Among the series that helped cultivated this young fanbase, Gundam Wing was one of the biggest to make its debut, becoming a tent-pole entry that not only served as a gateway title to the Gundam franchise but perhaps, more importantly, a show that became many viewers first exposure with anime altogether. Because of its status as many people's initial experience with the medium, or at the very least, their first conscious discernment between Japanese and Western animated works, a great deal of nostalgic value has been associated with it. A predicament that would inadvertently lead to a lot of blind appraisal under false pretenses, whether the parties in question were aware of it or not.
Its influence in the western climate is undeniable but that doesn't negate it from the same baseline criticisms applicable to any other show. And in that regard, Gundam Wing is far from a timestamp of fidelity and quality-control. While its production values have certainly stood the test of time — with sharp edits, gorgeous matte paintings, ear-worm industrial synthpop mixings and fluid animation that could go toe to toe with many titles being produced today — the screenplay, on the other hand, wasn't so lucky, falling victim to the common narrative conceits of its time period.
Overwrought with needless plotting manipulation, contrived idealistic monologues delivered by cardboard cutout personalities, and a narrative that quickly spirals into a chop suey of hackneyed writing; Wing was Gundam's messy attempt at a rule-of-cool political shounen. An attempt that got all the attributes correct on the surface, but when brought under an analytical microscope, barely kept its head above water. Where past installments found an equilibrium between teen angst and the war drama that facilitated it, Wing ended up fumbling this formula with wrongheaded attempts intended to capture a younger demographic, while seemingly forgetting the fact that it already had that demographic in their back pocket, to begin with. It's the kind of creative misfiring only possible by the hogwash of self-obsessed auteurs being allowed to run amok. It certainly succeeded in creating easily digestible entertainment but sadly at cost of proper storytelling. Today, we'll shelf whatever nostalgic value the show has with the community, as we attempt to examine it for what it is and not what landmark value it may have held.
The story starts out like any other in the franchise, with a conflict brewing between two separate factions: one found on earth (United Earth Sphere Alliance) and the space colonies that occupy the heavens. And in the wonderful Gundam tradition of dressing up opposing factions in broad strokes of fascism, The Alliance in this iteration represents our big baddies, extending their oppressive control over the space colonies with such aggression that even Benito Mussolini would blush. It's the kind of setup that alludes to a grandiose battle to determine supremacy, and we do certainly get to see something like that play out, but the plotting used to get to that power struggle, was, for the lack of a better word, laughable.
The Gundam franchise has always used teen pilots in their series as conduits to channel their themes of warfare and human ethics. And while what I'm about to say may seem like a trivial detail, it's the core difference that separates successful installments in the franchise that still manage to feel plausible, from those of the likes of Wing which could only muster up all of its creative juices to obtain juvenile status at best.
This core difference I speak of is the allocation of character relevance.
In 79 and Zeta Gundam respectfully, Amuro and Kamille were both talented pilots due to their upbringing and new-type abilities, but there was never a point in time where their involvement led to the tipping point that determined the outcome of any given large-scale battle. They were more adept than the average soldier but was ultimately just another person operating under the guidance of a small rag-tagged group, which was itself just a small cog in the machine, manipulated by the governing parties as they saw fit. Regardless of their individual talents as pilots, they didn't win wars single-handedly; there was always a group effort, involving the sacrifices of many people on both sides. Even Char Aznable, considered the best pilot in both series, had to rely on the strength of others around him to achieve victory in any given battle.
The point I'm trying to make here is that no one was ever an end-all-be-all trump card for winning the war. The teen pilots may have been incredibly strong relative to those around them but that's all they were: strong. Nothing more, nothing less. But this is where Wing differs significantly, and not for the better.
Unlike before, the teens weren't just strong this time around, now, they've practically been turned into God-sent messiahs... EDGY God-sent messiahs at that (sigh).
