Neon Genesis Evangelion: The End of Evangelion (1997)
Existential Reckoning
Directed by: Hideaki Anno
Cinematography by: Hisao Shirai
Country: Japan
Hideaki Anno's The End of Evangelion is his remake of the final two episodes of his 1995 anime series Neon Genesis Evangelion, in which a few teenagers suit up in giant mech suits to defend a post-apocalyptic Earth from invading creatures of unknown origins deemed Angels. End of Evangelion takes place after the final Angel has been terminated and sees two warring factions of the planet's secret elite attempting to usher humanity into its next stage of existence through forced, planet-destroying spiritual singularity. A mass-extinction reaping of souls into a single, everlasting body. And yes, you do need to have watched the whole series to understand what's going on in the movie, although even then, you won't entirely understand what's going on in the movie.
Though I wouldn't call the film or series even remotely religious, as there's a complete lack of proselytizing, the story, themes, and symbolism are drenched in so much unmistakeable Christian mythology it might as well be psychotically unhinged Veggie Tales; taking both the old and new testaments into such insane mind-fuck territories with eye-popping animation and avant-garde formalism it will have you questioning your own view of reality. The second half of The End of Evangelion is a constant stream of semi-panicked, full-throated "what the fuck is happening!?!" inquiries that never receive any concrete answers - if they're answered at all. The best advice is to just embrace the cataclysmic celestial tidal wave that sweeps you into the sublime realms of fear and awe as it shows you its incredible but genuinely demented sights.
I rewatched the entire series before rewatching this movie, and though I remembered both having some pretty difficult depictions of depression, I forgot how absolutely gutting the episodes get as the series progresses. It becomes excruciating to watch, essentially turning into Clinical Depression: The Show - and those feelings only intensify in the movie as you see people, whether teenagers or adults, pushed far past their breaking points and then pushed even further, resulting in a flurry of psychotic breaks that reduce protagonists to their most basic survival instincts.
The End of Evangelion is not a horror film, but it contains oceans of existential horror on both micro and macro levels. The kind that morphs those it touches into trembling, terrified animals with nothing to hold on to, sucked into the depths of the raging sea of complete ego death: a type of internal self-annihilation that Hideaki Anno often represents externally throughout the story. It's well-known that Anno was deeply depressed himself when making the series, and it undeniably shaped the narrative and animation. The self-loathing is palpable, and for anyone who suffers from or has suffered from depression, the mirror that's held up cuts deeply enough that you may need to take a breather or two. It's a challenging but necessary reflection. Growth requires confrontation with the parts of ourselves we'd rather keep hidden, and as my favorite quote from the great Carl Jung proclaims, "One does not become enlightened by imagining figures of the light, but by making the darkness conscious."
And this is also where the positive side of existentialism comes in, for as much as Anno torments the viewer with torrents of nihilistic annihilation, he also depicts the sublime beauty and resilience inherent in existentialist belief (more so in the series than the movie, which I don't even know what the ending of The End of Evangelion is intended to communicate) - the way it can turn emptiness into possibility, into everything, a lifeline for those caught in the silent sufferings and unseen undercurrents of depression and mental illness. As I stated in my IG story, I originally came upon the series in 2015 as I was coming to terms with my own depression that had been hounding me since early adolescence. It was also around this time that I had begun exploring existentialism as a belief system, so the culmination these emotional life events as I was watching this series and movie that reflected all the rumblings and irrevocable changes going on in my own psyche was a profound experience. It was the light in the dark showing me that I had finally found my own path.
For me, one of the most brutal parts of depression is the tunnel vision, not being able to see anything outside of myself or what's directly in front of me, obsessing over imaginary finish lines that I'm supposed to reach within society's designated ranges, feeling overwhelming shame anytime I miss a mark, and boy do I miss marks. However, existentialism doesn't just broaden that tunnel vision - it scrubs it clean. It erases the whole damn thing. Because ultimately, everything is absurd and meaningless. This isn't a bad thing though. It just takes a little reframing.
That emptiness that comes with mental illness and existential crises does not have to be a void, a vacuum, an all-encompassing nothingness. It can be a blank canvas for us to create whatever we want, to truly live free, to live life on our own terms outside of arbitrary and outdated norms and social conventions. Existentialism is a way to see our own validity, our inherent worth just for existing every day in an inherently meaningless universe, and a way to create our own purpose - a way to focus on the journey, the actual moment-to-moment experiences of life that make existence so precious, rather than the endless series of finish lines that are often there simply because they're there, even when they offer no inherent benefit within the human condition. While goals and societal milestones are a great way to stay motivated and engaged with everything our existence has to offer, life is not a checklist. Life is not a board game. When all is said and done, there are no totaled points, no final reward for finishing first, last, in between, or not at all. The value is in simply being, and making the best of that being because you want to, not because it's expected. Live authentically and freely, to the best of your abilities. Be you. Be your own sense - your own reserve - of self-worth.
To add another quote, this one from the humanist philosopher and psychologist Erich Fromm, "If other people do not understand our behavior—so what? Their request that we must only do what they understand is an attempt to dictate to us. If this is being "asocial" or "irrational" in their eyes, so be it. Mostly they resent our freedom and our courage to be ourselves. We owe nobody an explanation or an accounting, as long as our acts do not hurt or infringe on them. How many lives have been ruined by this need to "explain," which usually implies that the explanation be "understood," i.e. approved. Let your deeds be judged, and from your deeds, your real intentions, but know that a free person owes an explanation only to himself—to his reason and his conscience—and to the few who may have a justified claim for explanation."
Hip hop artist Kid Cudi has a similar sentiment, albeit more concise, on the track "Up Up & Away," when he said:
"I'll be up-up and away, up-up and away
'Cause they gon' judge me anyway, so, whatever"
Wrapping up my ramblings though and getting back to The End of Evangelion, like a lot of anime, it has some sketchy aspects too. In many regards, it's a masterpiece, but it's far from flawless, and it definitely gets the ick for some of its representations of underage sexuality and nudity (some of the Freudian stuff is also a bit much). I mean, the protagonist literally masturbates on his bare-chested female frenemy as she's catatonic in a hospital bed two minutes into the movie. While it's certainly telling of the character's mental state and in line with his arc and characterization - signifying the shame and impaired decision-making that comes with clinical mental illness - including the scene and showing the things that were shown involving middle-school characters was absolutely a choice - a highly unnecessary choice. That being said, that's just the hand you're dealt when it comes to a lot of anime (though maybe the culture is changing a bit more as more underheard voices become part of the conversation), and similar to some horror and avant-garde films and certain music genres, enduring problematic shit is unfortunately a required experience for much of the art form that, if you're able to compartmentalize, offers some genuinely profound messages and unparalleled experiences.
Distributed by: Manga Entertainment
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