Wednesday, June 11, 2014

The End of Evangelion


Warning: Strong language and spoilers ahead

The most obvious comment I can make about The End of Evangelion is that its title is immensely ironic. With Rebuild of Evangelion, a series which appears to be an attempt to make the most ground-breaking and fascinating anime of all time into a cookie-cutter, paint-by-numbers mecha series, often playing to tropes which the original Eva itself spawned (I imagine a grotesque ouroboros with Rei Ayanami's face as a visual metaphor for the whole enterprise), Evangelion is not over. But my goodness do I wish it was. For those utterly confused by the existence of End of Evangelion-- that is to say, those asking why this movie directly contradicts the timeline and events of the rest of the series-- I have no good answer, other than that diehard Evangelion fans were extremely disappointed in Episodes 25 and 26 and Gainax decided to make a movie to provide an alternate ending to the series, drawn by the irresistible smell of profitability from fan hate-boners. After all, the opposite of love/commercial viability isn't hate, it's indifference. I should add that before I continue, I wish to do away with any trace of critical seriousness or "professionalism," seeing as this movie did away with any trace of the basic requirements of writing, pacing, plot and tonal consistency. So, on that note, let me summarize my feelings on the film right here: fuck this fucking piece of shit movie I hate it so fucking much.

So what's left to say after that, really? Well, my feelings towards the film as an actual cinematic experience are recorded above, but if taken in the proper context, I believe the film makes a fairly well-articulated statement about knowing when enough is enough, and that some things are better left unsaid and unexplored. There's a classic phrase in writing: "Kill your Darlings". Roughly translated, this means "don't be a pretentious douchebag". It's valuable advice to writers at any level. With End of Evangelion, I get the sense that Hideaki Anno dug up every single darling, as well as some fan "what if" scenarios, and put them onto the screen in the most overindulgent, unsubtle way humanly possible. And you know what? Some people actually like this movie as a film experience. I would say good for them, but I wouldn't mean it. Good for Gainax, who profited from condescending to their audience and using the logic that a movie with lots of shiny things, explosions and gratuitous nudity will inevitably be well-received.



With a movie like Star Wars: The Phantom Menace or End of Evangelion, in which a beloved series' progenitor appears to systematically destroy his own franchise (either intentionally or unintentionally), it is difficult to point out what is wrong with each film because the simple answer is everything. Each film not only bears no similarity to a good movie, at times neither is recognizable as being part of the form of cinema; they are groundbreaking in their ineptitude. End of Evangelion is bafflingly incapable of telling a coherent series of events, writing characters with any discernible logical motivation, understanding space and time as concepts, or using basic point-A-to-point-B plot development, as exposition and climax are constantly jammed together in the same sequence. The film gets to the point where every 5 minutes a new object, invariably named the "pseudo-religious noun of pseudo-religious noun" is introduced as a plot device and then immediately used to no knowable effect. The jerkoff characters in the control room are given a weirdly huge amount of screen time, as they continue yelling out the plot while SEELE invades their headquarters and the entire surface of the earth appears to be decimated (I understand that they're an underground operation, but how exactly is their equipment still working after all that?). The main characters all bear little resemblance to the complex, well-developed people in the series and instead become drooling caricatures or the complete opposite of their pre-established personalities. Shinji is set up to be not a traumatized and cowardly but ultimately empathic boy-- he's a catatonically depressed, useless, perverted wet blanket. He doesn't seem tormented over killing Kaworu so much as "sad because reasons." Asuka is suddenly and inexplicably brought out of her depression (along with the staggeringly stupid reveal that her mother's consciousness is in Eva-02, speaking of which, wasn't it more or less rendered useless in Episode 24?) only to be killed off almost immediately. Misato turns into a bizarre fusion between an action hero and a pedophile.

