIRTH TO NEW HOPE
Mamoru Nagano (Designer)

Becoming a Professional Staff Member
What sights does a young person witness on this journey? Isn’t the mission of those involved in visual media not to talk about dreams, but to show them? Day by day, Mamoru Nagano cultivates his eye for seeing the world.

Nagano: What sparked my interest in creating anime films? Well, it’s quite a simple notion, really. I wanted to see my mecha designs and characters come to life. It’s a rather ordinary motivation, I suppose. You know those exhilarating Lupin the III works like Wings of Death – Albatross, Aloha Lupin, and The Castle of Cagliostro? I thought, “Wouldn’t it be great if I could give people that same rush of excitement?” Even without an intricate plot, I wanted to create visually stunning sequences that just feel good to watch.

Now, I find myself on the production side of things, but I’m not particularly inclined to animate or direct personally. It’s a different ball game altogether. In my view, Hayao Miyazaki is currently the only one capable of crafting works with that particular ambiance, both in terms of environment and sheer talent. There are a few others who come close to Miyazaki’s visual style, but their work often carries a certain… heaviness or discomfort, regardless of the overall quality. Perhaps Ichiro Itano’s “Itano Circus” is an exception – it’s a tad dark, but I think it hits the mark.

These days, I’m collaborating with Yoshiyuki Tomino. His works don’t possess the same thrill as Miyazaki’s, but they have an incredible gravitational pull. Take Gundam for instance – you can’t help but be drawn into the on-screen drama. It’s an element that Miyazaki’s works don’t have. Miyazaki’s creations are the kind you can watch repeatedly, each time thinking, “Ah, that’s brilliant!” They have a similar appeal to Star Wars.

Tomino’s works, on the other hand, have an atmosphere reminiscent of Akira Kurosawa. They’re somber, for lack of a better word, but they create a world that we can’t help but immerse ourselves in wholeheartedly. Sure, you might watch Lupin III and think, “Wow, that Lambda is incredible! That Albatross is amazing!” But it doesn’t necessarily inspire you to conceptualize the next evolution of Lambda. With Gundam, there’s a joy in imagining your own mobile suits or contemplating different world scenarios. It’s up to the viewer to decide which style they prefer, and of course, it’s perfectly fine to enjoy both. They’re both phenomenal in their own right!

I’ll tell you what though – and this might sound a bit cheeky – I have a feeling that if we could somehow merge Miyazaki’s anime with Tomino’s, we’d create something truly extraordinary! (laughs) It’s amusing to imagine what kind of fascinating work might emerge if Tomino were to storyboard using Miyazaki’s timing. It’s a fun thought experiment, isn’t it?

Nagano: Since I started this job, I’ve gained a lot of insights. But I never felt despair. I’m saying this for the first time, but I’ve always had a clear end goal in mind. I thought I’d first mention it in Animage, and here we are. (laughs)

I took on character design and mecha design jobs, but they’re just that – ‘jobs’. For me, it wasn’t a big deal or a small deal; it was simply a fact that I became busier. Creating the characters for L-Gaim or designing Heavy Metal – I don’t consider these particularly significant achievements. When I play around so much in the setting documents, it’s ultimately just a warm-up. I’m not pouring my heart and soul into it. The director understands this, so he doesn’t say anything.

When you’re tasked with both characters and mecha, you can’t help but delve into the story aspect to draw or come up with design ideas. It’s a bit like being a manga artist, I suppose? For characters and mechanics to sync in design, you need to envision everything from scene settings to situational setups to the overall narrative. You can’t just say, “Oh, this character is like that person, so maybe the mecha should be like this…” A latent story bubbles up first, and designs follow. That’s how my version of L-Gaim started to emerge in the latter half. But I can’t fully unleash Nagano’s L-Gaim. It’s my personal world, a solo performance of sorts, so I can’t let it permeate everything. That would be dangerous, I think. So for now, I’m content with releases like Kadokawa Shoten’s L-Gaim 1 and 2.

Tomino and I often joke about our goals. I didn’t join Nippon Sunrise just to do character and mecha design. Right now, I can only describe my trade as “animation designer.” After a year, I’m starting to get a feel for things. I understand Nippon Sunrise’s shift now. I’ve realized, ‘Ah, if you make this kind of anime, it generally turns out like this.’ Looking at staff composition, I can read into how things were made and what they were thinking. Now I’m beginning to consider, “What if I were to take the lead?”

Fans often say things like, “You should have done it this way” or “It would have been more interesting if you did that,” but I’ve learned that in such cases, it’s best to just do it yourself. I’ve realized that pushing my own agenda partially in such situations only leads to personal struggle and doesn’t steer things in a good direction. As a fan, there are bound to be various dissatisfactions, but as a staff member (regardless of whether you’re main or guest), I think you shouldn’t criticize. If you have complaints, you should be prepared to do it yourself – that’s what being staff means. To be blunt, if staff members gripe, I don’t consider them true staff. So I’ve decided not to complain at all. If I were to say something like, “I wish the machines moved a bit more in L-Gaim” in a setting like this, the response would be, “Well, why didn’t you take a storyboard and animate it yourself?” If someone were to say, “You were in a position to do that, why didn’t you?,” I’d have no comeback.

