Inventions of Mamoru Oshii

Interviewer: Mr. Oshii, with the release of "The Sky Crawlers" just around the corner, it must be a busy time for you. Thank you again for taking the time to talk to us. Last time, you mentioned that you try to "invent" something new with each film. Have you invented anything new for this film?

Oshii: Oh, I’ve invented quite a few things. They are rather modest, though. (laughs) They are modest inventions. I doubt anyone would notice them. Speaking of which, you wanted to talk about how there are no patents for films, right?

Interviewer: Yes, please.

Oshii: Actually, there was a time when films were patented. That was during the dawn of filmmaking. Even airplanes used to be patented. Since I was working on "The Sky Crawlers," I did a lot of research on airplanes. The Wright brothers had a patent on their aircraft. They were Americans, weren't they? I think they owned a bicycle shop.

Interviewer: Ah, yes, that's right.

Oshii: So it used a chain drive, which is amazing. The first airplane was powered by an engine connected by a chain, an idea they got from bicycles. And it even had wheels underneath. While it had a sled-like structure, it also had wheels.

The Wright brothers obtained a patent for this invention because they wanted to prevent others from freely copying their aircraft. However, the French ended up copying and building their own planes, leading to disputes and even lawsuits. But the French courts didn't recognize the Wright brothers' patent, so replicas of their aircraft were produced one after another.

There is a similar, rather tragic history regarding patents in the early days of filmmaking. It's widely believed that Thomas Edison invented the motion picture, right? However, there was a man who claimed to have invented it before Edison. I believe the French government didn't acknowledge his claim.

Interviewer: France attributes the invention to the Lumière brothers.

Oshii: And in England, there was William Friese-Greene. The history of early cinema is surprisingly tragic. Some inventors ended their days in mental institutions, others drowned themselves, and some simply vanished.

Interviewer: You touched upon this briefly in your film "Talking Head," didn't you?

Oshii: Yes, I did. In that film, I mentioned how Georges Méliès spent his later years selling souvenirs with his last wife from a small stall. It's a well-known story. To put it bluntly, no one found true happiness during the pioneering days of cinema.

(laughter)

Oshii: Even George Eastman, the inventor of film, shot himself in the head.

Interviewer: That's right.

Oshii: That’s why I said in "Talking Head" that "the dawn of filmmaking was a cursed history."

Two Revolutions in Film

Oshii: In its initial stages, the invention of film was purely a technological one. The evolution of film relied heavily on technological innovation: the transition to sound films, color films, 70mm films. And of course, the most recent and significant revolution has been digitization. Broadly speaking, sound and color were the first two major innovations in film, with digitization being the third.

Interviewer: I see.

Oshii: However, from my perspective, these are all hardware revolutions. There was also a software revolution.

Interviewer: You’re referring to the birth of narrative film? Initially, apart from directors like Méliès, most films were documentaries. They featured scenery from around the world, festivals, ceremonies… always these kinds of things, all for profit. Or they would film moving vehicles because the very act of motion was magical. The early days were truly a time of magic. Film was presented as a spectacle, as "performance." Then Méliès came along and started creating films akin to special effects extravaganzas, pushing the boundaries of what film could be. However, I don't think even Méliès had conceived of the concept of narrative film at that point.

Interviewer: So, were there any attempts at that time to film, say, a Shakespearean play and declare it as a "story"?

Oshii: There might have been. In the beginning, it was likely all about recording theatrical performances on film. However, once the camera started moving, venturing out into the streets, that's when more dynamic narratives emerged. And with the inclusion of subtitles, film gained a voice.

In fact, I believe this was the true revolution in film: the introduction of drama and plot. In order to tell more compelling stories, filmmakers started moving the camera, taking it outside. Everything else followed from there.

Another software revolution was the rise of the star system. By having specific actors embody characters and personas, film became industrialized. This was an American invention. Apart from this, there hasn't been such a dramatic software revolution in film. In short, to support the narrative, film industrialized around the personalities and charisma of specific actors. The addition of sound and color simply served to enhance the narrative's power and reach.

On Controlling Information Density

Oshii: Film, in essence, is a form of brainwashing. The technological innovations—adding sound, color, expanding the frame to 70mm—all essentially aimed to increase information density. However, digitization differs fundamentally from previous innovations in that it allows for the control of information density.