But these are all symptoms of a much greater disease in End of Evangelion: subtlety is done away with entirely. Every ambiguity is replaced with bombast. Misato doesn't touch Shinji's hand for him to shrink away, she gives him a full lip-lock and a terrifying promise of sex at some point in the future, before promptly dying (despite seeming perfectly fine moments before). Gendo doesn't stay in the shadows as Rei's rapist, he shoves his hand into her crotch. The religious imagery used sparingly beforehand turns into a major plot device, while Kabbalah symbols and crucifixion imagery are thrown about willy-nilly. And Shinji turns out to be TOTALLY GAY because he's now a creepy pervert who hates women, or something. Yet I believe this is all evidence of what was ultimately Anno's project with this movie; on the one hand, he was poking fun at the fandom, showing just how terrible it would be if all of the major ambiguities and questions were answered. At the same time, I believe there are a few moments in here which Anno might have actually liked but decided to cut out because he knew they wouldn't work.


For instance, Rei rejecting Gendo and asserting her own personhood is an interesting idea for a scene and could work well, but there's no reason why Rei III would want to do that because she hasn't learned everything Rei II did. Further, Rei apparently decides not to use Lilith for Instrumentality but instead starts the Third Impact, but given Shinji's internal breakdown, it becomes difficult to tell the difference between the two, especially because at the end it seems like only Shinji and Asuka (wasn't she dead...?) are around, having chosen individualism over being part of a vast cosmic soup. The idea of Shinji's choice being more about the ability to live as an individual than whether to go on living or not is a decent one as well, although now his mental breakdown seems to be almost entirely about how much he's afraid of all women (an idea that comes seemingly out of nowhere) and due to this fear/hatred is drawn towards Kaworu. I was already rolling my eyes pretty hard before the "is this better, Shinji?" line in which giant-Rei shifts into giant-Kaworu, but that one made me look like I was in the throes of demonic possession. I think this is largely a response to a trend which continues to be a problem in the otaku community, which is the sexualization of all female characters in a series. This comes despite the fact that the show already addresses the sexuality of all three of its female leads at least in brief, and often shows the negative effects of the culture's expectations of female sexuality. Misato wants to be desired but to also have no desires herself, Asuka views sex as a means of gaining self-worth, Rei has been convinced that as a girl, her sexuality is not her own, and Gendo's molestation is simply something she must accept. What more does the show really have to say? Well, nothing. But that's the point. The fans wanted the show to be sexier. This is what happens when you try to make Evangelion sexy.

The film also looks nothing like Neon Genesis Evangelion; once again, some of these visual ideas seem kind of neat, but Anno probably cut them out of the series because he figured out they didn't belong in the show. In the movie, I think he directed the art team to go apeshit after handing in whatever kind of incomprehensible mess the script was (I imagine it on 200 pages of a legal pad, written in blood). Here are a few examples of how the art direction went completely off the rails in this movie:






While I do appreciate that Shinji's reactions to the events taking place approximately mirror my feelings while watching the movie (lots of tearing of hair, gnashing of teeth and screaming "make it stop!"), the characters are drawn with extremely exaggerated features and expressions sometimes, which never happened in the anime. Nor did Rei have enormous breasts (oh, excuse me, she's Lilith now? Well of course, now everything make sense!). Nor did hardly any of this fantasy bullshit ever happen in the show, and the movie simply introduces these elements with essentially no explanation. By the way, what the hell does "the pilot's ego can't take this much longer" even mean? Like Shinji's going to go more and more insane the longer the events of this terrible movie keep going on? Can't say I blame him, then. 

There is a certain bitterness to the message of End of Evangelion. Late in the series' running, Anno became extremely disenchanted with otaku culture: fans who wanted the wrong things from anime, didn't understand the series they were fans of, and expected the authors of the show to cater to their desires. Further, after the series finale, Anno received a slew of nasty, angry letters and even death threats from former fans who claimed he had ruined the series for them. Some of these letters are even flashed up on the screen in End of Evangelion, making the point clearer to the audience: you don't write the fucking show, leave me alone. Indeed, the central metaphor to the story is Shinji masturbating over Asuka's catatonic body. It's as if Anno is telling you right from the beginning: I am completely jerking off here, and you won't even know it. End of Evangelion is a cautionary tale about both self-indulgence and the effects of an avid audience on the artistic process. While I do appreciate the message, it seems to have been lost on most, and the movie is painful to watch. I truly wish the fandom had accepted the original ending, and I definitely wish that no-one threatened to kill Hideaki Anno. Because if one or both of those things had never happened, maybe this film would never have existed. For me, the true end of Evangelion is Episode 26, no questions asked. If this movie is actually supposed to replace it and be part of the cannon, I honestly don't care.