For L-Gaim, I was fortunate to have detailed discussions with Imagawa, who directed episode 49, and Sugishima, who directed the finale. We pushed the storyboards as far as we could within the constraints of a TV series. Compared to six months ago, I feel I’ve made some progress. I managed to motivate the directors somewhat. Of course, even if I provided ideas, it was just that – providing ideas, not doing it myself. But I’ve managed to get this far, so I can move on to the next step. Before that, though, there’s Zeta Gundam to tackle – another hurdle to overcome. (laughs)

Nagano: Currently, I’m accumulating ideas faster than I can express them. I understand what Tomino said in Animage about “spitting out everything you have,” but in practice, when you work the way I do, things pile up quicker than you can get them out. It’s true that the more I work, the more this backlog grows. On the design front, I’m certainly burning through the ideas in my head. But I always maintain that final line when designing. The reason I didn’t reveal a B-template is because it’s my ultimate design.

I really dislike finalizing designs. L-Gaim ended up with that particular design, and the Mk-II happened to have that look, but the L-Gaim and the Mk-II I’ve been drawing since then have been subtly changing. From the face design to the way the shoulders rise… not necessarily becoming cooler, mind you. I dislike saying, “This is it, period.” B-template is something I conceptualized from scratch, and its design is still evolving in my mind. I wanted to keep one of these works-in-progress to myself.

I’m going to refine Auge one more time for the finale. Just to avoid confusion for the viewers, let me clarify that while the design is different, it’s exactly the same Auge that Nei piloted. Why is it different? Simply because I changed the design… that’s all there is to it. (laughs) I think it’s similar to how painters use the same motif multiple times. For anime fans who might be familiar, there’s H.R. Giger (the Swiss artist who designed the creature for the movie Alien). He has the Necronomicon series. Necronomicon goes from I to V, and it shows the progression leading up to the Alien used in the movie. It’s not that every design evolves – you can see him changing perspectives, altering layouts, trying to reach his ultimate design in his own way.

There’s such a thing as individual expression, right? You might present a work at a certain point saying, “This is it,” but a year later, you see too many imperfections… that’s natural. Generally, the very first version has the strongest impact, but that’s to be expected. The Death Anchor I presented in Starlog keeps changing. The cover of Kadokawa’s L-Gaim 1 – that’s Death Anchor III. If you’re wondering what Death Anchor II is, it’s the Mk-II illustration I presented in the July issue of Animage. It has the same composition, but it’s changed that much.
The Temple series is also an outlet for design evolution. When I got fed up with A-template, I wanted to bring out B-template. That was fine, but wanting to incorporate elements beyond B resulted in C-template. Although they don’t appear on screen, I’ve thought up to F. The same applies to L-Gaim – what I couldn’t fit into Mk-I went into Mk-II. Eventually, I’ll have to create Mark II-N as well.

The vast setting documents for L-Gaim – I only see them as a lump. Of course, they’re still changing, but as far as the TV series goes, I’ve done what I could. I have no intention of fixating on the TV series and saying, “We could only do this much on TV, so let’s remake it as a movie.” That’s not good at all. When I said, “I have no intention of taking the initiative” (with L-Gaim), that’s what I meant. Introducing a large number of people with the same motif and calling it straight is, in my opinion, self-indulgent. At the very least, I see works as “individual entities,” so I can’t create in that way.

Nagano: Next year, we’re finally diving into Zeta Gundam (Gundam II). It’s going to be a firsthand experience of why all these “Part II” projects – be it Raiders or Star Wars – end up the way they do. And I’m not joking when I say it’s going to be worth participating in. The impact of the first episode is going to be tremendous. We’re doing exactly what Star Wars always does, starting with the appearance of a massive spaceship – so look forward to that.

Right now, fans seem to have a lot of pent-up frustration towards anime. I think a large part of what Tomino, other staff members, and probably myself are doing has become somewhat predictable to the fans. They might think, “Oh, a new Tomino anime. Well, let’s see what he makes us ponder this time,” or “A Miyazaki work? That’ll be enjoyable as always.” Or they might wonder, “Why does this show have such great art but no story?” or “Why does that one have a solid drama but feels so outdated?” We’ve reached a level where just introducing new shows or new talent isn’t enough. We need to change our own thinking. It would be great if that shift became apparent in various aspects of our work.

The ideal situation would be if people could anticipate new shows with genuine excitement, like opening a surprise box. Now, you might ask, “Is there a quick solution?” I can’t say right now, but there certainly is one. There’s definitely a way to present through the medium of anime. To achieve that, as an immediate goal, we need to make presentations across various media. It’s about approaching things differently, beyond just creating good anime works. Don’t worry, I’m not going to say something silly like I’m going to start drawing manga. (laughs)

For now, please pin your hopes on these developments. We’re working towards something new and exciting in the world of anime.

Source: Animec, January 1985