What once took the collective effort of battalions fighting against each other to cause a dent in the war, was now reduced to the actions of a handful of angsty teens with a mech suit, pent-up rage, and an endless line of fodder to mow down — cool poses and manchild yelling notwithstanding. And yeah, I know what you're thinking "But ZephSilver-sama, what's the problem with that?" Well, my young Padawan, have patience, I'll explain further once we address another pressing issue with Wing. That being its treatment of war factions and politics.
A Coup d'etat; common occurrences during wartime, and one that the Gundam franchise readily utilizes to spice up its content, and understandably so. Whenever any governing party finds itself at odds with the militaristic stronghold that keeps it in power, it's basically a powder keg waiting to blow. For Gundam, that translates into a cool ass firework display of mecha action, pink explosions, and blood confetti just waiting to happen. And Like any good thing, moderation is key. And as you've probably guessed by now, this is an understanding that escapes Wing. Coup d'etats are expected events but the amount of times that it ended up occurring in Wing is just unrealistic, to the point of approaching parody.
The mere act of existing as a governing entity in Wing basically assures you a one-way ticket to shitsville. There is zero stability in this universe. A constant potpourri of back-stabbing and upheaval. This fickle game of musical chairs between alliances became so bad at times that any given character could find themselves supporting no less than 4 separate groups in the course of the show's 49-episode run. Wing, despite its simplistic narrative, was constantly asking its audience to keep tabs on several moving parts simultaneously. A type of sensory overdrive where tertiary factions were constantly sticking their necks out to remind the viewer that "they still exist!"
The constant betrayals meant that there was no true side for the audience to follow or individual motivation worth investing into, turning the human race into a marginalized group of trigger-happy neanderthals. With no solid conviction for the numerous groups that sprung up and a mess of Heel-Face Turn characters that easily switched sides at the whim of whatever the screenplay belched out at any given episode, what was left in the end were our teen pilots (a.k.a Emo Power Rangers), as they rode in on their high horses providing the answer to everything. And by "provide answers" I mean they blew shit up while reciting their edge-lord diatribes.
Using youths as the poster children for justice is one thing, but making them the sole proprietor to end the human race's problems is a complete other... and no, I'm not being hyperbolic either. Our five teen edge-lords: Heero Yuy, Duo Maxwell, Trowa Barton, Quatre Raberba Winner and Chang Wufei, were tasked with taking on The Alliance's military stronghold, without the help of any backing nation or military group. Yes, you read that correctly. 5 teenage emo rangers are quite literally tasked with defeating a united earth front all by themselves... but perhaps even worse than that is that the show writes it to where such a ludicrous task is actually made feasible by turning the mobile suits into indestructible doomsday machines.
Because the characters were all one-note, personality-wise, they were often re-written to service whatever role the plot demanded at the time. This turned megalomaniacs into spokespeople for peace and vice versa. Something that was made all the more bothersome with constant bombardments of contrived, idealistic monologues. A notable example being Zechs Marquise, the show's watered down version of Char Aznable, where he made a 180 in mindset while still delivering his idealistic speeches that conflicted with his actions. There were times where he was quite literally trying to murder someone in cold blood while delivering messages akin to "peace and unity bro!" But it wasn't limited to him alone, as most of the characters cashed in on these long-winded, ass-backward speeches that were contradictory to their immediate actions on-screen. This failed attempt at adding depth to the cast did nothing but further expose their lack of dimension and characterization. And depending on your investment, this could make the experience enjoyable in an unintentional "haha, they can't be serious right now?" parody way, or just plain stupid in a "what were the scriptwriters smoking?" way. Thankfully, my approach was the former.
When taken by themselves, any one of these specific issues mentioned doesn't become a huge detriment to the story, but when they're compounded into a snowball effect of bad ideas meet even worse screenwriting decisions, that's where the true issue arises. What could have been a simple rule-of-cool political shounen, was now transformed into a molotov cocktail of messy outcomes, the likes of which was too far gone to be salvaged by a script revision.
