Below is the original script for my video discussing Neon Genesis Evangelion’s editing and presentation throughout the first half of its second act, titled “Understanding Rei (And Misato) In Evangelion’s Second Act,” at the time of recording. This was a sequel to my previous video on the subject, “Analyzing Evangelion’s Perfect First Act“

Understanding Love and Anime Action in Evangelion’s Second Act

Previously, we’ve discussed Evangelion’s first act, episodes one through four and how they outline Shinji’s personal decision to pilot his Eva. Heavy focus on Misato, Kensuke, and Toji cemented them as Shinji’s inner circle of most trusted companions, but following the train station standoff, Act II begins taking ground as we explore the other connections, relationships, and necessities for growth as Shinji properly begins his journey into selfhood.

And those additions couldn’t be any more extreme.

[Intro]

Like Act I, Act II of Evangelion covers three chapters, this time over the course of six episodes. Each chapter focuses on a character and their relationship to Shinji, the varying aspects of love they impart on him throughout their time together. Specifically, we’re looking on the big three: Rei Ayanami, Misato Katsuragi, and Asuka Langley Soryu.

Like Act I, our first chapter is two episodes, the aptly named Rei I and Rei II.

Episode seven is a further breakdown and development of Shinji and Misato’s relationship, which I admittedly tend to overlook despite its criticality to the plot.

And finally, episodes eight through ten are the final chapter, and arguably our first three-parter of the series, all focused on establishing and dissecting the one and only, the brashest and most extreme deep sea fishing enthusiast, the exotic firecracker herself: Asuka Langley Soryu.

Whereas the entirety of Act I is an intensional definition of Shinji as a character; Act II separates itself by expanding to extensional definitions, specifically ostensive definitions, wherein we learn more about Shinji by comparing him to others, and in the process define the Others that are soon to route so much of his self-identification and progression. Every major theme of the series follows from this dynamic, from identity, to comparability, to relationship.

And their introduction to our narrative is exquisite. Without further ado…

Act II: Relationship

It’s difficult to talk about any of these episodes on an individual basis, as their hyperlinked nature forces you, especially as a veteran viewer, to pull from other experiences in the series to get a complete picture of what’s occurring; and yes, this issue only becomes more severe as the series progresses. Episodes 5 and 6, titled Rei, Beyond the Heart and Decisive Battle in Tokyo, respectively, have the English titles Rei I and Rei II, the first coming to an abrupt cliffhanger and leaving the second to continue its narrative and themes.

We’ve already witnessed a very similar albeit more complete version of this episode structure in the opening Chapter of the series, Apostle Approach and Unfamiliar Ceiling, but here everything is backwards. Our flashback begins the first episode instead of concluding the second, showcasing the experiment which wounded Rei and Gendo. There’s a lot to unpack in this sequence, and several others have already broken it down beautifully, so I want to highlight the major motif we see introduced here: Gendo’s glasses.

The very literal apparatus through which he sees the world, Gendo loses his glasses while rescuing Rei and they crack due to the overheated LCL fluid, symbolizing how love is blind and Gendo often loses sight of himself and his own wellbeing when it comes to the one he loves (or ones, depending on how you count things). Furthermore, his glasses, like his perspective, become warped by the experiment he’s working on. Like I’ve said, subtly is a wonderful thing and it is not present here.

Also, while we’re on the topic, shoutout to commenter Michael Moceri who pointed out how Gendo’s glasses are often framed with a red reflection, implying he only views the world through his pain. Good catch.

I’d be remiss if I didn’t point out this reaction shot of Ritsuko staring in disbelief at Gendo’s display of selflessness as he rescues Rei, a heroism he’s unwilling to display for anyone else, even her.