This opens up even greater possibilities for film. Size, color, time—all become malleable. You can insert elements that don't exist and remove elements that are unnecessary. Everything becomes controllable. It’s the ultimate technology for filmmaking.

What I refer to as "inventing" in film goes beyond these technological advancements. It’s about exploring how film itself can be transformed by controlling the density of information, both by adding and subtracting it. In other words, can a controllable medium like animation achieve the same level of information density as live-action? That's my ultimate goal.

Interviewer: Have you made any progress towards that goal with this film?

Oshii: I'd say I've taken a half step forward.

Interviewer: What kind of inventions are we talking about specifically?

Oshii: The easiest to understand is the complete 3D rendering of the clouds. Clouds are constantly changing, yet in animation, they've always been treated as static elements, fixed in place. Unless it's for a specific, dramatic shot.

Interviewer: They are essentially treated as part of the background.

Oshii: Of course, there are exceptions, like "Nausicaä of the Valley of the Wind," which featured animated clouds. But in commercial anime films, there's a heavy reliance on background detail. You could even say that the history of animation is a history of increasingly detailed backgrounds. However, the pursuit of cramming more detail into a static frame ultimately leads to "three-dimensionalization." This means increasing information density by animating the background. It's not just about the painted details; it's about incorporating camera movement and the information conveyed through that movement. "Moving while changing" - that's the ultimate information density. Achieving that leads to a dramatic transformation in the work. It's not about meticulously detailed backgrounds; it's about the camera's movement that breathes life into the world.

But animating backgrounds inevitably leads to a decrease in the quality of information. When I was working on "Urusei Yatsura," I was really into animating backgrounds, so I did a lot of it.

Interviewer: You certainly did. (laughs)

Oshii: For a while, I animated everything—school buildings, streets, pedestrian bridges—based on the subjective movement of the camera. Of course, the drawings were rough as a result. The quality of information plummeted.

In "Chie the Brat," Mr. Takahata animated an entire residential area as a background, maybe for a marathon scene or something. I was stunned when I saw it.

Mr. Miyazaki, of course, is a master, a genius when it comes to background art. However, in "Spirited Away," he used digital technology to animate the backgrounds. And in "Princess Mononoke," he used 3DCG (texture mapping). If he were still in his prime, he would never have resorted to texture mapping. So when I saw it, I thought, "Mr. Miyazaki is getting old."

However, I believe Mr. Miyazaki himself felt the same way, which is why "Ponyo" was his counterattack. It was an attempt to reclaim animation for animators. While it was visually impressive, it still wasn't the "invention" I'm talking about. At the end of the day, it was still animation, and there was hardly any background art.

Because of this, the background artists at Ghibli were left with nothing to do, so I put them to work on "The Sky Crawlers." I think they ended up painting almost half of the backgrounds. It was a godsend for me! (laughs)

Interviewer: (bursts out laughing)

Oshii: Mr. Ishii (the producer), Mr. Nagai (the art director), everyone was overjoyed. "Thank you, Mr. Miyazaki!"

Interviewer: Thanks to Mr. Miyazaki. (laughs)

Oshii: They really did a lot of work.

Miyazaki's Counteroffensive

Oshii: Anyway, getting back on track, I think "Ponyo" is going to be a remarkable film. If you ask me, it's a reactionary work.

Interviewer: You mean a return to the past?

Oshii: It's counter-revolutionary. It's an attempt to return animation to the aristocracy, to the privileged few known as "animators." It's as if he's saying, "You commoners have made a mess of animation."

Maybe that's why Mr. Miyazaki dislikes Mr. Tezuka so much.

(laughter)

Oshii: It's obvious. This is his counteroffensive. To the world, Mr. Miyazaki might seem like a Jacobin, but to me, he's a Royalist. His actions have always been about resisting the democratization of animation. He often says things like, "One animated film a year is enough," or "Watching animation should be a ritual. Go to a theater to see it. I won't release it on video. Bring your children to the cinema." He believes that by doing so, the experience of watching animated films and manga-based films in childhood will stay with viewers forever. He’s even said things like, "Death to all incompetent animators. Go back to your hometowns!" (laughs)

All of this stems from his desire to keep animation within the grasp of the privileged few. It's true that democratization has led to a flood of garbage animation. Mr. Miyazaki despises this, loathes it like a venomous snake. But on the other hand, it was thanks to the emergence of this massive mountain of garbage animation—which, admittedly, includes works like "Space Battleship Yamato" and "Mobile Suit Gundam"—that Mr. Miyazaki was able to become a film director in the first place. There's no denying that.