Where all of this extra time went unaccounted for when addressing Wing's writing seemed to have turned up in the show's visual and auditory output. And boy did it pay off! Despite all the verbal carpet bombing I've directed towards Wing so far, even I can't find anything worth scrutinizing in these departments. Wing's production values are better than a vast majority of anime entries released in the 90s — hell, I'll even take it a step further and state that in its restoration form, it could outpace many entries in the early 2010s as well. Needless to say, this was also some of the highest production values seen from the Gundam franchise as well; not since Zeta in 85 has their been such a noticeable increase in audiovisual output.
With a staggering amount of saturated color gradients, physical encounters that had a tangible weight behind it, and an undeniable fervor for blood-boiling theatrics, Wing definitely delivered on visual spectacle. When you put aside the nonsensical propulsion that led to any given action scene and just soaked it in for what was shown on-screen, this was quite the crowd pleaser. Also, before we continue on, the J-Pop opening "Just Communication" by TWO-MIX is a national treasure that should be protected at all cost! And no mention of Wing's audiovisual output would be complete without making special mention of the aesthetically appealing design work.
When it comes to creating vogue-looking, rugged character models, very few can topple Shukou Murase. Though, at the time, that was yet to be seen. Being an up-and-coming creative, Murase secured his position as character designer based on his work on 89's Ronin Warriors Gaiden. A decision that he would prove wasn't a fluke with an extensive catalog catapulted by his newfound recognition on Wing, where he would go on to further lend his talents to titles such as Argento Soma and Gasaraki.
And last, but certainly not least, the mechanical designers themselves. While there were several names attached to the project, all of which deserving of a comb-over, I'll only focus on one; mah boi Hajime Katoki. When it comes to beefing up mecha designs to look like "Do you even LIFT bro?" steroid-memes (in a good way, of course), Katoki is your go-to guy. He has the magical ability to do with mecha what Jojo's Bizarre Adventure does to the masculine form, all the while making the final product appear plausible for the universe it's a part of. Which brings me to perhaps one of, if not, my favorite mecha design in the entire Gundam canon, Zechs Marquise's Tallgeese. This glorious, Roman gladiator inspired hunk of metal was just a demanding screen presence. It's a fan favorite for good reason and I'm inclined to support the appraisal that it has racked up throughout the years.
And yes, there were noticeable shortcuts taken at times, with a few still-image panning shots here and speed-lines there, but those sporadic moments of cost-saving techniques never detracted from the overall care given to bringing the entire vision to life. As a whole, the audiovisual output is where Wing truly shines.
After taking everything into consideration, both the good and the incredibad, I can't say I wasted my time with Wing. Sure, like everything else, it had its problems, but what in the Gundam franchise doesn't? Yeah, there were times where the issues mentioned impeded on my enjoyment and certainly other occasions where my invested interest was tested. But upon passing the finish line, looking back from where I started to where I eventually stood, at the very least, the journey through Wing offered up aspects worth cherishing. Even if they were aspects knee-deep in issues I'd rather forget.
Although Gundam Wing's historical relevance may have engulfed its actual inherent value, it's still a title I would recommend to others. It's not really one of those shows where you could divorce its issues through selective viewing, as is the benefit for something Like Zeta or 79 Gundam; where under the context of warfare and the understanding that the new-types are essentially hypersensitive, autistic x-men in space, excusing their irrational blurps of emotional responses to others become acceptable. With Wing, the issues found are far too deep-rooted, corrupting the very foundation of its script that everything grows out from. You can cut the proverbial limb off of Zeta or 79 Gundam and still be left with something functional, but attempting such an act on Wing is no different than taking to its head with a swift guillotine strike.
With all that being said, approach Wing with reasonable expectations. If you walk in understanding that it's Emo Power Rangers vs The World, with the added benefit of having high production values, then you can walk out unscathed, taking with you a fun viewing experience and another legacy title under your belt.
