So, where to begin? There's very little that can be said about End of Evangelion that everyone you talk to will agree with, and that makes reviewing it a bit more challenging than most films. Some will like it, some will hate it. Most will be confused. And that's okay. It should be said that this is not a film to go into blind. Knowing the story so far, portrayed in the series Neon Genesis Evangelion, is necessary. And while that fact is likely to turn some people away, all I can really say to that effect is "it's worth it, trust me." One thing I can say with absolute certainty: EoE is a masterpiece.
If at any point in this review, it appears that I am evading description of the story/plot, it is because this film is basically a 90 minute climax for the 26 episode series that preceded it. It is difficult to describe any amount of the plot without including spoilers, which I have attempted to keep to a minimum. Because of this, I tried to focus more on the effect of the film, rather than the way the exact narrative unfolds. Despite this, I do attempt to describe one scene to better convey the film's emotional tone. Take this as a warning that very minor spoilers follow.
EoE is a film that will likely take several viewings to truly pick up on everything it is trying to convey, both thematically and visually. There is an attention to detail that I suspect will go sadly unnoticed, as a lot of it appears on screen for a only a moment or two. This is a film that demands the viewer's undivided attention. Fortunately, that is rarely an issue, as the presentation is just so striking that I found it exceedingly difficult to look away from the screen for more than a second throughout the film's 87 minute runtime.
By virtue of it's content alone, EoE is not a film that everyone will enjoy. The opening scene, which I will not spoil here, sets the tone: utterly disturbing and bleak, perhaps even bordering on nihilistic. Within the first three minutes of the movie, we know that the main character Shinji, our supposed "hero," is a completely broken individual, having previously been forced to kill the only person who ever offered him unconditional love during events that occurred before the film begins. Soon after, we discover that many of the other character's rapidly deteriorating mental states have them heading in that same direction.
While the movie is certainly dark, it is by no means "dark for the sake of being dark." Nor does it glorify the violence it portrays. Characters die when they are shot or their bodies are broken, but there are no exploding piñatas of blood, and no gleeful squibs saturating the immediate area in red mist. If a character is shown dead or dying, odds are they are slumped in a corner, alone and helpless, with a pool of blood forming underneath them. This contributes to the film's emotional attachment to reality, and gives the film a sense of gripping realism, despite the relatively surreal plot.
Certain scenes evoke genuine discomfort, and can become quite difficult to watch. The best example of which portrays, Asuka, a 14 year old girl and another main character, who is suffering an existential crises, and is perhaps a single step away from suicide, before being placed inside of an Evangelion, one of the mechs for which the series is named, and sent underwater as part of a defensive measure. A special ops force is hunting her, and to that effect is dropping depth charges into the lake in an attempt to blow her apart. She realizes that she does, in fact, want to continue living, and begins chanting "I don't want to die" at first barely above a whisper, slowly, and I do mean slowly, rising into a chilling, almost feral scream. And if that wasn't bad enough, the scene is intercut with single frames of her face, decaying, worm ridden and utterly lifeless. This got to me. It will probably get to you too.
As a result of a major plot event, the final act of the movie is hyper-surrealistic. Visual imagery and metaphor abounds, a lot of which is obviously influenced by Judeo-Christian iconography. And although I suspect some of it to be a case of "yeah, that looks cool, let's put it in the movie," on the part of the director, this does nothing to detract from the images that do contain deeper meaning. A sequence which depicts a truly, existentially horrifying world-wide event is juxtaposed against a relatively up-beat song, further cementing the deep seated eeriness of the scene.
Despite the overall dark tone, EoE is optimistic at heart. Underneath its brutal exterior, there is no small amount of beauty. The imagery will stick with you, and I can almost guarantee you will leave with a multitude of images burned into your brain. The thematic elements of the film are overwhelmingly positive, despite the fact that they are for the most part presented in a pyrrhic manner. EoE is not afraid to make you think, and frequently brings up topics like existentialism, individuality, solipsism, the nature of existence and the point of life on earth. In a more literal sense of beauty, for a film released in 1997, the animation and art is refined and elegant. Honestly I can't recommend this film enough, but to restate, it isn't something you can just go into without the prior knowledge of the series. It's worth your time, I promise. And since this review is now far longer than I originally intended, I'll leave you know with a quote from the film that I believe displays the central message perfectly.
"All living creatures have the power to be brought back to life and the will to go on living. Anywhere can be paradise, as long as you have the will to live. After all, you are alive, so you will always have the chance to be happy. As long as the sun, the moon, and the earth exist, everything will be alright.”
