The Abandoned Ghibli Project That Could Have Changed Anime

Long before Studio Ghibli became a byword for enchantment and nostalgia, a remarkable project was quietly shelved—one that might have altered the course of Japanese animation. Hayao Miyazaki, celebrated for his imaginative storytelling, withdrew from a film not due to financial or scheduling woes, but because of a fundamental clash of creative principles. This little-known episode reveals more about his artistic convictions than any completed work.

The Unmade Collaboration: Anchor’s Brief Existence

The mid-1980s marked a period of extraordinary innovation in Japanese animation. Miyazaki had just released Nausicaä of the Valley of the Wind, a film that proved animation could address weighty themes such as environmental disaster and conflict without losing its emotional core. Isao Takahata was refining his distinctive, almost documentary-like approach to storytelling, while Mamoru Oshii had recently delivered Angel’s Egg, a film so enigmatic and symbolic that it continues to intrigue and baffle audiences.

Amidst this creative ferment, a new project—tentatively titled Anchor—was conceived. In 1985, Oshii was invited to direct, with Miyazaki and Takahata set to produce. For a fleeting moment, the prospect of these three visionaries joining forces seemed poised to redefine the medium. Yet, as Oshii later recalled, the collaboration was doomed from the outset:

Since Takahata-san works at the same place as Miya-san, I often meet him, and we talk from time to time. There was even a project which we three were going to do. I think it was after Angel’s Egg (1985), it was a Ghibli project called Anchor. I think Miya-san was going to be the producer, I was going to be the director, and Takahata-san was going to produce too. We three got together and made a plot, but one night, we had a big fight and disagreement, and I quit.

Creative Differences: Why Anchor Never Set Sail

Anchor never progressed beyond a handful of discussions. There were no sketches, no scripts, not even a synopsis. The trio quickly discovered that their artistic philosophies were irreconcilable. Oshii, fresh from Angel’s Egg, favoured ambiguity, silence, and symbolism. Miyazaki, in contrast, believed animation should be lively, emotionally resonant, and accessible. Takahata, meanwhile, was committed to realism and subtle observation of human behaviour.

According to Oshii, a single heated exchange was enough to end the project. There were no attempts at compromise or revision. Anchor was abandoned almost as soon as it was conceived, becoming a tantalising “what if” in the annals of animation.

Miyazaki’s Principles and the Path Not Taken

The demise of Anchor can be traced to Miyazaki’s unwavering commitment to his own creative ideals. He has always maintained that animation must be honest and emotionally direct, even when dealing with challenging subject matter. His works are characterised by movement, warmth, and a sense of hope, even in the face of adversity.

Oshii, on the other hand, deliberately seeks to unsettle viewers, favouring open-ended questions and imagery that invites interpretation rather than clarity. In a wry observation, Oshii once likened Studio Ghibli to a political system, with Miyazaki as the revolutionary and Takahata as the administrator—a dynamic that left little room for Oshii’s more experimental tendencies.

Had Anchor come to fruition, Studio Ghibli might have launched with a sombre, atmospheric, and deeply philosophical film, rather than the adventurous optimism of Castle in the Sky. The studio’s reputation—and perhaps the entire landscape of Japanese animation—could have taken a very different turn.

Legacy of a Lost Project

Instead, Miyazaki chose to prioritise clarity and emotional connection over abstraction and experimentation. Oshii went on to pioneer cyberpunk themes, while Takahata continued to explore realism in animation. Miyazaki, for his part, crafted fantastical worlds that have left a lasting impression on generations of viewers.

Anchor remains a ghostly reminder of a path not taken—a testament to the power of creative conviction, and a story that, by never being told, has become legendary in its own right.