Review of Neon Genesis Evangelion

This review (probably) contains spoilers. Neon Genesis Evangelion. This name has been, for two and a half decades, engraved deeply into the culture of anime. It's theme song is iconic, the voice actors and actresses of its cast are, today, famous, some even celebrated, and undoubtedly, the show has had a huge impact in the anime industry, especially the mecha genre where it has become iconic. In some ways, this recognition is deserved. Out of the nigh (or above) 1000 titles I have personally seen, Evangelion stands as one of the most depressing (by atmosphere) titles out there. It also has a certain level of abstractnesswhich can be extrapolated as artistic arrangement by the staff. It is one of the few works to earn the 9th point on my rating rubric, and to date, there really isn't another work like it in feel (the closest being RahXephon).

All of this praise is not to say that the show is flawless and without points to critique. In fact, one of the most notable problems with the show is its plot, if it can still be called so.

The story presents itself on the stage of a globally devastated earth after a catastrophic event called the Second Impact has taken place in Antarctica. Gigantic beings called "Angels" come regularly to the city where the series takes place and the three main pilots are to fight this off.

At this point, the premise is fine and good. Once past the first or second episode which gives a taste of the depressing and mopey feel throughout the show, the series is not really that different from the majority of mecha anime out there. The show does enter a long phase of mostly monster-of-the-week mixed with what can effectively be described as a slice-of-life of Shinji's puberty cringe. When it becomes obvious that there are more clandestine operations and intentions in the backdrop, the story even seems to get more interesting.

What starts to earn the audience's ire is when the supposed "plot" hits what could be considered the climax -- when all the character's issues are running at their highest: Asuka can't pilot her Eva because Shinji's successes so far have triggered her own insecurity and Shinji just failed to prevent the crippling of his friend for life/killed someone he believed to be his friend. Rather than resolving each of these and the other side character's subplots/issues, the show goes into an abstract soliloquy for each major character round-robin.

On one hand, these soliloquys greatly spell out each major character's internal thoughts. Their id, ego and superegos become explicitly exposed to the audience. Everything bothering the character, their hopes or dreams, their psychological needs, and their individual decisionmaking is shown in great detail through this soliloquy where the characters exchange dialogue with what seems to be their perceived version of the people in their lives. For this, I do award this show with a full score for characterization.

However, these dialogues by no means conclude the series' plot in any way. So what has happened to humanity now that the Human Instrumentality Project is in place? The actualization and merge of souls of mankind into one entity is effectively the equivalent predecessor to Charles Zi Britannia's Ragnarök, which, while the concept facilitates next-level interpersonal communication and thus forever eliminates interpersonal conflicts, does so by eliminating the concept of the individual, which in turn does not necessarily mean a happy ending for anyone or even humanity itself. In fact, that would be a form a stagnation of mankind and a sort of dead end.

So is the ending trying to say that the characters are suffering so much that it is better if the world just ended and all the problems people go through should just become irrelevant?

Perhaps.

Yet, whatever the case, this is one of the parts that splits the viewers. There will be those whose mental health conditions will incline them to argue that indeed, that is the ideal solution. Yet, the split exists because there are also many whose mental health is sound enough that they will say that this solves nothing and just adds a brand new problem into the mix where nothing at all is solved.

Further complaints about the show lie in its presentation of its themes. While indeed, this show has themes and can be summarized as a growing up story of sorts, the themes in this show are mostly just dialogue in the last two episodes and some episode titles. Whereas some shows juxtapose events as a way of exploring different faces of an issue or idea, Evangelion is mostly depression in the form of unearned tragedy for various members of its cast without really any exploring. Sure, the theme of puberty troubles and the general idea of being insecure is prevalent, and the individual insecurity problems of Asuka and Shinji are shown, but two cases hardly qualify as an exploration. As such it would not be inaccurate to say that the work is the writer's scream of anguish to voice his complaints over (his personal) life's woes and the overall work, somewhat like an artist splattering paint on a canvas in vague shapes, leaving everyone to examine and try to make sense of the subsequent mess of colors.