Does Gunbuster Hold Up Today?

Studio Gainax's Gunbuster is the anime directorial debut of one of the industry's most influential pioneers, Hideaki Anno, and it is considered a must-watch classic by hardcore mecha fans. It's easy to see why some might recommend shows strictly based on their historical value, especially when the show in question is only six episodes long. However, does the show stand on its own outside of its historical status? In a world where much of what this series pioneered has become the norm, why should you still watch Gunbuster?

That is a tricky question to answer right out the gate, considering that the show's pedigree could inadvertently end up making some of its key moments and story beats feel more influential than they really are. In today's seasonal anime climate, certain tropes in Gunbuster are so familiar that fans might get sick at the sight of them, even when they are done well. On the other hand, if you enjoy those tropes, then Gunbuster's status as one of the early pioneers may cause you to place the show in higher estimation than it might have deserved – think of it as a sort of reverse nostalgia where you might grow fond of an old show because it reminds you of what would come after it. There's nothing wrong with either of these perspectives. Still, it's important to distinguish its legacy by not just considering the genre-defining elements that other creators would emulate but also seeing what these creators, in particular, did to set up those moments. I would argue that there's a lot more here.

Gunbuster tells the story of Noriko Takaya, a high school girl who lives in a world where giant robots and interstellar travel exist. She's training to join the Earth's Space Fleet to get close to her father, an admiral who went missing in space with his troops during one of humanity's first battles with a race of powerful space monsters. Noriko, at first, comes off as not exceptionally skilled and has internal and external reasons to doubt herself constantly. She does end up rising to the occasion and becomes a top candidate to pilot humanity's most potent weapon to win this space war, the Gunbuster. However, she soon realizes that her position carries much more weight than she could've ever possibly imagined.

Despite being only six episodes, one of the things that Gunbuster excels at is its world-building. It dedicates a significant amount of time to this front with great success. Much thought and care went into the explanations regarding light-speed travel, how humanity has adapted to potential incoming threats, and even the amount of dexterity needed to pilot individual robots. Even when some of the theories brought up are a bit dated by today's science fiction standards, the show's commitment to giving the world a sense of scale while still shaping it with concrete rules and theories shouldn't go underappreciated. It helps that this attention to detail also extends to the presentation of the show itself.

Gunbuster looks absolutely gorgeous, with every single frame brimming with life. There was barely any reused animation, and many of its scenes possess a fluidity that most currently airing anime arguably lacks. Lighting and particle effects are well-placed to create fantastic backdrops, both for visual splendor and for conveying proper moods. While the designs of the more standard soldier robots that the cast pilots can be a little boring, the titular Gunbuster carries every ounce of presence that it should, and the way everything moves feels very distinct. A lot of attention goes into animating each individual movement of the machines, showing the thought and input needed to go into each one of those actions. These things feel heavy with just the right amount of slowness and wind up. And that same love and care in the animation are also apparent in areas that don't necessarily need them—yes, even the bounciness of the women's breasts.

Another remarkable aspect of the show's world-building comes down to the narrative ways it is used outside of just providing a sense of grounding and conveying to the audience the scale of the threat that needs to be overcome. One key, recurring idea that pops up throughout the series is how lightspeed travel affects a person's perspective of time. Time dilation means traveling in space for six months could be 15 years on Earth. While our main character doesn't age that much throughout the show, the world and all of the people she has known live on past her, and attention is given to how emotionally difficult this can be at times. Even when our heroes succeed, there's always this heavy sense of loss because while they are fighting to protect the people on Earth, the trade-off seems to be that they are not allowed to be a significant part of those people's lives anymore. This works inversely as well, as our main characters are forced to confront grueling hardships in a short amount of time. Milestones that could take months for those on Earth to process are speeding by in the span of hours, and there's no more time to waste.

This sense of loss defines the main thematic thrust of the entire show, and nowhere is that more prevalent than in our main character Noriko. She originally gets introduced as this spunky, airheaded upstart, and while she retains some of those traits as the show goes on, the experiences that she goes through end up showing that she is much more capable than she initially thought she was, both as a pilot and as a character. What starts as a story about believing in yourself and putting in the hard work to make the most of your abilities quickly shifts into a story about dealing with unresolved issues and trauma. She's far from infallible, and she makes mistakes that have significant consequences, but the show takes the time to have the character bear the weight of them and portray how they affect her relationship with others. Plus, she has to deal with all of this on top of the unresolved trauma she was already carrying before going into space.

Noriko is, without a doubt, the most fleshed-out character in the entire show, and seeing her find the courage to stand up in the face of such daunting circumstances is what allows a lot of Gunbuster's best moments to hit so hard. These great triumphant moments that would be emulated for years aren't good because they stick out to you; they're good because of the emotional labor that made those moments feel earned. When the Gunbuster stands tall with Kōhei Tanaka's powerful and sweeping score filling your ears, you feel this sense of accomplishment. Noriko is the emotional thread that ties everything together, and Gunbuster would not hold up as strongly if her struggles weren't so believably portrayed.

However, just because it's enriching and heartwarming, that doesn't mean that the show's writing doesn't buckle at times under the weight of its own ambition and episode count. As early as the first episode, some plot elements need to be handwaved away just to put Noriko where she needs to be given the time constraints. This also, unfortunately, extends to a lot of the other characters who have just enough there for them to be defined in some way but aren't nearly as fleshed out as the show might sometimes pretend that they are. This is fine in most cases since Gunbuster is primarily Noriko's story. Still, it would have been better for the audience to get more of an idea of where certain characters were coming from so that we could also appreciate their successes and losses similarly. Again, I might be asking for a lot from a show with only six episodes, but that is a testament to how good of a character piece Gunbuster is.

Just because something's iconic doesn't necessarily mean that it's good. Some shows and movies haven't aged gracefully due to how they compare to other advancements in technology and storytelling. Gunbuster is definitely old and has flaws, but it still manages to be both a technically and emotionally enriching experience. If you're an older or diehard classic anime fan, this should go without saying, but for everyone else, I can assure you that watching Gunbuster isn't like doing history homework. It's more like going on an adventure at lightspeed, where time was experienced differently, and much like Noriko, when you return from that journey, you might learn something about yourself that you hadn't known before.