Neon Genesis Evangelion

I recently finished re-watching the original TV version of Neon Genesis Evangelion again. It's the first time I've seen the entire series end-to-end since the 3rd Rebuild of Evangelion film, You Can (Not) Redo, was released in 2012 as I figured it would make more sense to just continue waiting for the release of the final film in the tetralogy and go back to the OG 90's television anime which I have always liked more than the new movies for a few reasons (anther topic). What surprised me as I went through it is how potent it remained as an artistic statement, even after all these years and time spent watching it (this was my third or fourth time seeing the complete series). It was burned into my brain like a sunspot in my vision and despite having more than enough exposure to both the original series and the new films to see every twist and plot beat coming a mile away, it still manages to hit like a ton of bricks and for the longest time I wasn't exactly sure why (since this show is pretty much the archetypal over-analyzed work I'll try to keep this bried). Someone linked me this video and I think the creator hit on something that explained part of Neon Genesis Evangelions appeal: its relation to other forms of media as a work of pulp fiction. This got me thinking back to this video on the role of camp in the appeal of another favorite piece of fiction of mine, Metal Gear Solid 3: Snake Eater. Like MGS3, NGE uses its foundation in pulp/campy genres (spy movies in the case of Metal Gear, giant mecha anime in the case of NGE) to disarm the viewer and lull them into a false sense of security with the familiar tropes of that particular genre, before sucker punching their audiences with uncharacteristically deep/intense emotional beats. Unlike Metal Gear Evangelion utilizes a lot of repetition and call-backs to previous scenes to highlight and reinforce those emotional bits, often in a darker light than previously conveyed. It's not exactly avante-garde but coupled with the noticeably repetitive score it combines to create a strange Pavlov's Dog scenario where relatively simple audio or visual cues inspire a strong emotional reaction.  It's probably pretty obvious as you're experiencing either of these works but somehow it took until just now to click for me.

Another aspect of Neon Genesis Evangelion that is likely memorable to many is its distinctive art direction paired with director Hideaki Anno's penchant for lingering still frames. Despite almost certainly being related to the fact that the production team was working with a rapidly dwindling budget the relatively quiet minimalism of some of these frames has always stood out to me as quite beautiful:

Note the two silhouettes at the bottom right having a conversation over this backdrop

Motion blur is frequently used along with present-day-staple cicada calls to evoke heat. Obviously looks better in motion :/

These are just a couple of shots that caught my eye in the last ten or so episodes - the show is chock full of evocative landmark shots like this. Again, not really Citizen Cane cinematography here but its all part of the vividly colored yet terribly bleak atmosphere of Evangelion. The final aspect of this show that I've always really appreciated is the sense of cumulative loss that builds throughout the series' arc that is actually reflected in the incidental background chatter. To be fair a good portion of it is total sci-fi military filler without any real impact on anything, there seems to have been a surprising amount of effort made to keep the timeline relatively constant and continuous. Battle damage on buildings/characters and environmental destruction from previous episodes is frequently mentioned or remarked on, and actually impacts how they respond to future challenges. For example, in one later episode one of the titular Evangelions (basically giant robots piloted by the main characters) loses an arm in a fight and when its forced back into battle in the next episode the forced to improvise with it because... it's still missing an arm. No bullshit timeskips to "1 week later" when everything is nice and fixed up which (for me at least) lends a sense of weight and reality to this universe. It would be interesting to know how much of this straight-line continuity was a result of conscientious work by the production staff or just a happy byproduct of the story continually evolving on an episode-by-episode basis, forcing the team to just work with whatever had been done up until that point without any funds or time for rewrites. Whatever the specific reasons, that sense of consequence contributes significantly to the shows appeal to me.

Regarding the "New Theatrical Edition" Evangelion films (currently numbering three, with the final fourth on the way): I'm withholding judgement. Up until the third one, You Can (Not) Redo I would've told you I didn't really care for them, and that still holds mostly true where the second film is concerned. The first one is fine but kind of a snooze, and I'm really not a fan of the overly-clean CG special effect-y look of them, but You Can (Not) Redo was like a blast of cool air on a sticky August night so I've got faith that Anno and his crew can pull off a compelling finale.