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.