A Cruel Angel’s Burden: How Evangelion Navigates Family

The matter of family and what comprises one is inextricably baked into the foundations of Evangelion’s narrative. Shinji occupies the epicenter of the issue, his personal connections to his found family becoming the lens through which the series perceives his personal identity. The consequences of those relationships we will look at another day; first, we’re still investigating our characters’ evolving connections.

Last time, we saw our cast working together as a whole, and specifically Misato and Shinji overcoming and succumbing to the expectations of their fathers. Today, we’re looking at…

…Let me see here…ah yes…

Trauma.

Intro

Last video, we began our dissection of Evangelion’s third Act, taking a much closer look at the evolving relationships therein. Today, we’re diving right back in, investigating the dynamics of Ritsuko and Rei, along with our leading couples, and what Evangelion has to say about family through them. So buckle up: we’re jumping right in.

Episode 13: Lilliputian Hitcher

Not to be outdone by her colleague, while last episode focused on Misato, our favorite surrogate mother, our next chapter is all about Ritsuko “fun aunt” Agaki. So much so, in fact, our central three Children barely make an appearance, their inclusion relegated to a gag. But let’s not get ahead of ourselves.

The opening shot foreshadows everything, zooming out from an unfortunately cold coffee and landing on Ritsuko to indicate she’s been drugging herself to stay productive, which explains the super-fast clickity clack she shows off to Maya. We also see an unusual number of wires and tech trinkets scattered about, as if something’s been deconstructed, much like the Magi will be later, and you can even spot laptop number 25 down on the floor.

The Children arrive to commence a test instrumental in the creation of an autopilot system, which we’ll see four episodes later becomes the Dummy Plug.

Plugged in, the Children are—what is that. Okay, regroup: the simulation bodies are half-grown, cobbled together leftovers from early Evangelion prototypes that are missing a core, but they’re still vicariously connected to the real Evas to enable synchronization…I think? This is a weird episode, just accept it, I guess.

TV show just kinda TV shows for a minute, but once Unit-00’s A.T. field goes live, the eleventh Angel, Ireul, is on the move. The Lilliputian hitcher, so named after the microscopic people from Gulliver’s Travels and the fact it hitchhiked into NERV HQ by way of a wall panel—very similar, again, to The Andromeda Strain, which I’m starting to think Anno didn’t hate.

On top of that, all technical designations throughout this episode, like the Pribnow Box and the polysome drones, are a reference to natural mechanisms used in the management of RNA: fun little microbiology detail for you.

Things get out of hand, and Gendo cancels the red alert and immediately informs the Human Instrumentality Committee it’s a false alarm. Given that, along with the misidentification of…Matt as the eighth Angel, we can reasonably believe Gendo is actively obstructing information about the Angels from escaping NERV; one of the ways he maintains control of the organization and his own plans throughout the series. As HQ is shutting down, we see Kaji under Sigma Unit witnessing Ireul’s rampage. What’s he doing alone underneath Sigma unit? Well, given he, quote, “takes a break,” from his mission, it’s likely he’s again sabotaging NERV from within, just like Episode 11.

Actually, when you break it down, Episode 12 is kind of a weird insert episode between 11 and 13, given that Episode 11 sets up the Magi, the Angel misinformation, and Kaji’s sabotage, all of which we see progressed here.

As Ireul begins hacking into the Magi system, the two and half minute sequence of attempted blockade is some of the tensest coding in all of cinema (sorry, Hackers), and it’s all carried by human performance, with only nineteen shots of the screens, the rest simply showing expressions and reactions. It’s straightforward but effective filmmaking, and the voice acting really carries the scene.

During briefing, Misato and Ritsuko get heated, for the second time, and we see the cracks in the foundation of their relationship beginning to show. Afterwards, they hatch a plan to force the Angel into evolutionary self-destruction, and we get further insight into Ritsuko’s cardinal flaw: her own self-destructive tendencies and her inability to share responsibility and ask for help.

Then we see the full underbelly of the Magi, with all its twisting red pipes and wires, and let’s just be real, that’s a brain, in every sense of the word. Inside we see a multitude of notes, some on stickies, some right on the piping, from Ritsuko’s mother, Naoko; most of them are access codes, others…are not, and this begins to color the nature of Naoko, Ritsuko, and Gendo’s relationship. Breaking into the Magi is no easy feat, Ritsuko not only literally crawling into the mind of her mother, but needing to breach physical and electronic firewalls to access the organic brain within, much like accessing an Angels’ core.