Interviewer: That's true.

Oshii: The same goes for me and Mr. Takahata. Animation became mass-produced, creating this colossal mountain of trash. But it also created a vast market, which allowed us to become directors. Without it, we would have remained unknown, toiling away at Telecom Animation Film. We wouldn't have had a chance to make films.

So, what Mr. Miyazaki is doing is a rebellion. It’s his own personal value system as an animator. I don't necessarily disagree with it; I even sympathize with it to some extent. I mean, I hate garbage animation too. But I also recognize that it was thanks to that enormous mountain of trash that I was able to become a director. It created a foundation upon which many creators could emerge. Without it, we would have all remained obscure. It was undoubtedly due to the success of "Yamato" and "Gundam," which themselves were products of the accumulation of previous works, many of them forgettable. Mr. Tomino was able to create "Gundam" because of the countless robot anime that came before it, especially "Mazinger Z." "Gundam" didn't appear out of thin air. The same logic applies to "Yamato."

The Secrets of Optical Composition

Oshii: The "inventions" I strive for in animation are the complete opposite of Mr. Miyazaki's "reaction." Everything I do can be imitated. Everything I've done so far is something that anyone can copy.

Interviewer: You actively encourage imitation, don't you?

Oshii: Yes. I've even written books specifically to make it easier for people to copy my techniques.

Interviewer: It's like you're saying, "Please, imitate me."

Oshii: After reading my book, some people were apparently upset. They said things like, "Now all these nobodies are going to start ripping off the compositions from 'Patlabor.'" But if you ask me, I want people to imitate me. If more people try, those techniques will become commonplace. Even if it’s just one more person who learns about composition, that's a victory. The truth is, nothing begins unless you try to imitate something. I started by imitating others. My approach to composition design began with imitating Mr. Miyazaki, and then it gradually evolved into something of my own.

Interviewer: You mentioned that last time. Which aspects of Mr. Miyazaki's compositions did you reference, and how did you go about transforming them?

Oshii: Mr. Miyazaki's compositions are, at their core, the compositions of an animator.

Interviewer: I get the sense that when Mr. Miyazaki talks about composition, he's referring to the arrangement of elements on a stage, whereas when you talk about it, you're talking about something closer to, say, James Cameron's approach.

Oshii: Exactly. If I had to put it into words, mine is an optical composition, with a focus on perspective. Mr. Miyazaki's is not about perspective in the same way; it's about the balance of shapes within the frame. So there's a fundamental difference there.

Of course, Mr. Miyazaki's storyboards include camera movements and instructions like, "Background scrolling speed: 0.5mm per frame." Seeing them taught me a lot about how storyboards can serve as blueprints. "A storyboard is a blueprint." It lays the foundation for the final image. In addition to camera work, it specifies things like the dimensions of objects, the direction of light in a particular shot—it's incredibly detailed. This is one of Mr. Miyazaki's "inventions," and it's the culmination of years of experience dating back to his days at Toei Animation.

My approach is more focused on optics. It’s not about perspective in the traditional artistic sense, but rather about creating a sense of space. I wanted to bring the camera into the world of animation, to go beyond the limitations of the vanishing point. My compositions are not just about creating a physically consistent space, but also about ensuring that they work on an optical level, on a lens-based level.

In other words, it's about introducing "distortion" to achieve a certain realism. Why? Because at its core, film is memory. And compared to the composition of a painting, a lens-based composition evokes a stronger sense of "being there." After all, our experience of film is inherently tied to the lens.

The beauty of animation is that it allows you to take a perspective established on a flat plane and then re-photograph it through a lens. And because when shooting on cels, you want to avoid distortion as much as possible, you typically use a normal lens. That's why you don't see wide-angle lenses on animation camera stands. Wide-angle lenses create distortion, and their field of view is so wide that they capture not only the entire animation stand but also everything around it. So, it's difficult to incorporate that kind of distortion into animation during the shooting process.

That’s why I wanted to achieve it from the composition stage. If I may brag for a moment, I think the defining characteristic of my compositions is the introduction of the lens. Moreover, because animation is inherently a lie, you can even use different lenses within the same shot. You could never achieve that with live-action. And because it looks so much like live-action, some people complain, "Why not just shoot it in live-action then?" or "Why even bother with animation?" But they don't understand: those are shots you can't achieve with live-action! Are they blind? – That's what I think sometimes.

