ON GAINAX, DAICON IV, AND PASSION

TONY T. - Managing Editor, 3rd Year, Economics and Data Science

"I'm just not going to mention The Chocolate Panic Picture Show."

I think that as a fan of anime (as well as some other otaku-related media), I generally fetishize passion. In a sense, that very concept is at the root of this medium and various others associated with it. Given the prevalence of, say, original video animations in the 1980s and 90s, which essentially marketed themselves off of reputation and willingness to express unique ideas not often present in more mainstream television anime of the time, I think that anime has in some regard always celebrated expression of the unique.

For that matter, no studio better represents this perspective more than Studio Gainax. As a studio with no roots in the industry’s beginnings, it stands out even by being the first studio created by a second generation of anime creatives who derived inspiration not from outside sources, but from anime itself. Today, this has led to an incestuous industry which constantly outputs ‘subversive’ material that in reality fits with the establishment and has mass appeal. Indeed, I can’t really say many good things about the consequences of Studio Gainax’s passion, as I believe it eventually introduced factors which fundamentally doomed Japanese animation. In the 1980s and 1990s, however, this was still relatively refreshing given how the industry had only really been kickstarted in any real way in the late 1960s. One could call Gainax’s success as being purely due to first mover advantage, but when their output is looked at closely, you couldn’t get further from reality. Having created classics like Gunbuster, Nadia, and, of course, Neon Genesis Evangelion, the Gainax of the 20th century is arguably one of the only studios which produced a dense amount of high quality animation without much fluff. For that matter, I also enjoy less popular (at least in comparison) anime like Otaku no Video, Honoo no Tenkousei, and Kareshi Kanojo no Jijou

While the studio released some interesting series after the turn of the millennium, like Mahoromatic, Diebuster, and, yeah, Tengen Toppa Gurren Lagann, it was diluted far more with forgettable releases. For every Gurren Lagann, there was a Kore ga Watashi no Goshujin-sama. With every Diebuster came a Kono Minikuku mo Utsukushii Sekai. By mixing in releases that did not aspire to the same standard, Gainax’s “glory days” became more and more a thing of the past, particularly when large groups of their staff left to start other organizations like Studios Gonzo, Khara, and Trigger. Ultimately, Gainax today is a relic of the past, something that only exists as a name. Still, all their releases in the 1980s and 1990s exude ubiquitous, pervasive feelings of devotion that are palpable. I may criticize the eventual effect that Gainax had on the industry, but their enthusiasm for anime production is captivating and enjoyable in of itself. While Evangelion may be their most famous, not to mention my personal favorite work of theirs, I think no series better represents the “otaku” sense of passion, which as a whole defined the studio, quite like the Daicon IV Opening Animation.

The Daicon animations are, essentially, fan made animations made by the Gainax crew prior to the formation of the studio proper. They were meant to be shown at the twentieth and twenty secondth Nihon SF Taikai, which were dubbed “Daicon III” and “Daicon IV” due to being the third and fourth times the convention was to be located in Osaka. Definitely not meeting any proper copyright laws, the Daicon IV animation, set to ELO’s “Prologue” and “Twilight” from their Time album, is essentially a six minute film featuring a bunny girl flying around and fighting various characters and creatures. Series represented include Star Wars, Space Battleship Yamato, Super Dimension Fortress Macross, Lord of the Rings, and so, so, many more.

There really isn’t any plot to speak of. Yet, what is so moving about the animation is the sheer amount of passion that went into it. Not only is the animation stunning and butter-smooth, but the way it captures the sensibilities and interests of the 1980s science fiction otaku is breathtaking. Certain cuts of animation are also unique. Particularly, some scenes at the end bear a striking resemblance to Gainax’s End of Evangelion, which was released around fifteen years later. In a sense, Daicon IV is an anime that could only have been made in its particular time and place by its specific creators. The short anime Otaku no Video serves as a fictionalized account of Daicon IV’s creation, though it itself exists as a metanarrative on dedicated geeks. Within it, the characters detail aspects of just how difficult it truly was to create certain animation bits and cuts. Coupled with this context, then, Daicon IV is in a sense the pinnacle of anime in how it demonstrates the root core of the fan devotion that leads to self perpetuating creative output. Studio Gainax created works I consider better in the following two decades, but ultimately, Daicon IV is the purest distillation of their efforts as anime fans-turned-creators. Funnily enough, it captures a sort of ‘devil may care’ attitude which defined the 1980s, in both culture and finance. Just as America and Japan encountered economic issues as a result of that trend, anime as a culture experienced setbacks due to certain ideas brought to prominence by Gainax. Still, the period before eventual ruin (for America’s economy it was 2007, in Japan it was 1991) is something that I find enjoyable to fondly look back upon even if I was not a part of it. Hence, I find Daicon IV to be a unique time capsule not just of Studio Gainax’s dedication, but to a more simple time for the anime industry. It’s hard to find good quality versions online, especially given the tenuous legality of featuring numerous intellectual properties without permission, but it truly is worth watching and viewing the birth of, quite likely, the most influential anime studio ever. Gainax may be dead, but Daicon IV forever stands as a testament to their staff’s passion.