Everyone has their personal demons, and Ritsuko’s is her mother.

Hijinks ensues, coding battle part II commences, and Ritsuko beats Ireul and aborts total destruction, signaling the only time in the series an Angel is defeated without the use of an Eva. After that, she certainly deserves a coffee—a warm one, this time. Why is that important? Because Misato takes Ritsuko’s cold cup earlier, signaling how Ritsuko can only give her a cold shoulder after Misato’s daring and brash strategy of the previous episode. Now that Ritsuko has succeeded at her own equally daring Angel clash, proving the two of them are more similar than not, they’re back on good terms, and Misato, instead of taking, gives a warmth to Ritsuko, a peace offering, gratefully received and happily enjoyed.

In overcoming Casper to overcome Ireul, Ritsuko has overcome her mother, a notion reinforced by the shot of the Magi sinking beneath her, bowing, as Ritsuko seems to rise above.

Naoko fell to her death at the Magi; Ritsuko flies from them with new life.

Episode 14: SEELE, The Throne of Souls

Ladies and gentlemen, we are officially halfway through our series, please give yourselves a round of applause for putting up with me this long. Thank you, thank you.

The first half of Episode 14 recaps the major battles of the series thus far. Although it released as scheduled only a week after 13, it aired at eight in the morning instead of its usual evening time, and was the first episode of 1996. Since half of the planned 26 episodes had elapsed, it served as a sort of soft start for fans coming into the new year. You’d think a rehashing of everything we’ve already seen would be boring, but Gainax somehow found a way to make the “previously on” segment more engaging than all of Michael Bay’s filmography.

Except for The Rock. That film slaps.

Utilizing various in-character reports and journal entries to not only further flesh out the world but establish deeper understanding of the speaking characters allows us to revisit and reassess how certain individuals have and are perceiving these incidents. It’s a simple but effective attention-grabber, especially given the lack of music and scant use of foley, made only more interesting by the fact that this entire segment is also an in-universe report given to SEELE by Gendo to explain in his own shadowy way what’s been going on, allowing him to paint these situations in a better than factual light to maintain control over NERV and undermine SEELE. Which is to say, this is a power struggle disguised as an intel report disguised as a flashback disguised as a documentary montage, and who gave Anno permission to write this well?

Also we learn the proper designations of every Angel according to the Dead Sea Scrolls, which is just an extra bit of juicy worldbuilding to top everything off.

With the reveal of the Human Instrumentality Committee and the SEELE (which are NOT the same group, in case you were confused), Gendo denies Ireul’s intrusion and yada yada cut to second title screen, which says “Weaving a Story,” because “Lies and Silence” was too obvious, am I right?

[…What do you mean that’s the next episode’s title? Yeah but I didn’t—you know what, we’re moving on.]

So, I’ve been told, uh, by myself, that before we continue I am legally required to let you know that what we’re about to cover next is intensely Evangelion. That is to say, this is all about to get somewhat confusing, and I apologize in advance if I fall short of explaining everything adequately.

Let’s be real though, this is what you’re here for.

Launched right into a purposefully ambiguous Evangelion-induced fever dream, Rei narrates her thoughts and emotions while experiencing familiar stimuli in our first real dive into Evangelion’s notorious philosophical discussions. After two minutes, we learn this is all during an interoperability test where Rei is within Unit-01, so it stands to reason what she’s experiencing are residual thoughts and feelings of Shinji’s, especially since these first four shots, and then the sunflowers, are identical to the establishing shots of Episode 4, when Shinji ran away. She claims to enjoy the water, something we know from her swimming in Episode 10, and she offhandedly says Gendo, possibly because Gendo and water are two of the few things she finds comfort in. We also know that Shinji doesn’t like water or swimming, so we can confirm Rei is thinking her own thoughts, investigating herself, not Shinji. All observations here are her own.

Like the red sky, which gets really meta as she claims to hate the color red, a clear subtextual dig at Asuka, but also possibly a demonstration of awareness that red represents pain, which she is equally not a fan of. If that’s the case, it’s the first instance of a character picking up on the visual cues we as the audience have been using to represent themes, and you have to wonder how diegetic the thematic cues of the series are, and who else picks up on them.

Red and water naturally lead to thoughts of blood, which she not only thinks about but claims to smell, and here her thoughts fractalize into abstractions of philosophy, theology, and the dynamic interrelationship of God, pain, and the self, all this touched on within 45 seconds!