Interviewer: Because the average viewer doesn't notice things like focus when they watch a film.

Oshii: You can use deep focus techniques, where everything is in focus, and introduce distortion around the edges while keeping the center undistorted. Use a telephoto lens in the center and a wide-angle lens around the edges.

Interviewer: Anyone with experience in photography would understand that.

Oshii: Yes, anyone who's even touched a camera would get it immediately. I became aware of this during my time working on live-action films. I love deep focus shots, and I always try to position actors in both the foreground and background.

Interviewer: That must be tricky to achieve in live-action.

Oshii: It's not an issue in animation, but in live-action, when the cinematographer asked me, "Where do you want the focus to be?" I was taken aback. I said, "Oh, I hadn't really thought about it."

Interviewer: (laughs)

Oshii: Right? But it makes a difference. If the focus is on the background, the foreground naturally blurs, drawing the viewer's attention to the back. If you focus on the foreground, the actors in the back become part of the background, no matter who they are. So you can create different effects depending on where you place the focus. I used this technique a lot because it was so convenient. I would just have everyone stand in front of the camera.

That's why you see so many shots with Mr. Ohki (Tamiyo) and Mr. Chiba (Shigeru) in the foreground, and a whole bunch of other people clustered in the background. These are techniques you can only learn by working on a live-action set. "Live-action has focus." It seems obvious, but it was a revelation for me. People who only do animation don't understand this.

Interviewer: Is that so? (laughs)

Oshii: They also don't understand the implications of changing lenses. Even if you frame a character at the same size in a close-up, the resulting image will be completely different depending on whether you use a normal lens, a telephoto lens, or a wide-angle lens. Because of my experience with live-action, I have a wider range of options when it comes to composition, and I can do anything on paper. On top of that, I can provide detailed instructions for the camera work, the colors, the lighting… the art direction can become incredibly specific. But if you go too far, people get upset. (laughs) Actually, during the production of "Patlabor 1," the art director got angry because the animation director’s instructions were too detailed.

Interviewer: Mr. Ogura (Hiroaki) got angry? (laughs)

Interviewer: Because animation generally uses deep focus, right? Are you talking about what happened during the making of "Angel's Egg"?

Oshii: Yes. There's a famous anecdote about a background artist who went to Mr. Ogura and asked, "It says 'bright here,' 'blurry here,' 'dark here'... how am I supposed to make sense of all this?" And Mr. Ogura simply said, "Just ignore it."

(laughter)

Vertical and Horizontal Compositions

Oshii: When you're working with perspective on a flat surface, you need a triangle ruler to draw the guidelines. But once you've established the perspective grid, the real skill comes in figuring out how to shoot it. That's where the magic happens. And that's something not everyone can do.

Anyone can draw a perspective grid with a ruler. You can create a large-scale grid, project it onto a big sheet of paper, and use it to create a relatively consistent space. But in reality, it's not that simple. You have to add extra sheets of paper and use your imagination to fill in the gaps. This allows you to extract a portion of the perspective from the larger grid. But it’s not as easy as it sounds.

For "The Sky Crawlers," I had Tetsu ( Nishio Tetsuya) redrawing the drive-in restaurant and the living room scenes over and over again. The original key animator's perspective was completely off. It looked like the counter of a cheap yakitori joint. If we hadn’t fixed it, the heights of the chairs, the tables, the counter, the width of the room—it would have all looked strange.

Take the bathhouse in "Spirited Away," for example. If that were a younger Mr. Miyazaki, he wouldn’t have been so careless with the space. While I thought "Spirited Away" was a fantastic film—ten times better than "Princess Mononoke"—I couldn't shake the feeling that Mr. Miyazaki's age was catching up with him. The compositions felt rough around the edges.

It’s a vast, vertically expansive space, yet he chose to have the characters move around in an elevator. That confines all the movement to the horizontal axis. Why not utilize vertical compositions?

Interviewer: There's a scene where Chihiro climbs a flight of stairs; that's vertical movement.

Oshii: Right, but that's the only one. The scene where Chihiro runs down that ominous staircase from outside the building evokes the spirit of Mr. Miyazaki's earlier works. But why is there such a bizarre staircase in the first place? It feels like it was put there solely for the sake of that one shot. Its existence feels arbitrary. And did it really need to be so unsettling?

