Review of Mobile Suit Gundam: GQuuuuuuX

“Gundam is a series that has a long history. I watched it as a child, and it has continued on. It’s been around a long time. However, the generation of fans has really been extended. We now have many young generations who have never even watched the first Gundam. I think the first Gundam is extremely interesting, so I really want the young people to watch it because I know they will find it interesting as well. Thankfully, we have subscriptions where you can watch it anywhere, anytime. In the past, if a show was no longer on television, you could no longer watch it.I hope that the new generation could also watch the old Gundam as well. If that is materialized, I would be really happy.”

~Tsurumaki Kazuya, asked about what he hopes *Mobile Suit Gundam: GQuuuuuuX’s* legacy would be within the franchise, excerpted from a Gizmodo interview with Isaiah Colbert, 29 April 2025.

Tsurumaki’s remark is as insightful as it is low-key hilarious. If we imagine *GQuuuuuuX* as a kind of giant trolling to get people to watch the original *Mobile Suit Gundam* (either in its original TV format or the truncated trilogy films that arguably saved the franchise), then calling this a failure is a lot harder to sell. I cannot speak on behalf of everyone, but I did happen to notice an uptick in the number of times someone catalogued the original series in some form or another. I found myself talking about lore or characters in this franchise with people who had never expressed an interest in it beforehand, and found my own intrigue in it delightfully rekindled. To possibly an even greater extent than Sunrise / Bandai Namco’s own attempt to do so with *The Witch from Mercury*, interest in *Gundam* was earnestly considering the historical object that it is, a thing that existed back in the late 1970s and has endured throughout all its sub-universes and timelines, directors, and Tomino Yoshiyuki depression. Lord knows that two others and I pestered someone in our groupwatch to “get on with” watching the trilogy films before our *GQuuuuuuX* sessions began—and he did, though it took a while!

And through all of it, people like Tsurumaki latched onto *Gundam* as a thing to love. Earlier in the article, he mentions some of the conflicting images of *Gundam* that have cropped up, using his own production staff as a test sample. Everyone knew of and loved *Gundam*, but not for necessarily the same reasons. As for what those reasons are? Only they know, and we can only guess. Yet, it is precisely because of *Gundam’s* long lifespan that it even has the privilege to be viewed with this kind of plurality. The underlying themes of war, children, violence, and space as planes of existence for mankind’s uncertain future will always exist within the franchise, but they’ve likewise always been packaged in bizarre forms. Sometimes, those forms have been compelling. Sometimes, they’ve really sucked. Sometimes, they’ve been quirky. Point being, all of these are indicative of an attempt to make sense of what *Gundam* does and means. This was even true at the start, considering it was marketing and toy-selling that ultimately saved the franchise and any ideas within it from fading into obscurity.

So, what exactly did Tsurumaki and his fellow creatives do? *GQuuuuuuX* is true *Gundam* in the sense of its holding fast to emotional cores and throwing its characters into the deeper ends of the outer space swimming pool, where fighting against something seems to be the only way they know how to live or form connection of any sort. Caught within the quagmire of trying to survive economically or spiritually, Amate Yuzuriha and Nyaan find themselves thrust into underground battles in a post-One Year War time where Zeon won and life continued along that trajectory. Crashing through the manufactured skies of Side 6, a fabled Red Gundam intrudes itself into the lives of everyone involved, chased by the titular GQuuuuuuX. And Shuji, a zombie of a soul, seems to pathologically bond with the Gundam and inserts himself (like the songs do during battle) into the dynamic between Amate and Nyaan. A found family in the oddest sense, they’re people who recognize that they are attracted to one another but cannot necessarily articulate why. The piloting of the Red Gundam and the GQuuuuuuX is itself the articulation – impulsive, bombastic, and perhaps stupid. Home is the cockpit, because even if the chance is the tiniest bit remote, they at least have some kind of respite from the outer forces they cannot control. But with one another, or through one another? Maybe salvation is possible.