Here’s a weird observation: there’s an insert shot of Shinji looking at his hand with Rei’s blood—literally the same cell as Episode 1—only Rei’s body is missing from the background, meaning it’s not the same shot, it’s being filtered through Rei’s perception of Shinji’s memory. Why? Don’t know, keep up.

Her thoughts turn inward as she seeks to define human, and then define herself, but this is complicated by the fact that she’s not the first Rei to exist, as hinted at with the famous Infinity Rei shot where she endlessly repeats, verbally and visually, “Who am I?” to another sky of red. Seeking to isolate her current self, we see a single Rei, upside down, in yet another red sky, very reminiscent of the Floating Rei shot that ends every episode. Did I mention the moon? Or her left eye, which traditionally represents the moon? You know what, we’ve already touched on that.

She waxes poetic for a moment in philosophic jargon that basically amounts to “I think, therefore I am,” accompanied with the realization that she is more than a body, and given the Episode’s first title and her earlier comment about Seele, the throne of the soul, we can deduce she’s searching to define her soul: again, a very unique dilemma given her status as an Angel-born Lilin. Eventually Rei says she cannot isolate and define her soul, and in fact feels her body melting away—an identical description to Shinji’s Episode 25 observation of Instrumentality. Ultimately what we can garner from this is Rei coming to the realization that her soul cannot be defined in a vacuum given its inherent nature as a thing connected to her body, her memories, and other human beings, the last conundrum of which is amplified by her being within the Eva and therefore bound to the essences of both Yui and Shinji. She then recognizes this and singles out her relationships in the order of people she feels closest to, starting with Shinji, the one most like her; Misato, the woman most like a mother and therefore most like Yui; Ritsuko, one of the only people who knows her secret status as Angel-born and is also a mother figure; her friends, classmates, and Asuka. But when she finally focuses on Gendo, the last of them, we don’t see him, only the cracked glasses, indicating for the first time that Rei has a real emotional connection with everyone else, even Asuka, but not a true connection with Gendo, simply an adherence to his flawed ideals. She searches all these relationships for an intensional definition as to who she is—much like Shinji—but arrives instead at the memory of Eva Unit-01 going berserk, and Shinji’s revelation as to his own viciousness. Out of everything just witnessed, it’s this insight into Shinji’s brutality and the true nature of the Evas that ends up yanking her from the fever dream—this shot literally her mother and herself looking back at her—and Rei regains clarity within the entry plug after two minutes of the most intense Aphex Twin visual adaptation I’ve ever seen.

This is where we see she’s been in Unit-01 the whole time, and she comments on the scent again, saying the interior smells like Shinji.

Outside, Ritsuko mentions how similar Units 00 and 01 are, which is what enables this test any amount of success. We get a brief, ominous close-up of Misato listening to this, indicating she’s making a mental note of that similarity and what that implies about Shinji and Rei’s relationship to each other and the Evas. And the following shot is from her perspective as she fixates on Ritsuko.

A few minutes later, with Shinji in Unit-00, he also remarks on the scent, saying it smells like Rei. As he attempts to synch, Asuka chides him over comms and explicitly compares Unit-01 to a mother, an ironic and possibly Freudian slip indicating she feels excluded and is craving her own maternal connection in this moment; more than that, though, it’s a direct callout to the fact we’ll learn later that Unit-01 is literally Shinji’s mother, and when he’s within her, it’s akin to his resting in her womb.

But that’s beside the point because did anybody else notice Shinji’s supposedly in his plug suit when he reaches up with his bare hand? Just me?

He’s immediately bombarded with residuals of Rei’s pain, as shown by, you guessed it, the red backgrounds framing memories of her. This on its own, feeling an entire lifetime of pain, would be enough to drive anyone crazy, but then we get an indication in the form of a charging, psychotic Rei that Unit-00 has rejected him.

This incompatibility causes the Eva to go berserk in much the same way we saw back in Episode 5; in fact, Gainax just reused the animation plates, recolored to match continuity save the final head-bashing shot. As with most things Evangelion, this is both a cost cutting measure, yes, but also an additional layer of narrative, as the similarities of the instances can be attributed to Unit-00 aiming to breach the viewing box, a recurring action we’ve seen three times now: in Episodes 5, 13, and here. Misato thinks it’s after Rei, but Ritsuko is convinced it’s after her: a conclusion we’re meant to share in given our knowledge of Ritsuko’s inner circle status with Gendo, and the fact that in every instance of Unit-00’s uncontrollability, Ritsuko is always present.

