Gundam Wing 30th anniversary

Thirty years. That’s how long it’s been since five teenage pilots descended from space in near-indestructible mobile suits to wage war against an oppressive Earth government. Little did I know back then that an anime series would set me down the path of self-learning and self-discovery.

For me, Gundam Wing isn’t just entertainment—it set me down the creative path to discover the meaning of life. During our introductory class to HTML in Secondary One, I discovered my classmate Lian Chiu building her Duo Maxwell fan shrine and got inspired to code my own shrines for the series and J-drama Beach Boys. That got me started on building websites and self-learning design and web development, but that’s a story I’ve told before.

What strikes me more now is how differently the series hits, especially when I’ve just turned 40. The series is having quite the moment in 2025. At San Diego Comic-Con, Bandai Namco pulled out all the stops for Wing’s anniversary celebration, announcing everything from 4K theatrical screenings of Endless Waltz to a new manga series bridging Endless Waltz and Frozen Teardrop. There’s even a new promotional video ‘Operation 30th’ directed by Toru Iwasawa, featuring ‘Cloaked Custom’ mobile suit designs that would make teenage me absolutely lose his mind.

The Gunpla celebration is equally impressive—those previously P-Bandai exclusive HGAC kits are finally getting North American retail release, and there’s a new Real Grade Wing Gundam Zero arriving in September. It’s the kind of comprehensive anniversary treatment that makes you realise just how much this series meant to people.

Rewatching with adult eyes

I rewatched Wing completely in 2022, and it was like discovering an entirely different series. The themes that felt heavy-handed in my teens—the anti-war messaging, the political intrigue, the constant philosophical debates about pacifism versus action—suddenly felt remarkably prescient.

The series aired around the same time The Cranberries released ‘Zombie,’ both serving as stark reminders that despite humanity’s best intentions, war never really changes. Here we are, thirty years later, and that message feels more relevant than ever. I still hope for peace for people suffering in war-torn regions, though I’ll admit I’m more jaded now while still clinging to that ‘make love not war’ belief I grew up with.

What hit me hardest on rewatch was the series’ treatment of pacifism versus action. Growing up, I resonated with Wing’s pacifist messaging—it’s how I dealt with bullies, how I approach conflicts, how I navigate disagreements. Sometimes that passive approach served me well, but I’ve learned the hard way that sometimes you need to stand up for yourself and take action to deter bullies. It’s something I hope to teach my daughter: don’t look for conflict, but stand up for yourself when needed.

Living in China for the past decade has given me a different perspective on Wing’s colonial themes too. The Earth Sphere versus colonies dynamic feels particularly relevant when you’ve witnessed firsthand how misunderstandings and propaganda shape global perceptions. People who’ve never lived here paint China as some authoritarian police state, yet I experience the safety and stability without the oppression they imagine. It’s the same kind of disconnect Wing explored between Earth’s assumptions about the space colonies and the colonies’ actual experiences.

Character appreciation

My relationship with the characters has shifted dramatically over the years. I started as a typical Heero fanboy—that cool, stoic, deadly silence appealed to the brooding teenager in me. On my first rewatch, I gravitated toward Duo’s personality and humour. But 2022’s viewing made me appreciate Wufei and Trowa’s depth, and especially Quatre’s struggle against the Zero System.

As a kid, Quatre’s psychological battle felt boring and excessive. Now I recognise it as one of Wing’s most sophisticated character arcs—a gentle soul fighting against a system designed to turn him into a perfect, emotionless weapon. In our current age of algorithms trying to manipulate our emotions and social media designed to make us more reactive, Quatre’s resistance feels incredibly relevant.

Wufei and Trowa, who seemed like simple archetypes before, revealed their complexity on rewatch. Wufei’s not just the angry loner—he’s wrestling with honour, justice, and what strength really means. Trowa’s professional mask hides incredible pain and a deep need for belonging. These are the kinds of character insights you miss when you’re primarily focused on which mobile suit looks coolest.

Broader Gundam journey

Wing might have been my gateway to Gundam, but it’s no longer my favourite in the franchise. That honour goes to SEED, which I appreciate for its superior storytelling approach—focusing on higher stakes, more realistic collateral damage, and genuine character growth rather than five pilots in near-indestructible suits.

The Kira versus Athrun conflict in SEED cut deep precisely because of those personal stakes. Here were two friends fighting for what they believed to be just causes, hurting each other despite caring deeply for one another, because people they loved had died. The mobile suits weren’t indestructible plot devices—they could be destroyed, and their pilots could die. That made every battle meaningful in ways Wing’s conflicts sometimes weren’t.

I’ve noticed Wing doesn’t get discussed as much nowadays as series like 00, Iron-Blooded Orphans, or the Universal Century entries. Perhaps it’s because younger fans are less familiar with it, or maybe newer series have simply overshadowed its achievements. That feels like a shame, because Wing deserves recognition for being many Western fans’ introduction to both Gundam and anime in general.

Enduring Philosophy

What strikes me most about Wing’s enduring appeal is its idealistic but not naive philosophy. The common theme across Gundam series suggests that universal understanding could end all wars—a kind of Newtype empathy that allows us to truly comprehend our opponents’ perspectives. By understanding what others are coming from, recognising that opponents aren’t mindlessly opposing us but have concrete reasons for their actions, we might find paths to peace.

I’ve written before about the importance of having an open mind before forming opinions. If people tried to understand others before judging, we would indeed have a more empathetic world. That’s not naive idealism—it’s a goal worth striving for, even if we fall short.

Living through the past decade of global events, watching how quickly misunderstanding can escalate into genuine conflict, Wing’s message feels more urgent than ever. The series understood that the real enemy isn’t the person across the battlefield—it’s the failure to communicate, the unwillingness to see situations from multiple perspectives, the ease with which we other those who oppose us.

Thirty years of influence

It’s remarkable to see Wing getting this level of anniversary celebration. Sunrise and Bandai do anniversaries every five years, so the attention isn’t entirely surprising, but it feels massive for my original Gundam series to hit the three-decade mark. The fact that they’re putting this much effort into celebrating it—new animation, updated designs, comprehensive media releases—suggests Wing’s influence extends far beyond nostalgic millennials like myself.

The series shaped not just my creative trajectory but my fundamental approach to conflict and understanding. From that first moment of being inspired by a classmate’s Duo Maxwell shrine to learning HTML on Geocities, to eventually building MechaBay as a spiritual successor to my original fan site, Wing’s influence ripples through decades of creative decisions.

But more than career impact, Wing taught me that peace is worth fighting for—even if that sounds contradictory. The series never claimed pacifism meant passivity. Rather, it suggested that the highest form of strength is choosing understanding over retaliation, communication over conflict, empathy over anger.

Thirty years later, watching giant robots duke it out in space while teenage pilots grapple with impossibly complex moral dilemmas, that message feels as relevant as ever. And if that’s not worth celebrating with some beautifully designed anniversary Gunpla, I don’t know what is.

Operation: 30th Anniversary is a success.