Because fuck this movie. Fuck, fuck, fuck this goddamn movie. Oh, and also:


Does anyone want to make the argument that this movie isn't stupid?



Wednesday, June 4, 2014

Neon Genesis Evangelion, Part 2


The difficulty with writing about a show like Neon Genesis Evangelion is that it is so dense and so rich, with so many great moments (other series, even good ones, are lucky to have even one great scene for every six that Evangelion has) that many are ultimately lost in the mix. Evangelion is the kind of show which can establish Toji Suzuhara at first as a simple-minded jerk, then an emotionally vulnerable boy who clings to his sister as the last thing he has to maintain his identity and personhood, and then gracefully show his transition (or rather, sad resignation) to becoming an Eva pilot- the very thing which he hated Shinji for beforehand-- all within about an hour of screentime. The show has a capacity to show relationships which other series and films find difficult to portray, or perhaps never do. Toji and Kensuke can never rid Shinji of his sense of loneliness because their friendship is entirely conditional and mostly superficial. It's the kind of commonplace, unromantic friendship which lesser series choose to ignore. In Episode 17 ("The Fourth Child"), we see that Toji is no idiot: he knows Hikari's feelings for him but acts oblivious. He doesn't want to hurt her, and doesn't want to get hurt himself. Yet Evangelion shows this with minimal dialogue, without unnecessary and heavy-handed comparisons to the central characters (see? Toji and Shinji are just the same!). It's the kind of series which not only respects but expects the audience's intelligence to guide them through.

I've always found the frustration surrounding Episodes 25 and 26 confusing. To me, it's not an obvious route, but the most logical route to resolve what the show is actually about. Episode 16 ("Splitting of the Breast") started a trend in Evangelion: the characters' personal lives and the conflicts with the Angels were drawing closer and closer together. Asuka is a character who sees her ability as her only form of self-worth, as she envies Misato's ability to be seen a sex object. Her decline in performance as an Eva pilot is proportional to her personal decline, leading to catatonic depression. Rei, meanwhile, has begun to learn that there is a difference between her personal life and her role in NERV. The most beautiful part of Rei II's arc is that as she forms a personality, she keeps what's been central to her this whole time: sacrifice. She's always been told to sacrifice herself if necessary, because she's expendable. If this one dies, just get another one from the tank. But Rei II learns that it's not always an ideology or an institution you live for- especially not one as crooked and thuggish as NERV- sometimes it's people. She's learned to love Shinji, as much as she's capable of love. Her sacrifice is not for Humanity or NERV or even to win, it's for him. Gendo would probably hate her for it. But there's an axiom in Evangelion if ever there was one: if Gendo Ikari hates you, you're probably a good person.




Finally, as the fragile social life Shinji had begun to build comes undone, he finds everything he's ever wanted while alone on the beach. It's a little on the nose, as Kaworu stands atop a winged statue whistling "Ode to Joy". We know that he's a little bit too good to be true. By the time Kaworu syncs perfectly with Eva 02, it's become completely obvious. But it isn't to Shinji, or maybe he's just become great at pushing things which bother him to the back of his mind. For some time now, the Angels have given Shinji a role and a place where he belongs. The audience might very well be wondering what will happen once he's beaten them all. Maybe he has as well, except for that aforementioned skill of his. Kaworu finally brings Shinji true purpose and happiness, and then forces him to take it away from himself. Maybe I was wrong that the show is neutral towards its protagonist-- near the end it's mercilessly cruel towards him. But that's the point: life is cruel to Shinji, and his real struggle this whole time has been with the will to live, and his noted lack of it. By Episode 25, the Angels are defeated. All that the plot could possibly do is move towards the mysterious Instrumentality Project, and actually showing the process of the Instrumentality Project, well, I believe the point Anno was trying to make with End of Evangelion was that doing so would be an utterly abortive effort (but more on that next time). The show has been about the characters struggling with their lives which they hate. What better way to portray that struggle than to reach deep into the characters' minds? Episode 26 is not only plenty climactic for the show, it's the most genuinely triumphant climax I've ever seen.

