The Abandoned Ghibli Project That Could Have Changed Anime

Long before Studio Ghibli was a staple for Aussie film buffs, Hayao Miyazaki quietly ditched a project that, if finished, might have rewritten the story of Japanese animation. This wasn’t about cash dramas or tight deadlines—Miyazaki’s decision came down to creative differences, pure and simple. The project, known as Anchor, is now a bit of a ghost story in anime circles, with barely a trace left behind. What makes it so fascinating is not what was made, but what never got off the ground.

The Unseen Collaboration: Anchor’s Brief Spark

The mid-80s were a wild time for animation in Japan. Miyazaki had just wrapped up Nausicaä of the Valley of the Wind, showing everyone that animation could tackle big topics like war and the environment without losing its heart. Isao Takahata was busy perfecting his down-to-earth, almost documentary style, while Mamoru Oshii had just released Angel’s Egg—a film so cryptic it still has punters scratching their heads.

Amidst all this, Anchor was born—or nearly was. In 1985, Oshii was invited to direct a new animated feature, with Miyazaki and Takahata both on board as producers. For a brief moment, it looked like three of the biggest names in the business would join forces. But as Oshii later recalled, things didn’t go to plan:

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.

That was the end of it. No sketches, no scripts, nothing left behind. Just a meeting, a clash of ideas, and a project that vanished before it began.

Creative Clashes: Why Anchor Was Doomed

Oshii came in with the same energy as Angel’s Egg—heavy on silence, symbolism, and open-ended questions. Miyazaki, on the other hand, was all about movement, warmth, and making sure the audience felt something real. Takahata was off in his own direction, keen on realism and subtlety. It was a recipe for fireworks, and not the good kind.

According to Oshii, it only took one heated conversation to sink the whole thing. There were no second chances, no rewrites, no “let’s give it another go.” Anchor was dead in the water before it even set sail. The project became a legend, not for what it was, but for what it could have been.

Miyazaki’s Stubborn Vision and Ghibli’s Path

Anchor’s fate was sealed by Miyazaki’s refusal to budge on his creative principles. He’s always insisted that animation should be honest and easy for viewers to connect with, even when the subject matter is tough. His films draw you in with their energy and hope, even when they’re dealing with war or disaster.

Oshii, meanwhile, prefers to leave things open, making audiences work for meaning. In the same chat, he joked that Studio Ghibli was like a political system, with Miyazaki as the revolutionary and Takahata as the strict boss. The joke had a sting—Ghibli’s tight control left no room for Oshii’s more experimental style.

If Anchor had gone ahead, Ghibli might have launched with something much darker and more philosophical than the adventurous spirit of Castle in the Sky. The whole vibe of Japanese animation—and Ghibli’s global reputation—could have been completely different.

Different Roads: What Came After

Instead, Miyazaki stuck to his guns, choosing clarity and emotion over abstraction. Oshii moved on to shake up the anime world with cyberpunk stories, while Takahata kept exploring realism. Miyazaki went on to create magical worlds that left a mark on generations of fans.

Anchor remains the ultimate “what if” for animation fans—a reminder that sometimes, the most interesting stories are the ones that never get told, thanks to a room full of uncompromising creative minds.