After our title card, we’re treated to a variety of clever scene transitions, from the currently immobilized Unit 00 to the outline of the previously pinned down Unit 01, which brings us to the warehouse where NERV is surveying Shamshel’s corpse. This is our first Angel corpse, and its presence helps reassure us as viewers that the series is serious and aware of consequences. The literal remains of Shamshel—and every Angel to follow—connects the present to the past, linking every episode to one before and streamlining the narrative timeline. Especially when these episodes were airing weekly, the importance of wordlessly reminding audiences of the struggles that came before helped contextualize the struggles of the current episode. When viewing the narrative timeline through that lens, it’s even more apparent how Episode 4 stands out since it acts as a barrier between Shamshel’s defeat and his analysis, although credit where it’s due to the post-op scene which helps maintain the battle’s significance until Episode 5’s proper follow-up action.

The 601-error code is a reference to the The Andromeda Strain…. That is a note I forgot the delete, uh…where was I…Uh, play the intro I forgot while I search, please.

Intro

There we go. Oh right, here we are.

In typically brilliant writing fashion, not only is the information of the opening scene conveyed to Shinji, but his demeanor throughout grants us deeper insight into his character, what with Misato pointing out his veiled need for attention by way of inaction. Ritsuko mentions how Gendo burned his hands, and another transition brings us straight to water, a jarring juxtaposition of concepts letting us know we’re somewhere else entirely now.

And not just spatially, as instead of going off and focusing on Gendo, Shinji is curious about Rei. Also it’s nice to see Aida and Suzuhara acting like normal friends for the first time.

We get one of my favorite scenes next, only about forty seconds of meaningless background dialogue as Shinji spies on Gendo and Rei conversing before a test. Their mutual smiles don’t anger Shinji, just bewilder him, which demonstrates his inexperience with love, as he’s not frustrated with Gendo’s misdirection of affection, just totally confused by it.

Shinji gets side-quested into giving Rei her updated security card, and the visual storytelling for the opening of this scene is immaculate, telling us everything we need to know about Rei based on her—well, Toji puts it best: “Spartan” apartment setup. The emphasis on Gendo’s glasses which Rei kept despite their ruined condition highlights Rei’s attachment to Gendo’s ideals, how she shares his perspective despite the cracks in it. Shinji tries the glasses on, and Rei, unclothed, removes them. Interpret that how you will. This segways into the reverse grope trope—grope trope, that’s…wow, yeah—others have already dissected this, but the important thing is Rei doesn’t care about this interaction. She doesn’t care about Shinji. In fact, she completely ignores him until inside NERV headquarters, at which point she finally slaps him for doubting his father’s methods, something he has all the right to do.

Also, immediately after getting off her, Shinji has this little flex of his left hand: that might be important later, so remember it.

Rei brings Gendo’s glasses aboard Unit-00 during the reactivation trial, which proves successful this time due to the strength and resolve Gendo imparted on her. Without the failure of the previous test which drew out Gendo’s love for her, Rei wouldn’t have passed this one.

The successful test concludes Rei’s first arc, which is the proof of her faith in Gendo, and this is extremely important to the episode’s structure. Since we end with a cliffhanger, this resolution with Rei, however small it is, lets us know a character has accomplished their goal of the episode, so we don’t feel jaded or as if the episode is pure setup when the abrupt ending arrives.

Speaking of arrival, fifth Angel Ramiel shows up then (love this guy, he creeps me out so much), and Shinji is sent to intercept. But hold on. Remember how every Angel encounter is representative of the personal challenges Shinji faces? Yeah, this one is Shinji’s jealousy of Gendo and Rei’s relationship, and seeing as he isn’t over that—

[Shinji is hit]

Ramiel blows through the façade of Shinji’s indifference to hit him in the heart (maybe even beyond the heart), and not only does he feel everything because he’s wired up, but the heat is enough to boil the LCL liquid while he’s still in it—much like Rei when ejected from Unit-00.

Now then…part two.

Episode 6: Rei II: Decisive Battle of Tokyo

Brought back to headquarters, Shinji needs his heart restarted by others while he’s in the red. I don’t mean just mean that literally. He’s rushed to the infirmary as Ramiel begins its burrowing, and I just want to call special attention to this shot of Misato staring at the door, this sort of blend of compositions from their two major encounters of Episode 4.