Speaking of Kaworu's hymn of choice, much has been made of Evangelion's religious imagery and themes. There is some merit to simply handwaving it away, as director Kazuya Tsurumaki claims the imagery was simply to give the show a distinctive look. Anno himself treats the religious themes in the show with a bit of tongue-in-cheek humor, stating "I chose the word 'Evangelion' because it's Greek and it sounds important." The religious references are often apocryphal: Kaworu identifies the presumed 1st Angel named Adam as actually being Lilith, Adam's supposed first wife before Eve (his third), according to an apocryphal Kabbalah text. Rei uses the Lance of Longinus, named after the legendary spear which pierced Jesus' side (the Roman soldier is not named in any of the gospels), and there are only four named angels in the Bible (Gabriel, Michael, Raphael and Uriel), the other names come from elsewhere. What does this all amount to? In a sense, I think it's simply an expression of Anno's appreciation for religion as a collection of myths.



Conversely, it's also an expression of religion's inability to impart meaning upon someone who feels his or her life is meaningless. Abrahamic religions (Judaism, Christianity, Islam) all hold that life has intrinsic meaning. You're here because God put you here, and if that's not good enough for you, go to hell (literally). Shinji's life seems to have as much meaning and purpose as can be had. He's the savior of humanity, and one could see him as the obvious messiah figure. However, he doesn't accept this role, and feels no sense of purpose or gratification. While he acts as the central figure of a series of events which appear to be prophesied in some capacity, religious images like the Christian cross appear, but they signify nothing. To me, the religious images are like an atheist (or in Anno's case, an agnostic) walking through the streets of New York City, passing by infinite churches, as well as several temples, synagogues and mosques, knowing that these buildings mean everything to some people, and nothing to him. Kaworu, himself supposedly a part of this Kabbalahan cabal, represents Anno's refutation of Buddhism:
"Humans constantly feel pain in their hearts. Because the heart is so sensitive to pain, humans also feel that to live is to suffer. You're so delicate, like glass, especially your heart."
One can note a hint of condescension from Kaworu (and perhaps Anno himself) explaining that humans, in their ignorance, feel that to live is to suffer because of their sensitivity. Although Kaworu eventually causes Shinji tremendous pain, he doesn't betray him the way Shinji thinks he does. He shows him a major point Evangelion has been leading up to: life is what you make of it. Meaning is not intrinsic, but constructed. Although he is unlike any other Angel due to his ability to connect with Shinji emotionally, Kaworu is indeed not human. He explains that "life and death are of equal value to me... And, you are not a being who should die. Your people need the future."




There is an interesting theme of homoeroticism in Shinji and Kaworu's friendship, one which is introduced almost immediately. Shinji, at least, clearly interprets it as such. In time, however, it's clear that as an Angel, Kaworu does not really have a gender or sexuality. They do, however, have physical intimacy; rather than connoting sexual feelings, this physicality actually represents innocence. Episode 24 ("The Final Messenger") is full of references to the Book of Genesis and the Fall of Man. Shinji and Kaworu's relationship is like a friendship before original sin. Indeed, in the (in)famous bath scene, Kaworu doesn't even seem to realize that he's naked. 

Sexual shame is a prevalent theme throughout Evangelion, particularly in Episode 25, as Misato tortures herself over her sex life. But as she does so, it seems increasingly unlikely that she's actually promiscuous at all. Rather, she seems to be struggling with certain cultural expectations: that as a woman she should not express or even have sexual desire, that she should not enjoy sex, that she should not allow others to see her as a sexual being. With regards to the last of these, it becomes clearer just what that aspect of her relationship with Shinji is: she wants to be desired, but she doesn't want him to know that she has desires herself. She wishes to buy into a culture in which men want and women are wanted, but this wish is frustrated by the fact that she is a human being. Shinji also views sexual desire as a source of shame, as he wonders whether he truly likes the girls in his life for who they are, or for what they represent to him as an adolescent male. It's because of this that his friendship with Kaworu is so precious to him. Their friendship is intimate, and yet without a sense of exploitation: the very Aristotelian definition of a good friendship.

