When Spirited Away won the Academy Award for Best Animated Feature in 2003, it marked a breakthrough moment for Japanese animation. Princess Mononoke, would leave behind traces that shaped some of Ghibli’s most beloved films.

Before Studio Ghibli became synonymous with cinematic magic, Hayao Miyazaki was quietly developing an idea that never made it to the screen as originally imagined. In the early 1980s, he pitched a project called Princess Mononoke, a fantastical story about a lost samurai who offers his daughter’s hand in marriage to a strange, cat-like creature. The creature was no ordinary beast; it bore an uncanny resemblance to what would later become Totoro. The story was surreal and steeped in folklore. Though the proposal was rejected, it planted creative seeds that would blossom into some of Ghibli’s most iconic works.

A Glimpse into Miyazaki’s Untamed Imagination

Totoro’s Roots in the Forest of Mononoke

This early version of Princess Mononoke, sometimes referred to as “The First Mononoke,” exists today in rough storyboards and picture book form. Published by Viz as Princess Mononoke: The First Story, it is a window into Miyazaki’s imagination before the global acclaim. The story’s strange tone and mythological logic point to a more experimental narrative. Unlike the 1997 epic we know today, this version of Princess Mononoke centered on an absurd but oddly touching tale of duty and transformation. The young girl’s journey through the forest with her feline fiancé was more allegorical than action-packed, but it carried emotional resonance all the same.

Elements from The First Mononoke did not vanish; they migrated. My Neighbor Totoro, released in 1988, borrowed the original's cat-like creature’s design almost wholesale. The beast’s wide eyes, rounded body, and forest habitat became iconic. Totoro softened the creature’s menace and transformed it into a benevolent forest spirit, but the DNA is clear. The idea of a young girl encountering a strange being in the woods carried over too. Totoro became the heart of Ghibli’s identity, but its roots were planted in a story few ever saw. The whimsical charm of Totoro masked a deeper origin tied to a stranger, older tale.

The Spirit of Mononoke in the Skies of Porco Rosso

How the Real Mononoke Reimagined the Myth

The repurposing of The First Mononoke continued with Porco Rosso, Miyazaki’s 1992 film about an Italian fighter pilot cursed to live as an anthropomorphic pig. Though seemingly unrelated, Porco’s tale also reflects First Mononoke themes. Transformation, resignation, and a lingering sense of melancholy link the two. The idea of characters bound to their fate, yet striving to find dignity within it, echoes the rejected Mononoke’s more tragic overtones. Miyazaki once said Porco Rosso was about a man who does not fight for honor or country, but just because he is a flyer. That quiet conviction mirrors the emotional core of the lost samurai tale.

By the time the real Princess Mononoke was released in 1997, Miyazaki had reimagined the concept completely. Gone was the samurai and his daughter. Instead, we met Ashitaka and San, characters locked in a brutal conflict between the gods of nature and the engines of war. But threads from the original Mononoke persisted. The ambiguous morality of the forest spirits, the clash between civilization and wilderness, and the emotional burden of transformation all remained. If the First Mononoke was a prototype, the 1997 film was its powerful evolution, shaped by years of creative refinement and sharpened by Ghibli’s growing ambition.

The Turning Point for Studio Ghibli

Totoro and the Magic of Everyday Encounters

The final version of Princess Mononoke was also a turning point for Studio Ghibli. It was the studio’s highest-grossing film in Japan until Spirited Away came along. Critics called it Miyazaki’s most mature work, and audiences responded to its epic scale and emotional intensity. It was the moment when Ghibli’s lush animation met myth and meaning with full force. And yet, it all began with a smaller story, a lost samurai, a weird forest creature, and a pact that sounded like a fairy tale. The final Mononoke was a triumph, but its spirit had first stirred in a stranger, quieter forest.

Totoro, too, became more than a creature. It became a symbol. When My Neighbor Totoro was first released alongside Grave of the Fireflies, it was considered too quiet and strange. But over time, it emerged as Ghibli’s most beloved film. Children recognized the authenticity of its gentle rhythms, and adults were moved by its subtle realism. That it came from the ashes of an unproduced fantasy made it even more remarkable. Totoro was Miyazaki translating folklore into daily life, fable into memory. The giant cat spirit may be a friend to children, but it also carries the soul of myth.

Ghibli's Quiet Echoes of the Past

The Dream That Lingers in Every Frame

Porco Rosso never reached Totoro-level fame, but it carved its own space in the Ghibli canon. The film’s unique tone, part elegy, part adventure, was unlike anything else at the time. Its hero was jaded but noble, its setting rooted in real history but tinged with fantasy. What made Porco Rosso memorable was not its plot, but its mood. That mood was born, in part, from Miyazaki’s earliest narrative instincts. Like The First Mononoke, it was about isolation, transformation, and fleeting moments of grace. Porco Rosso proved that even a failed concept could inspire beauty in an entirely different form.

The tale of the lost Mononoke reminds us that the past is not just a prologue. In the end, the first Mononoke never vanished. It transformed. Like the creatures that populate Miyazaki’s worlds, it slipped between forms and settled into stories that now feel eternal. We may never see the original on screen, but we have seen it all along.