It’s hard to believe, but it’s true: Hideaki Anno’s groundbreaking anime Neon Genesis Evangelion is now celebrating its 30th anniversary. For three decades—ever since its debut on Japanese TV in 1995—audiences have been captivated by Evangelion’s singular mix of mecha action, psychological introspection, and still-unresolved questions about what it all truly means. But perhaps the biggest mystery of all is how it happened in the first place. What allowed Evangelion to emerge in the mid-1990s—and could something like it ever happen again?

As fans reflect on 30 years of Evangelion, old interviews suddenly carry new weight. One standout is a 1996 conversation with series creator and director Hideaki Anno, conducted at Anime Expo in Los Angeles. It includes some of the most candid and insightful comments Anno has ever made about the show. Evangelion began as an attempt to shake up the stagnant world of robot anime in Japan, though its impact reached far beyond the mecha genre. Or, as Anno bluntly put it: “The people who make anime and the people who watch it always want the same things. The creators have been making the same story for about 10 years; the viewers seem to be satisfied, and there’s no sense of urgency. There’s no future in that.”

Anno’s Early Influences: Growing Up With Gundam and Yamato

From Macross Animator to Disruptive Force

A lifelong fan of anime and manga, Anno was part of the first generation in Japan to grow up immersed in modern anime culture. He was especially captivated by the science fiction world-building and mechanical detail in series like Space Battleship Yamato (1974) and Mobile Suit Gundam (1979), shows that inspired him to pursue a professional career in the anime industry.

Hideaki Anno made his professional debut as an animator on the landmark series Super Dimensional Fortress Macross—best known in the West as part of the Robotech saga. Behind the scenes, the Macross production team was a mix of seasoned anime veterans—some with experience on Yamato—and younger, ionate newcomers like Anno. Originally conceived as a mecha series designed to sell toys, Macross pushed anime to new heights with its memorable characters, soap-opera drama that appealed to both male and female viewers, and intense space battles. It seemed poised to spark a new renaissance for TV anime—but that didn’t exactly happen, at least not right away.

A Slower Industry, Playing It Safe

The Birth of Gainax and Anno’s Directorial Rise

Back in the 1980s, only about 30 to 50 new anime series debuted on Japanese TV each year. Compare that to today, when that same number can premiere in a single season. With fewer slots available, networks and studios tended to play it safe, sticking to proven formulas—like mecha anime made to sell toys, adaptations of hit manga, or sequels to franchises like Gundam. While some standout series like Dragon Ball and Saint Seiya emerged during this time, real creative innovation was happening in theatrical anime films and OVAs, not so much on TV.

After working on Macross and serving as a key animator on Hayao Miyazaki’s Nausicaä of the Valley of the Wind (1984), Anno co-founded Studio Gainax with fellow otaku-turned-professionals like Yoshiyuki Sadamoto and Hiroyuki Yamaga. Gainax’s first anime feature, The Wings of Honnêamise (1987), directed by Yamaga, wasn’t a commercial success at first but gradually earned cult classic status. Anno would soon step into the director’s chair for Gainax’s next major project.

Released as a three-volume OVA series between 1987 and 1988, Gunbuster (also known as Aim for the Top!) starts as a lighthearted and clichéd comedy set at a training school for young female mecha pilots. But as the story progresses, it builds in dramatic scale and intensity. By the final episode, viewers are deeply invested in the characters—and the emotional payoff still hits just as hard today.

Gunbuster: The Prototype for Evangelion

Anno’s Confession: “I’m a Fool”

In many ways, Gunbuster helped set the stage for Evangelion. While Gunbuster begins like a sports anime—with fierce rivalries and a stern coach—Evangelion starts with a familiar trope: a reluctant boy forced to pilot his father’s mecha, a setup seen in Mazinger Z (1972) and Gundam (1979). Both series begin in familiar territory before veering into uncharted narrative and emotional depth.

What made Evangelion truly special was how Anno used anime to explore his deepest emotions and personal struggles. As he revealed in that 1996 interview: “Shinji does reflect my character, both the conscious and unconscious parts… I wasn’t thrown out by my father or anything. In the process of making Evangelion, I found out what kind of person I am,” he itted. “I acknowledged that I’m a fool.” The raw vulnerability of characters like Shinji, Rei, and Asuka was unprecedented in anime and played a key role in revolutionizing the medium.

Before and After Eva: A Dividing Line in Anime History

Streaming Era Ennui: Has the Urgency Faded Again?

Looking back, there's a clear divide between pre-Evangelion and post-Evangelion anime. Would TV networks and studios have greenlit daring series like Revolutionary Girl Utena (1997) or Cowboy Bebop (1998) without Evangelion first proving that audiences were ready for more mature, artistic content? It's a fair question.

In the 30 years since Evangelion aired, anime has expanded far beyond TV, theaters, and home video. With more than 100 new titles debuting each year, it all winds up online. Every show seems to find an audience, no matter how niche. But in this endlessly expanding ecosystem, we may have circled back to what Anno once warned about: “The viewers seem to be satisfied, and there’s no sense of urgency.”

So what would it take for a truly revolutionary anime to emerge today? Maybe it wouldn’t be louder or flashier than what came before. Maybe it would be honest—willing to be vulnerable, challenge expectations, and speak to something deeper. That’s what Evangelion did. And in a medium that never stops moving, its most lasting legacy may be the reminder that the most powerful stories don’t always look forward. Sometimes, they look within.