Why does Unit-00 want Ritsuko? That, along with the numerous details I glossed over, is a discussion for another day, but don’t worry, we’ll get to it.

Shinji awakens in the hospital with amnesia for the second time following a berserk Eva, but unlike his previous confusion, he settles in piecing together what’s occurred, Rei’s madness seeming to leave no permanent damage.

A bit of plot and the reveal that Gendo and Fuyutsuki are in fact undermining SEELE, plus a proper look at the Spear of Longinus, and the episode leaves us with the undoubtable feeling that the game of lies is only just beginning.

Episode 15: Lies and Silence

Everything is connected.

Three words Gendo articulates as our politically charged opening transitions to Kaji, a man going out of his way to turn up stones for his own benefit, and then to Asuka, his young, enamored fangirl. While their relationship has always been clearly one-sided, we begin seeing their inevitable breakaway as Asuka grows more impatient with his absence.

Alongside this, we see the lakes that’ve been formed from the destruction of the Angels, likely the deaths of Israfel and Sahaquiel, another reminder, like the previous corpses, that this series takes consequences seriously.

In the classroom, we see Shinji and Rei’s first encounter since the interoperability test, and he’s seeing her in a new light, observing her motions with insightfulness likely granted by his time in Unit-00. During their next test, he’s clearly focused on her, and his recent experience, coupled with the upcoming anniversary of his mother’s death, has him seeing hints of motherliness in Rei. On the elevator, Shinji asks Rei about Gendo, flashing back to some very close-up, reddened frames of their discussion he observed in Episode 5. At this point, however, it’s obvious Rei is reevaluating her relationship with Gendo. The interoperability test placed him as the most emotionally distant in her mind, and when she answers Shinji saying she doesn’t know his father well, she’s entirely genuine.

Back home, Asuka is curious about Shinji and Gendo’s relationship, and Misato intones it’d be easier if Shinji just hated him, but the issue is that both Gendo and Shinji are simply inept at communicating their feelings. In Shinji’s recently reconfigured room, he’s framed upside down on the left, staring at his familiar ceiling while reddened memories replay in his head. The first two memories are from the opening chapter of the series, but the last two are recent, from Episodes 11 and 12, when Gendo professed faith in his son’s abilities and commended him for his actions. Even these, though, are red, indicating Shinji’s mixed feelings.

During Misato’s encouragement where, much like Episode 2, she’s framed in green, Shinji’s turned away from her and still on the left. Except for this shot where, again, they’re both in frame, deepening their personal connection. Afterwards, he flops over onto his chest, turning away and distancing himself from the camera to close the audience off, but now framed upright on the right side of the screen, a literal turnaround foreshadowing his resolution to do the brave thing despite his fear.

The graveyard is frighteningly vast, and our first shot of the Ikaris pans from Gendo, looking down on Shinji, to Shinji himself on the other side of the gravestone, indicating how Yui’s death is a barrier between them. When Shinji rises, however, the Dutch angle and following shot of the shadows has Shinji above Gendo, literally rising to his level to meet him where he’s at. Despite the tender connection, Gendo turns away, leaving the two unable to fully mend their bond. At the sight of Rei aboard Gendo’s carrier, though, Shinji makes a final attempt at connection, admitting his gladness over their meeting, and now it’s Gendo’s turn to reciprocate, admitting he feels the same. It’s the first use of the concept of motherhood prompting Shinji to find inner strength, and another genuine connection between father and son.

Back home, Shinji plays the cello, the first time in the series he does something exceptional for himself, indicating an air of peace he’s achieved by successfully bonding with Gendo. He’s playing Bach, by the way: Cello Suite No. 1 in G Major. Very catchy. Asuka arrives, dressed in green, and makes sincere small talk with Shinji, even applauding him for his perseverance to learn the cello. It’s another very welcome and characteristically developing point of politeness from her. Maybe she likes him or something. Huh? Hmm?