Plot, plot, more plot…. Hey, that’s quite a shot (screens through Gendo’s glasses). More plot, this downright beautiful transition (Misato from office to escalator), and we get some clever worldbuilding. Going to the SSDF outlines where Evangelion’s world is, technologically speaking, and how every major world government has poured more money than they can print into war tech R&D, which obviously pays off with the creation of the Evas and this gun in particular which Rei is just gonna, just gonna yoink for a quick second. The upward shot of Misato frames the upper half of the screen in negative space, giving you a subconscious note to look out for what’s about to appear there.

[Rei lifts ceiling]

There she is. Also I think this is the first time Misato has her uniform zipped up properly. Normally she keeps it loose, like Gendo, implying she doesn’t take her role as seriously as she should, but when put in charge of her own operations she’s more than willing to play the part of the proper leader. This type of shot is reused throughout the following montage, as if trying to see Ramiel through the ceiling, maintaining a constant tension as time ticks away.

Sidenote, “Panosonic.”

More plot, some more world-building Ghost in the Shell style, referring to different sections of the organization, and just shy of ten minutes in we cut back to Shinji. Ritsuko mentions he may not pilot again, but Misato continues, confident—or at least hoping—Shinji is strong enough.

He doesn’t think so, though. Rei comes to brief him, and Shinji admits he wants to abandon the operation. Roles are reversed here, as Shinji is now the one who’s naked, physically and emotionally, as he opens up to her. I can’t help but think Rei’s indifference to Shinji’s plight is exactly what he needs at this moment, as, very much like their previous scene in the hospital, she doesn’t give him an ounce of pity, shutting down any outside influence and forcing him, again, to choose for himself whether or not to pilot.

It isn’t until after the second title card when both Evangelion’s emerge that we realize he’s agreed.

Misato codenames the operation Yashima, a reference to the Japanese Battle of Yashima in 1185 in which Minamoto warrior Nasu no Yoichi shot a fan from the top of an enemy ship’s mast, displaying expert archery precision and demoralizing his foes. The connection to Shinji’s necessitated precision is obvious, and Yashima can be rewritten into the old name for Japan, another reference to the operation gathering the country’s electrical power.

Moments before they plug in, Shinji and Rei have a brief—well, what I guess you would call a heart to heart. The first half of the conversation is while they suit up, when Rei assures Shinji, she’ll protect him in much the same way he defended her during Unit-01’s maiden sortie. The second is on the catwalks, where, aside from the establishing shot, the two are never framed entirely together, each silhouetted against their Eva—and Rei against the moon—before she wishes Shinji farewell and they board.

Rei and the moon are, of course, a recurring motif; appearing in the opening credits, this shot is the first of many drawing obvious connection between the two. There’s a plethora of interpretations rooted in everything from astrology to reproduction, several of which I’m sure to touch on later, but for now the biggest implication is that Rei is the reflection of something otherworldly. Beautiful, but waning, and not entirely human. We’ll unpack more, but first we have to survive the Angel.

The ensuing battle never reaches the heights Hideaki Anno wanted, as time and technology constraints forced Gainax to make this more of a straightforward shootout as opposed to an evolving duel. Still, the tension is palpable as Shinji misses his first shot and Rei steps in to defend him, making good on her promise to keep him alive. And like his last battle, once Rei’s life is in danger, Shinji doubles down and annihilates the threat, turning Ramiel into the weirdest donut I never want to eat.

Yanking her from the wreckage, Shinji endeavoring to break through Rei’s steely exterior and open the entry plug is a familiar sight, and the parrel between him and Gendo is only strengthened with this half-second shot, when Rei begins to associate Shinji with Gendo’s positivity. What’s more, I always assumed Gendo’s smile here was when he saved her from the entry plug, but that can’t be as he’s wearing his glasses. The only other scene in which he’s smiling is before the Eva test when Shinji is eavesdropping, so the very interaction Shinji was jealous of and bewildered by is the one Rei refers to when associating Shinji with Gendo’s goodness. The irony is not lost on me.

The following wide pan angles up to the full moon again, and we end the episode on good terms.