I imagine Mr. Miyazaki himself must have thought, "I don't want to do this," and struggled with it. But by that point, it was probably too late to change everything. I’m sure he had to incorporate some of the original animator's perspective work. As a result, the film stumbles when it comes to constructing a believable space. Don’t get me wrong; the shots of the beach in the spirit world are incredible. That's the Mr. Miyazaki I know and love. But that other world, the one that looks like the French countryside… is that really what he was going for? (laughs) You’d expect to be transported to a fantastical realm, and you end up in… that. It’s a bit of a letdown. Maybe in Mr. Miyazaki's mind, the spirit world resembles rural France, but it’s not very convincing. Especially after that breathtaking sequence on the beach. And then they cross the river Styx on a train, right? That’s a powerful image, almost on par with the night train scene in "Grave of the Fireflies." It evokes the solemnity, the weight of the afterlife. It's a far cry from "Princess Mononoke."

Interviewer: You mentioned earlier that you like to position people in the foreground in your live-action work. I noticed that "The Sky Crawlers" doesn't feature many horizontal shots with characters either.

Oshii: Right, I've never been fond of horizontal compositions.

I feel like the bathhouse in "Spirited Away" never truly came alive as a space, despite all the effort that went into creating it.

Interviewer: Really? (laughs)

Oshii: If you have two characters standing face-to-face horizontally, they will inevitably be shown in profile. Though you might turn them about 70% towards the camera, no one would be foolish enough to position characters at a full 90-degree profile. This is a fundamental principle. While incompetent directors might not notice this, animators understand it instantly. Even at a 70% profile, you lose about half the information compared to a frontal view.

Interviewer: I see.

Oshii: That's why, except in special cases, I avoid profiles. Having two characters just standing there, staring at each other in profile… it’s just lazy. If I do use it, it’s purely for symbolic purposes, because it has no expressive power. In my opinion, horizontal compositions are the worst possible choice for scenes where two characters are looking at each other, especially if it's a man and a woman. Frankly, even shooting it against the light would be more dynamic. A horizontal composition with characters standing side by side is only acceptable if it’s absolutely necessary for symbolic reasons. It might work if it's a fleeting moment in a larger, more emotional sequence, but in those crucial moments, it’s all about the composition, not the individual drawings.

A World Built from a Single Line

Oshii: In "Future Boy Conan," there’s a famous shot where Conan uses a piece of metal to shield Lana from the sun while she sleeps (Episode 8, "The Runaway"). It’s a simple composition, just a horizon line, but it’s incredibly effective. I heard from Mr. Miyazaki himself that he spent half a day working on that single shot, figuring out exactly where that line needed to be. That’s how much thought goes into these things. That one line is all it takes to convey the immensity of the desert. Conan holding up the metal sheet, Lana lying in the shade, the way the shadow stretches out… it’s perfect. And Mr. Miyazaki nailed it purely on instinct.

Interviewer: He's a true genius, capable of achieving those kinds of things instinctively.

Oshii: He is. I would have needed a ruler and a protractor to get the perspective right. First, I’d have to make sure the shadow cast on the ground aligns perfectly with the horizon line, then figure out the camera placement. Even then, I’m not sure I’d be able to achieve the same emotional impact. Sometimes you have to cheat a little. Maybe curving the horizon line upwards slightly would make it work. After all, the earth isn’t perfectly flat. The larger the scale, the more pronounced the curvature, so by bending the line inwards slightly, you emphasize the vastness of the space.

That’s something I learned from Kobayashi Shichiro (art director). He said, "If you curve it a little, the opposite side will appear rounder. That creates depth." I used that technique a lot in "Angel’s Egg," especially since we were using a lot of low-angle shots. Shichiro-san put a lot of work into those backgrounds. For example, there's a scene where tanks are approaching in the distance beyond a set of stone steps. We would never have been able to achieve that shot with conventional perspective, so we had to bend the background. And it just so happened that the stone steps were crucial to selling the effect. Without that textured, detailed foreground element, the curvature wouldn't have worked.

Interviewer: The opening shot of "Lupin III: The Castle of Cagliostro" also uses a similar technique.