The bar scene is delightfully fraught with insightful moments, from Kaji mentioning he and Misato wanting to “play house” (remember that phrase, it’ll be important), to his gifting Ritsuko a cat themed trinket. Ritsuko appreciates his honesty, but warns him against lying when he denies being in Kyoto. How does Ritsuko identify the cat trinket and where it came from? Another discussion we’ll cover another day, as Misato’s drunken return requires a swift escape back to her apartment. Not before we get these shots though, both creative, mature, and incredibly grounded, as if from the perspective of onlookers, not an omnipotent camera. It reminds me of the cityscape sequence halfway through Ghost in Shell, another collage of practically angled shots lending the series a sense of realism.

Then we have this scene, which is just…it’s untouchable. I’ll only say that Misato, who repeatedly professes to hate her father, fell in love with Kaji, who’s just like him. As a good man, though, you have to wonder how horrible Doctor Katsuragi actually was, and the very real possibility that Misato does, in fact, love and miss her father more than she hates him, which makes her previous statement about Shinji and Gendo’s relationship somewhat hypocritical. Kaji is there to console her, the whole situation wrapped in a rare display of beautiful honesty.

This scene, however, oh-ho, this is…I don’t know what to make of this. Immediately cutting from Kaji and Misato kissing, Asuka suggests a kiss with Shinji, and she uses the legitimately worst pickup line in the entirety of romance to goad him into it.

Shinji does rise to the occasion, and he and Asuka escalate their personal relationship, which is about to heavily influence Shinji’s perspective of her as the only non-maternal feminine relationship in his life. It’s even more impactful, however, for Asuka. The whole kiss is somehow entirely silly and entirely serious, like most first kisses, as played off with Pen-Pen’s gag. How you interpret the fallout of this, however, can depend on the dub you watched. In the ADV dub, Asuka has this exasperated sigh of disgust, cartoonishly averse to what just happened. In the original Japanese and VSI tracks, however, she has this pant of anger and embarrassment, an instant regret, not to the action itself, but to her mistake in initiating it. She knows, and Shinji now suspects, it was a ploy for attention, since, as we saw earlier, she’s feeling neglected, especially romantically, because of Kaji’s absence. Shinji is the only person she trusts to be vulnerable with, if only for a moment.

Speaking of, our leading couples finally intersect, and after dropping Misato off, Ryoji ignores Asuka’s pleas to stay and brushes her off. It’s now gone from passive absence to active avoidance, and as the camera fixates on her, cutting Kaji’s head out of frame (because he’s disappearing from her picture), we see the impact this has on her, the realization that she’s falling out of favor with him as she smells Misato’s lavender perfume.

A brief reminder that Misato withheld the lavender from Asuka, not because it was expensive or uncommon, but because she said it was only for adults. Smelling it here isn’t just a sign that Kaji’s romantically interested in someone else; it’s a reminder to Asuka that she’s still being treated as a child, locked out of the adult world she’s trying so hard to infiltrate.

The day after, we’re teased Rei’s pod at NERV HQ at the same time Kaji and Misato sneak into Terminal Dogma. There, we get the reveal that Kaji is not a double but the rare triple agent, finally found out by Misato who’s willing to make peace with his deception given hers. He explains his mission by revealing the Angel trapped beneath NERV, speared on the weapon of Longinus we saw Rei wielding previously.

Quick point of clarification here, Kaji and Misato both identify this Angel as the first, Adam, and since it’s been several weeks since Kaji delivered the embryo to Gendo, he has no reason to assume Gendo hasn’t grown it into the goliath we see on the cross here. They are both, however, wrong, as this is not Adam but Lilith, the Second Angel, kept secret by Gendo and NERV from everyone else, including from SEELE. We’ll figure out how we figure that out later.

Regardless of its true identity, its reveal opens up a whole new can of worms, and leaves us wondering what in the world happens next.

From working together to manipulating one another, the entirety of Evangelion’s third Act is precedented on relationships. They’re how Shinji finds purpose, how Rei understands herself, how Asuka closes in on her true desires. How Misato works to free herself while Kaji works to be further embedded, and how Ritsuko struggles to overcome the consequences of her actions. Everyone is dealing with the fallout of their personal families while working to be a family together.

But anyone can be deconstructed once they’re alone.

And that is a video for another day.

Thank you so much for watching! I had a ton of fun bringing this video together; thank you to everyone who helped in its creation, and thanks to all of you for the continued support. I told you this video would be out sooner than the last: I got momentum and so help me I’m not losing it. Working on the next script now, along with some non-Evangelion content and some fun community events which you can stay up to date on by joining us on Discord and subscribing.

Until then, I’ve been Jir0, y’all have been amazing, and I’ll see you all soon.

God bless ya.