I’m going to point out that Shinji doesn’t overcome the Angel or his jealousy of Rei and Gendo’s relationship without Rei’s help; and while Gendo, the father, runs NERV and oversees the mission, the operation itself is manufactured and run by Misato, the mother.

Shinji’s strength is again brought out by his need to defend others, and Rei’s particular coldness means Shinji can’t use her like an emotional bounce board: he’s got to figure things out and decide on his own. Just goes to show the real message of this opening chapter: Nothing makes an introvert an extrovert like an introvert who’s more introverted.

But I suppose they’re only human.

Episode 7: A Human Work

So, this episode is just brilliant all the way around. Mostly worldbuilding, which is boring. Unless you’re like me, and you find it absolutely enthralling. Evangelion takes the best approach, of course, and focuses on the fact that worldbuilding is character building. Surroundings are a mirror reflecting who someone is; the world is just a mirror that remembers.

The opening shot gives us a healthy dose of foreshadowing, not just with the secret photos of the Jet Alone, but with Kaji’s voice over the phone, foreshadowing his character, his attitude, and his job, all before we see his face.

We get our title card, and the first proper scene showcases Shinji and Misato going head-to-head with snappy dialogue over breakfast. Last episode we saw his compassion and strength displayed during a high-pressure situation, and now we see his sarcasm and independence in a low-pressure situation, demonstrating how the events he’s been through thus far are shaping him into a more rounded person.

Misato notes Shinji’s sarcasm, delighting in his outgoing development, and the scene bookends itself with the same toaster shot that led us in.

Our next shot—whoa, whoa, WHOA, that is…technically a public autopsy. For real, Ramiel’s deconstruction helps with the aforementioned streamlining of the narrative, and I mean…what a visual. The rest of the sequence is pretty cool too, highlighting Misato’s casualness with a peace sign even while she’s all dressed up. Shinji is not impressed, so Kensuke and Toji let him know they’ll take her—I mean take it from here.

All right, this next scene is what I’m talking about. Aida and Suzuhara’s comments about keeping Misato safe segway us into Shinji’s thoughts on the Evangelions and their purpose as defensive weaponry, both a thought that could be applied to Unit-00 and Rei previously, and the upcoming stalemate against the JA. Furthermore, Shinji has a flashback to his first sortie and the Eva’s eye, which is still green despite the surrounding imagery now a dull orange, like the LCL fluid he also mentions. The scene recolor tells me Shinji thinks about this event differently than when he first experienced it, and seeing as it isn’t red, we can assume he’s learning and growing from the experience, not letting it strangle him.

More clever transitions and worldbuilding, and we learn about Adam in the Antarctic and the Second Impact’s cover up. Please note how we cut to Misato when Ritsuko mentions an “unexplained explosion,” inferring she knows or is more intimately familiar with the Second Impact in some way. We’ll learn later, of course, that her father led the Antarctic expedition, and one has to wonder how she feels about the truth being obscured like this, or how she feels being the sole survivor. This gust of wind from the opening doors also causes Misato to wince, implying the situation or recalling her past makes her uncomfortable in much the same way Shinji’s future made him back in Episode 2.

Just before our mid-title, our opening morning routine sequence is interrupted by Misato in formal wear, so out of character compared to most mornings that even the music of this scene stops once she enters. As we saw in the previous episode, Misato tends to take her job seriously when it’s fun, but here the absence of a smile implies she’s not looking forward to her duties.

At the JA demonstration, we see everybody has arrived by helicopter, so we know the area is remote and probably inaccessible to land vehicles. This would make a great mecha battlefield, am I right?

Also, is that McDonald’s beer? I’m getting off track.

Ritsuko is clearly the aggravated individual here, which is why in the dressing room it’s funny to see Misato getting just as worked up in private. Demonstrates how the two deal with the same situation in different ways. Also, at the mention of the intelligence department failing at their job, we could’ve just cut the scene here and gone to the startup of the JA. Instead, we get an insert closeup on Ritsuko, then an implication shot of the JA’s internal reactor. Specifically, someone accesses the reactor’s safeguard—see how the status analyzer is in slave mode and the virus protection protocol is green—and deletes that portion of code.