Oshii: That’s another one of Mr. Miyazaki’s “inventions.” It took me countless attempts at replicating it in “Urusei Yatsura” to finally understand how he did it. If there’s anything on either side of that line, it doesn’t work. It has to be a single, unbroken line that extends from one edge of the frame to the other. And to achieve that telephoto effect, you need a sense of depth, a verticality to the space. These days, you can achieve that easily with digital tools, but back then, we were using glass. We had to rely on soft focus, filters, all sorts of tricks.

For example, if you want to depict a mirage, it's not enough to just draw it. You have to add a subtle shimmer, a slight defocus. That’s the key. The focus can’t be perfect; the lines have to be slightly misaligned. There are so many subtle details that go into it. You can’t have too much contrast in the image, for example, because you're using a telephoto lens, which compresses the air and reduces the overall saturation. And you have to be incredibly careful with the level of detail in the background, otherwise, the focus will never work… It took me a long time, a lot of trial and error to finally grasp all those nuances.

Interviewer: I see. (laughs)

Oshii: It's all about getting your hands dirty and experimenting. You can't learn this stuff from textbooks. You'll never discover those tricks unless you try it yourself.

These days, everyone’s so eager to dive headfirst into digital tools and take advantage of all the possibilities they offer that they neglect the fundamentals of composition. They think they can do anything, so they stop thinking critically. As a result, we're inundated with these bizarre, nonsensical images. There’s no design sensibility, no technical foundation to back it up.

Good composition requires a deep understanding of numerous factors, a mastery of subtle techniques. My compositions might seem simple at first glance, like something you could create with a ruler and a protractor, but the reality is far more complex. There are countless layers of craftsmanship beneath the surface, each one requiring specialized knowledge. It’s not easy.

At the end of the day, there's no substitute for rolling up your sleeves and getting to work.

————

The content is from a Japanese book 監督稼業めった斬り―勝つために戦え!(Fight to Win! The Director's Business Mercilessly Cut)

Actually, there needs to be more animation in the CC in general, René Laloux's brilliant Fantastic Planet is the only one I can think of at the moment.

I was a little surprised when saw it at the time. I thought “Tomino-san finally made a movie with real feelings!”. “Char's Counterattack” is one of Tomino-san's masterpieces. After that, F91 and other films were made, but I think this film is the most typical of Tomino-san, or rather, the film that shows his true feelings. Char's line “I will purge mankind” was Very impressive. It made me realize that Tomino-san is a man who is that desperate for humanity. He was not a person who talked about love or anything, but at that time, he was really despairing of mankind. That is why he made a movie featuring a man who tries to make the earth colder by dropping an asteroid on it. The Gundam was a bonus, well, Gundam was almost a bonus from the 1st. In other words, it's like my “Patlabor”. Ingram, the lead machine was the bonus. After this movie was released, Hideaki Anno published a coterie magazine and came to me and asked for an interview. I readily agreed, saying, “I will talk about CCA for as many hours as you want”. That's how much I like CCA. I guess you could say that I sympathized with Tomino-san's true feelings. It is a unique work in that it is neither Gundam nor Amuro, but the story of Char, and it expresses Tomino-san's true feelings. I don't know what the Gundam youth of the time thought about it, but it was this aspect that got Anno interested in CCA, and he even created a coterie magazine. I think that was the only time I cooperated with Anno.

In Sunrise, I likes Ryosuke Takahashi more than Gundam series. I was fascinated by “Armored Trooper Votoms”. His love for robots is stronger than Tomino-san's, and he brings a military feel to his work on a different level than Tomino-san. Ryosuke himself is a military geek, and Sunrise itself is a company with many military geeks. Tomino-san usually suppresses his love of history and even his military geek side. He even suppresses the pleasure principle of animation. According to the studio's animators, when they draw pictures with flashy movements, they are told by Tomino-san, “Fix it, make it move normally”. He is also particular about the depiction of weightless space and gravity. He is a director who sticks to the basics, and Gundam is an animation without showiness. However, CCA is full of showiness in both scene creation and situations. In the climax scene, when the Axis asteroid crashes into the earth, Amuro's machine and other mass-produced machines fully open their verniers, and everyone supports them and tries to push them back. Some may say it lacks reality, but the climactic scene is a masterpiece. The usually rational Tomino-san took off his stopper in that scene. He makes Amuro say, “There are even machines equipped with explosives, so stop it” and then explodes the machines around him. Not only the situations, but the dialogue is showiness. If any other director had used the line “I will purge the human race,” I would have said, “Who do you think you are?”, But when Tomino-san uses it, it is very natural. It is a line that can only be allowed by Tomino-san, who has been involved in robot animation for a long time, and it is very persuasive. The characters in Tomino-san's works talk endlessly. They argue all the time while fighting. The characters have much more lines than in my work (laughs). It is often said that “Oshii's works have many lines.” So why does no one complain about Tomino-san?