Granted, that’s not to say that it does not have problems, even taking that into consideration. If *GQuuuuuuX* was to be analyzed like it were plain text on paper and divorced from just about everything else (which is a habit we must break), it would indeed appear that things kind of happen seemingly out of nowhere. How could the characterization appear to be so vague? Why even bother proposing some kind of multiverse / alt-timeline if you won’t give it more time? How could it rely so heavily on nostalgia key-jingling for its audience, as “hype” as those moments could be? How could it do this? For those who may long for the days of 50-episode *Gundam* sagas and the so-totally-straight-amirite interpretation of its characters or actions, *GQuuuuuuX* seems to run (and not just in the OP) afoul with reckless abandon. Maybe it would be nice if every single moment along the way had a clean explanation that could be found by pointing at a screenshot.

But what would that actually achieve? Not much, I don’t think. Reason being, the series is not trying to hit upon something that neatly maps onto a conventional narrative structure. With any franchise that has a long lifespan, there reaches a point of acceptance as a fan when you long to see things get a little weirder or get a little crazier, coherence to the narrative be damned. *Dragon Ball DAIMA* may not have done the idea of worldbuilding in its universe or “the lore” many favors, but it had a grasp on the inherent silliness of its setting and followed through, barely giving any concern to “canonicity.” Tsurumaki and his team have created something that exists in pure enthusiasm, something born from underlying love and affection, and that’s not easily mappable onto a story that we did not ourselves take part in creating in regards to writing or developing. But tonally? It’s there in every swooping camera shot, Amate or Nyaan getting mad, Shuji being the aloof dork wunderkind, or Kycilia wearing her mask and executing the people who hate her while she sits right there, watching it all unfold.

*GQuuuuuuX* as a piece of media is not to be analyzed in the typical way that we do with caring so deeply about plots, characters, or any of the other ways we exercise as media consumers / interpreters of media. This series pointedly does not exist in a vacuum; it exists entirely because of the original’s existence and the profound influence it had on Tsurumaki and everyone else who ever thought about its universe, dressed like Char for an anime convention (and hopefully didn’t think his “drop a meteor on it” philosophy was a good idea), or saw Fa running in the ED of their dreams. Is the series nostalgic? Unapologetically. Is it a mess? Unapologetically. Was it made with love? Unapologetically.

And I suspect Tomino would be okay with this.

When Tomino created *∀ Gundam*, it was a declaration that all kinds of ideas about what *Gundam* was up to that point were accepted with his blessing. In keeping with that optimistic spirit, that show’s very existence was also a way of saying that, in a way, *Gundam* no longer belonged to him. In drawing upon the language of universal quantification for the show’s title (∀), he was likewise giving a blessing to those who sought to see what *Gundam* could do from then on. Tomino is in his 80s at the time of this writing; he has more years behind him than ahead of him. He cannot keep making *Gundam* forever, so it must be left in the hands of those who love the material so much that they would want to do something, anything, with it beyond token marketing.

That is, ultimately, what Tsurumaki and his team have done. Even if they have never themselves experienced war like those of the past, they love *Gundam* and what it means, and given the chance to take the keys from Sunrise / Bandai Namco, they allowed their juices to flow with a kind of freedom that many creatives wish they could be afforded. They knew this process, and the product that would result, would be an alienating one, but it’s a risk they took on with full knowledge of that. *Gundam* at its best has always taken risks, be they narrative or metatextual. And here now, I find myself more enthused than ever for what lies ahead. Like its many models, or debates over whether the Rick Dom or GM were stronger according to Tsurumaki’s interview, *Gundam* will continue into whatever bizarro version of itself it has in store.

Tomino's *Gundam* is not coming back in the strictest sense. It was forged during a time when increasingly-dying-out people were old enough to remember--or live in the aftershock of--Japan's most horrifying traumatic event. I highly doubt anyone would say that such an event needs to be experienced again just so another installment can be made that "has actual meaning for my fellow Newtypes." War is always a stone's throw away (and as such, war fiction will forever be in vogue), but there are other battles to be fought as time and its protagonists sprint forward. *GQuuuuuuX* is not like old *Gundam*, and that’s how it should be. Because, now in the year 2025, it makes the claim that, even in the midst of circumstances you cannot make heads or tails of, humanity's ability to cling to SOMETHING, or even perhaps anything, is the first step in taking your own future by the reins, even if that something is acknowledging your own malaise or frustration. Tsurumaki wanted to make people watch *Gundam*. He had that something, and he did something with it.

And if you ask me, that’s pretty dope.