Then there is that very Freudian revelation: that Yui Ikari is (in some sense) Eva 01. I say it's Freudian because the circumstances could all present a very common trope: the Oedipus Complex. After all, Shinji hates his father and regularly enters his mother, so to speak. While hallucinating in Eva 01, he fantasizes about the girls in his life (one of whom is Rei) before ultimately recognizing the female consciousness as his mother, who then appears idealized and, of course, nude. But I don't think that's what Evangelion is getting at. I don't think it's saying that due to childhood trauma, Shinji lusts after his mother (or rather, the idea of his mother), and I don't think it's saying (in true Orson Scott Card fashion) that Shinji is indeed sexually attracted to Kaworu as the result of his trauma and neuroses. Shinji doesn't want sex. At least, not primarily. He wants love. Indeed, he wants for it. As the people in his life clearly value him only for what they can get from him (even as Misato mourns his apparent death, she still refers to him as "my Shinji" rather than seeing him as his own person), he slowly gets the sense that his mother is the only person in his life who's ever loved him (or at least unconditionally loved him). Indeed, it's appropriate that Rei, the recovered remnants of Yui, eventually does learn to love him, but she's been too warped and manipulated by Gendo for him to know it.



Speaking of Gendo, has there ever been such a loathsome and detestable character in any series? His apparently legitimate attachment to Rei may be a product of his devotion to Yui, but the show strongly implies that Yui's fusion into Eva 01 was no accident, but in fact a means of controlling the Eva. Given that many of Shinji's victories come from Eva 01's "berserk" mode (i.e. Yui's consciousness snapping to life in order to protect her son), it seems likely that Gendo simply used her as a pawn. The fact that he took Yui's family name is also interesting and indicative of some kind of real relationship; and yet we see that he is also an adulterer and a child rapist, that he had no sense of fidelity towards Yui or towards Ritsuko now (a plot point which has always bothered me; it's largely unexplained and comes out of nowhere). The fact that Gendo is in no way a traditional antagonist actually increases the audience's hatred for him. Most devastatingly, he essentially gets what he wants in the end.

Shinji, for his part, gets nothing. He is estranged from Misato and Asuka, the Rei he knew is dead, his familiarity with NERV and their practices makes him dislike and distrust everyone in the organization (for good reason), and he is forced to kill the only real friend he's ever had. Until Episode 26, this is a series in which the bad guys win and the well-intentioned are manipulated into moral compromise, ultimately losing not only their dignity but their ability to be unequivocally called "good guys". In the entire series, the most likable character with the fewest moral hangups is Kaworu, the last Angel. But in Episode 26, we see that while Gendo has gotten what he wanted, he hasn't succeeded in removing Shinji's personhood and humanity. The ending of Neon Genesis Evangelion is jarring and strange, as we see an alternate reality in which Shinji lives a normal life with decent parents and real friendships. But this all leads up to a greater point, one which is stunning in its simplicity and lack of profundity: life doesn't have to be like this. In the end, there is nothing about Shinji's life that he really likes. It would have been much better if his mother were alive, if he didn't have to pilot the Eva, and if his father were a completely different person. But those things were never pre-determined, they happened due to people's choices, most of them made outside of his control or understanding. Now, as he transitions into adulthood, he sees the ability to escape his past and realizes the joy in the fact that the future is unwritten.



Neon Genesis Evangelion spawned many imitators, most of them ill-conceived. It's difficult to try to recreate what is ultimately an extremely personal project by a brilliant auteur. However, I think it opened the door for the truly artistic anime series which would come after it. Hayao Miyazaki, brilliant director that he is, strayed from anime drawing styles and conventions (after Nausicaa of the Valley of the Wind, the first project on which he and Anno worked together) to create what were ultimately excellent, off-beat Disney movies. After Neon Genesis Evangelion, it was a reaffirmation of the anime style as a means of creating art. I can't imagine Cowboy Bebop, Big O, Fullmetal Alchemist or, of course, FLCL (created by Anno's protege and Evangelion episode director Kazuya Tsurumaki) without Evangelion. Those series are all brilliant, with deeper meanings than their individually entertaining and action-packed episodes portray. But nothing can quite match the intensity and the catharsis that is achieved by Neon Genesis Evangelion. I don't quite understand what it means, but I've always found the last three slides of the show (what I believe to be Anno's direct statements to the audience) perfect, in their own mysterious way.
Thank you Father. Goodbye, Mother. And to all children, Congratulations.

It's an ending that would go down in history, but for all the wrong reasons. More on that next time.