When people think ofHayao Miyazaki, they picture sky-soaring fantasies, giant forest spirits, and richly detailed Studio Ghibli worlds. But thepath toSpirited Awaystarted on the small screen. Long before Ghibli was founded in 1985, Miyazaki was grinding it out in television anime, shaping the foundations of his trademark style. These early shows mix action, heart, and artistry in ways that will feel instantly familiar to Ghibli fans.
Before he directed a single feature film,Miyazaki left his mark on a string of ambitious and beautifully crafted TV series. These include his breakout work onLupin the Third Part I, his pastoral layouts forHeidi, Girl of the Alps, the thrillingFuture Boy Conan, and his playful turn withSherlock Hound. Each title shows a different side of his evolving creative voice, from high-flying action to quiet emotional moments. Collectively, they offer a window into the early experiments and passions of an artist who was just getting started.
The Origins of a Master Animator
A Young Animator on the Rise
In the 1960s, Miyazaki joined Toei Animation as a rookie artist with big ideas. “I was always trying to sneak in my own logic,” he said inAnimagemagazine, laughing at how often his layouts got changed. From there, he hopped between studios like A Production and Zuiyo Eizo, taking on planning and layout duties that would shape his storytelling instincts. While Studio Ghibli gave him control, it was TV where Miyazaki learned how to build emotion through movement and space. These years were about survival, collaboration, and invention, not glory. Still, the spark that became Ghibli was already glowing.
Miyazaki didn’t just design action scenes. He mapped out entire sequences like stage plays, where the characters and their emotions were inseparable from the spaces they inhabited.
Before 1971,Miyazaki had already worked on dozens of productionsbehind the scenes, many of them uncredited. He cut his teeth onHustle PunchandHorus, Prince of the Sun, the latter directed by Isao Takahata. The two men clicked. “He saw the world differently,” Miyazaki later recalled. Their teamwork pushed television animation to new levels of realism and empathy. Miyazaki didn’t just design action scenes. He mapped out entire sequences like stage plays, where the characters and their emotions were inseparable from the spaces they inhabited. It was training for the director he would one day become.
Lupin Learns a Little Class Under Miyazaki
Heidi Was Ghibli Before Ghibli
Miyazaki’s first major break came onLupin the Third Part I, the 1971 anime based on Monkey Punch’s wild manga about a gentleman thief. When ratings dipped, the producers turned to Miyazaki and Takahata to steer the ship. They reimagined Lupin as a softer, more gallant rogue and toned down the violence. “We didn’t want a cold-blooded killer,” Miyazaki said inAnimecmagazine. “We wanted a romantic.” The show’s tone shifted from gritty noir to madcap adventure, and the animation suddenly burst to life. you’re able to feel Miyazaki’s touch in every jump, fall, and perfectly timed escape in his episodes.
Fresh off the success of Lupin, Miyazaki and Takahata carried that creative momentum intoHeidi, Girl of the Alps, a 1974 adaptation of the classic children’s novel. Miyazaki served as layout artist and scene director, helping craft a warm, realistic vision of the Swiss countryside. It blends natural beauty with quiet emotional rhythms and loving attention to everyday life. “I wanted the grass to feel real enough to roll around in,” Miyazaki recalled in a 1995 interview. Obsessed with detail, he treated backgrounds like memories. The result was a lyrical, heartfelt series that became a hit across Japan and Europe.
Return of the Gentleman Thief
Miyazaki Goes Full Bond Mode
By the late 1970s,Lupin the Third Part IIwas back with a lighter tone and brighter colors. Miyazaki quietly returned under the alias Teruki Tsutomu to direct a few key episodes. These are not your average TV anime. Episode 145, “Albatross: Wings of Death,” and Episode 155, “Farewell, My Beloved Lupin,” feel like theatrical releases disguised as weekly TV. Giant airships, complex storyboards, and high-speed escapes dominate the screen. Miyazaki even slipped in some environmental commentary,a thread that would later run throughNausicaäandPrincessMononoke.Lupin was having fun, but the stakes felt real.
Behind the scenes, Miyazaki was usingLupin Part IIto experiment. “If a machine doesn’t move with purpose, the whole sequence fails,” he scribbled in a 1984 production memo. These episodes are packed with gadgets, chases, and elaborate set pieces that reflect Miyazaki’s growing love for cinematic movement. He also continued softening Lupin’s image, giving him moments of real tenderness. In a way, these episodes area direct prequel toThe Castle of Cagliostro. Miyazaki was already thinking of a film where Lupin saves the girl not for gold, but for honor.
The Birth of Future Boy Conan and Sherlock Hound
Shows That Are Not Just Footnotes
In 1978, Miyazaki took the director’s chair onFuture Boy Conan, a post-apocalyptic sci-fi adventure that aired on NHK. The show follows a boy with superhuman strength who navigates a world ruined by war and greed. “This was my first time building everything from the ground up,” Miyazaki said inAnimage. He oversaw everything from layout to plot structure. The result is a thrilling, emotional ride with clear Ghibli roots. Flying machines, strong heroines, moral clarity: it’s all there.Conanis raw, energetic, and endlessly watchable, even decades later.
Sherlock Hound, which aired in the mid-1980s, let Miyazaki do something rare: cut loose. He directed six episodes of this British-Japanese co-production, where all the characters are charming dog-people. ThinkBasil the Great Mouse Detectivewith airships. One standout episode features a chase across the rooftops of foggy London aboard a steam-powered plane. “I wanted it to feel like flying in a dream,” Miyazaki said inMeisaku Anime Fanmagazine. It may not be profound, but it’s fun and inventive. Even here, you may seethe seeds ofPorco RossoandLaputain how the machines move and the air feels.
Miyazaki’s early television work deserves more than just curiosity or trivia status. These series are where he learned to tell stories, build emotion, and move audiences without spelling everything out. The characters may not ride catbuses or fight forest gods, but they run, leap, cry, and laugh with just as much heart.For fans of Studio Ghibli, watching these shows is like discovering a hidden sketchbook: a bit rough in places, but filled with imagination. If you’ve only seen Hayao Miyazaki’s movies, you’re missing the wild, charming, and deeply human roots of Japan’s greatest animation storyteller.