I have nothing against, in fact, I like him. Actually, Miya-san (director Hayao Miyazaki) also likes Tomino-san. Miya-san often called and talked to Tomino-san. Miya-san and Tomino-san are actually good friends. Isn't this interesting? Miya-san didn't like Mushi Production, but he really liked Tomino-san, who was from Mushi Production. That's probably because he knew that Tomino-san was having a hard time at Mushi Productions. However, when the directors meet, they don't get along. I really like Tomino-san as a director, but I'm not sure if I want to meet him in person (laughs). We've met before, and we've even had a fight. When my sister (Kazuko Mogami) did a dance performance at the Robot Expo in Ueno in 2007, Tomino-san was there to see it. At that time, there was a bit of a struggle and a fight broke out. It was like a shouting match. That's why I thought I'd never see you again. After a while, Tomino-san came up from behind and hugged me, saying, “Oshii-chan, I'm sorry for what happened earlier” with a cat petting voice (laughs). I had no choice but to say, “I understand now. You don't have to hug me.” and we made up.

Tomino-san is a twisted. I think he is a truly twisted person. He often says things like, “I am someone who never became a proper creator” or “After all, I'm just making promotional videos for a toy store”. In the past, the anime industry was a group of depressed people getting together and licking their wounds. It was a time when that way of thinking was widespread, and Tomino-san is someone who still maintains that way of thinking. It was the same when I first entered the anime industry, but I couldn't stand the self-deprecating atmosphere. I thought, "Why do we have to have such a complex?" And I still think about it. I thought it would be good to have more confidence in our profession. Tomino-san has continued to create anime while hiding his true feelings. It was at CCA that his true feelings suddenly exploded. Although Tomino-san was self-deprecating, he brilliantly expressed his world in this work. There is no need to feel inferior because it is an animated film or low-budget film. You don't have to say, “I make films on the fringes of the industry”. If possible, I think it's the right thing for him to do as a film and as a filmmaker to take the high road and realize his own expression. I like that kind of anime, and CCA is one such movie.

It's a wonderful movie that was made only by Tomino-san, and it's definitely one of the milestones of Japanese robot anime. Even if you're not interested in Gundam or robot anime, You can watch it as both a drama and a movie. Although this movie is more than 30 years old, I think it has tremendous appeal even to people today. I am sure there are many people who think that the “world may disappear”, or that the “world should disappear”. Tomino-san did not create this work solely out of malice and despair. The line “Purge humanity” was uttered by Tomino-san in hopes of a better future. It's not like he suddenly loses his temper and starts brandishing a knife. That's why this movie may be a savior for people who feel a sense of stagnation and despair in modern society. At the same time, it is also a cathartic film. This is a recommended movie in many ways.

Forｍ " Mamoru Oshii's 50 years 50 movies "

For those that are unaware, during the pink jacket run, TMS originally approached Hayao Miyazaki to direct what would be at the time the 3rd Lupin movie. Miyazaki was however done with the series and he recommended Mamoru Oshii, who accepted to direct the film.

Oshii's film would apparently feauture an older and depressed Lupin who had lost purpose in life after not having anything left to steal. The gang would all be featured but Fujiko would only meet the rest at the end of the movie. The plot would feature a crazy architect who builds a sort of Tower of Babel in the heart of Tokyo and then commits suicide by jumping off the top, a girl that's stuck in said tower, an angel fossil which was meant to symbolise fiction and it would end with Lupin realising that he is a fictional character (therefore technically stealing reality and his own existence by stealing the angel fossil) and Tokyo being destroyed in a nuclear explosion (!?).

Needless to say the idea was considered too avant garde and it was scrapped with The Legend of the Gold of Babylon taking it's place.

Would you rather this instead of Gold of Babylon? Personally I would have liked to see this movie as it sounds batshit insane, but at the same time I'm not sure if it's influence on the franchise would have been very positive.