The operation’s director says everyone is safe, but the music says otherwise, and given the sabotage we just witnessed, the tension here is palpable. Misato’s comment:

Misato: “Hey, they built something that can walk. I suppose that’s something to brag about.”

—again elicits a closeup of Ritsuko unable to look at the JA. We assume at first this glance is an understanding of the inevitable competition this pits against the Evas, but hindsight reveals it might be the guilt of subterfuge.

You know the rest. JA goes berserk like the Eva they were complaining about, and it’d take a miracle for the thing to shut itself down. Fortunately, Misato has a thing for miracles. The camera cuts the line to give us this shot, which I love, and mimics the left-to-right framing we’ve talked about previously to imply Misato is in the right here.

Okay, you know, this is probably a good time to bring up the Angel in the room. On both of my previous Edit of Evangelion videos, I’ve had dozens of comments saying something along the lines of “The concept of the left symbolizing good and right symbolizing evil correlating to lateral direction is a strictly western idea that emerged from visual linguistics and doesn’t translate to traditional oriental writing styles.” And yes, I expected this kind of backlash. So I came prepared.

Here’s the thing: there are only two ways to interpret lateral direction in anime, this show specifically, and that’s intentional and interpretive.

Firstly, the idea that the use of lateral direction to convey hostile or amicable intent was intentional by Anno and Gainax. You see, while traditional Japanese is written right to left and up to down in tategaki style—you know, the Japanese script we see as so iconic—since the American occupation in the 40’s, the Japanese educational system has reformed the writing system into yokogaki—horizontal writing much like English—which is now widely standardized throughout the country. So yes, by the time Evangelion released, the concept of lateral progression in relation to written language had already been revised in Japan for fifty years.

Add onto this that American cinema and all the filmmaking techniques that came with it heavily pervaded Japan in the 80’s and early 90’s. Movies like Mad Max, Blade Runner, and The Magnificent Seven had a huge impact on anime like Fist of the North Star, Ghost in the Shell, and Lupin III. Evangelion released during this boom in American cinema’s influence in the industry, and Anno and others at the studio were well aware of western cinema and the techniques it employed, not just enabling but encouraging them to use those same techniques while crafting their narrative.

Of course, there is the second option to all of this, that being I’m wrong, and this is all purely interpretive. I’m willing to accept if this is the case—anime historians, let me know if I am—I’m here to learn, not prove a point. Perhaps everything I’ve outlined and discovered is a total coincidence.

Thing is, even if the lateral direction was unintentional, the interpretation remains valid. I view this anime through an American lens, and the psycho-emotional concepts conveyed scene to scene are consistent as well as logical. The Angels almost always attack from the east, from the right, where western cinematographic techniques almost always place the bad guy. Just like this scene in Whiplash (diner conversation); this one in Inception (opening table interrogation); heck, even Megamind (date night)—all of these trained our sense of placement and take place over a meal, I just realized…I think I’m hungry—Regardless, if so, it’s all an example of audience theory to the nth degree.

Luckily, there is a compromise to help us avoid this unique impasse. Along with the challenging comments, a few people pointed out Japanese media’s tendency to organize action laterally. This is especially apparent in manga, where starting at the right and flowing to the left builds a sense of momentum, and this translated to anime by having the instigator, regardless of intent, begin on frame right. And as I rewatched Evangelion, and other anime, with this in mind, everything began making a lot of sense. Like a lot a lot.

The Angels typically approach from the right, not just because they’re evil, but because they’re the protagonists. Obstacles and antagonists, like NERV, stand at the left. And this dynamic reverses whenever the Evangelions take the offensive. When Shinji first pilots against Sachiel, when he goes overboard on Shamshel, and when he and Rei coordinate to attack Ramiel—in every instance, the Evangelion’s approach from the right. Even outside of combat, with Shinji choosing to move in with Misato way back in Episode 2, he steps into her apartment from the right—it’s an active decision he makes of his own free will.

Now I’m not well versed in traditional Japanese narrative techniques, so I won’t dig any deeper than I’m qualified to—if anyone knows more or can corroborate this perspective, please help—but this shift in my own mindset has me wondering if there’s any definitive takeaway or if I should simply glean what I can and let you decide for yourself. Let me know what you think.

And before I lose track again, let’s get back to the show.

I’m pretty sure this is a reused animation plate from Episode 1 (phone pickup), where other non-NERV weaponry proved similarly useless during a crisis. Misato gets ready to board the JA personally, and Ritsuko tells her the operation is futile. Not because she cares for her headstrong friend, but because—oh I don’t know, maybe she knows the JA isn’t a threat worthy of interference for some reason?

I absolutely love the design of Misato’s suit, just a sidenote; and her and Shinji are next framed within a frame onboard the Eva carrier. Shinji’s selfless concern for Misato’s safety proves he’s warming up to her, even if she is a slob at home. A little manufactured danger just so she can flash another peace sign, and Misato gets inside and shuts everything down. Well, she doesn’t, but she almost did. Ritsuko, of course, calls her a fool for interfering while Shinji applauds her for pulling off a miracle. A miracle Misato knows was orchestrated, and so begins her doubts as to NERV’s methods. This moment sows the seeds for her mistrust, which we see proved worthwhile when, in Gendo’s office, Ritsuko reports the tampering with the JA went according to—oh-h-h-h, so she was involved, ah…did not see that coming.

This final scene wraps everything up in a competent adherence to the rule of threes I still can’t fully comprehend. So, to start, it plays out the same sequence we’ve seen twice already with the toaster. The first shot set the precedent, the second displayed a breakup in the routine, and the third brings up back to the beginning but with a transformation having occurred. Misato swigging from the beer can is a reference to the beginning of the episode, but also to Episode 2 where we’re first introduce to her sloppiness. So in essence, whatever happens here reflects on all past and present feelings related to Misato’s demeanor. At first, Shinji remains unimpressed—if anything, he’s more unimpressed that Misato would go through something so harrowing and not change as a result in the way he’s changed through struggle. Aida and Suzuhara, though, ever the best friends, point out the flaw in Shinji’s perspective. The second morning routine we see shows Misato prim and proper, and unhappy, whereas the first and third display her sloppy and enjoying herself around Shinji. The important part of Shinji’s revelation is that Misato is real with him, and that’s he’s willing to accept that she’s real with him, which gives the both of them freedom to further develop and structure their relationship. They’re able to connect on a deeper level.

So, Shinji is now comfortable—dare I say confident—around his friends, his mother figure, and even his love interest, Rei. All that’s left is to address his relationship with Gendo, and we can resolve the show’s central emotional conflicts and wrap everything up nice and clean.

Pretty straight forward, all things consider—Oh shi—

And with that, we’re out of time! A travesty, I know; we’re all eager to get to the introduction of you-know-who, but she’ll have to wait. Seriously, I wrote the entire script for this act and it ended up twice as long as the previous video, so in the spirit of not subjecting myself to the edit of an hour long analysis, I will be covering this act in two parts. I promise, next video is all about Asuka, and if you’d like to see that video early when it’s ready to release, you can become a channel member!

Because apparently that’s a thing.

Yes, channel memberships are fully up and running, and those who join get early access to future videos, behind the scenes content, priority reply to comments, and a host of other special features.

I also recently found a new day job, as YouTube is amazing but doesn’t cover all the bills, so content will be coming out a little slower—probably every other week to once a month—so if you’d like to help ensure this content continues to flow like spice, memberships help. Thank you all in advance.

In the meantime, the support and feedback on these videos has been absolutely mind-blowing, and I cannot thank you guys and gals enough. Honestly, thank you all so much. I’m glad you’ve enjoyed, and I’m excited to release more soon.

Until then, I’ve been Jir0, you’ve been amazing, and I wish you all only the best.

God bless you.