The Brewhaha on..."Neon Genesis Evangelion"

Misato:  “Can we really do this?”
Gendo:  “Of course.  Unless we defeat the Angels, we have no future.”
Fuyutsuki:  “Ikari, are you absolutely certain?”
Gendo:  *smirks*
Misato:  “EVA Launch!”
Shinji:  *screams like chicken with its head cut off*
Misato:  “Shinji…don’t get killed out there.”
-And then the first episode ends.

“Did…did the menu options just ask me why I exist? At 0:19, the menu options questioned my existence.  I…I’m afraid to watch this movie. It's not even a horror movie and this thing's freaking me out. Hell, it's the damn DVD MENU and it's freaking me out!”
-A YouTube commenter, summing up the EVA movies movie

“I love that this movie was a huge release in Japan because it violates virtually every rule of traditional film storytelling. The main character is an utter failure at almost every turn, most of the characters are dead by the halfway point, and linear narrative is totally abandoned in the second half for something much more interesting. When I make films, I frequently take a similar approach as Eva, using the trappings of genre to tell a story about a character’s psychological makeup.”
-Patrick, Thoughts on Stuff

“Finally, do you have some message for the fans?”
Kazuya Tsurumaki:  “Don't drag the past around.  Find the next thing that interests you.”
“Does that mean not becoming fixated on ‘Evangelion’?”
Kazuya Tsurumaki: “Yes.  It's always better to let something that has finished end.”
-­EvaOtaku.com

A couple of reviews back, I focused my attention on “Bleach,” noting how it would attempt to deconstruct the idea of a shonen-type hero.  About a decade before, “Neon Genesis Evangelion” would become legendary as the deconstruction of the hero; frankly it should have been called “Deconstruction:  The Animated Series.”  Nowadays, if you see an animated series (especially one from Japan) trying to create noticeably flawed, neurotic pre-teen anti-heroes, showcasing battles against increasingly logic-defying monsters from nowhere, and/or depicting an “instrumentality” plot where a visionary villain tries to become one with, and supercede, all of humanity and as a result force the heroes to contemplate their lives, it’s likely (but not necessarily) taking its cues from NGE.  Preferably, at least two of the three criteria should be met.

For the new viewer who has heard about it but may have been scared off, it’s important to note that while it’s a radically subversive show, it’s not an altogether dark one.  I think of the Nostalgia Critic’s Doug Walker’s review of his favorite episodes of “Batman:  The Animated Series,” where he stressed that while it was a dark show, it wasn’t a forced sense of darkness, and there were enough other elements to balance out the darkness.  This is my general view of NGE as well, at least for the first half.  While there are some angsty moments and while there are some macabre moments where the actual “heroic” work is concerned, it still plays out like a typical tale of boy meets girl, boy meets another girl, boy meets a vaguely maternal figure who he may or may not be attracted to, and boy tries to get the attention of his estranged, morally ambiguous father, all while piloting a robot…-looking…thing.  With fins.

Rumor has it that Hideaki Anno had just come off the lifelong bender of the ages and was suffering from depression at the time, and upon creating the show (which may have been cathartic to someone going through therapy), he ended up discovering the nasty underbelly of the EVA fandom.  Coming to some unsavory (if not altogether false) conclusions about fans in general, his tenure in the latter half of the series was most likely an attempt to challenge them, if not just piss them off.  This is what happens when you force a tweeked-out manic-depressive to interact with his “fans” (as I cleverly form quotation marks with my fingers).

Much ado has been made about the two endings of the series.  The ending shown in the original broadcast is basically a sort of vision quest, an open-ended series of sounds and animation (or a sheer lack thereof) meant to evoke a therapy session.  The ending as shown in the infamous follow-up movie “End of Evangelion” is more plot-oriented and ostensibly grounded in what passes for the show as reality, but if anything it’s even more confusing and showcases some of the most disturbing imagery ever conceived by man (plus they eventually cut back to the vision quest).

Both of the endings have been the constant subject of interpretation for years.  My thematic view is, as many would suspect, the typical coming-of-age story, with an emphasis on the hedgehog dilemma as mentioned in the show.  We keep apart from each other in order to keep from hurting ourselves and others.  Eventually, though, we must form connections with each other if we are to survive.  The typical fan presumably rejects this notion, instead choosing to close himself off within his own world.

From the perspective of the plot, I’m willing to acknowledge that the endings…happened.  (The first movie, on the other hand, was never made, and has never even existed as a gleam in Anno’s eye.)  However, as plot developments, they don’t exactly make for good cinema.  Personally, if I were to choose, I prefer the original TV ending over “End of Evangelion,” because the final episodes acknowledge that their supposed ending is a cop-out, and the movie version demonstrates that some things are probably best left to the viewer’s imagination.

Again, though, it’s important to stress that while all hell basically breaks loose (or if not that, then the exact opposite), this only occurs at the end of the show.  For the first half (‘til episode 16 or so) it’s a fairly run-of-the-mill mecha anime, if slightly darker in its implications.  The Shinji we grow to know over the course of the series is an unassertive, unassuming sort of character, but for all of his flaws he’s really just a scared fourteen-year-old kid.  In fact, this is probably why the end of the series has become so infamous; our audience surrogate is warped beyond recognition into some sort of glorified misanthrope for the purpose of making a point to fans.  Many fans may have taken the insult, but my guess is that many others just saw that Shinji had become too “whiny,” “weak,” and “crazy” to do anything useful.  (Which, again, was probably the point.)

Asuka is an interesting case; while she’s not the most likable character, she is a sympathetic one.  She’s a contrast to Shinji in that while he’s a timid character with sporadic yet conspicuous bouts of bravery, she tends to be the overconfident, almost abrasive member of the group.  With her presence comes a sitcom-like tone to the show where Shinji is the main character and Asuka is effectively the belligerent female opposite.  I wasn’t sure about her at first, but it’s interesting to see someone who questions the main character and refuses to let him dictate (if passively) the terms of their relationship.  She understands that while he is supposedly the hero, he’s also a flat-out nerd, the NGE reflection of what happens when a Shinji (whether in a show or in real life) meets girl.  It also says something about her role in the show that the two times she ends up thoroughly beaten, the mood takes a turn for the worse.

Rei.  Rei, Rei, Rei.  What else is there to say besides the sick, sick fucks who have all but fetishized her?  I can almost understand it, until I remember that her general character arc is possibly the most visceral of anything in the series.  (Plus, y’know, she’s fourteen!!!)  The “giant naked Rei” from the movie (which is prominently plastered on the Wiki page for the movie) was probably a response to this phenomenon among fans, but again, there were probably many fans who didn’t take the insult and just registered it as “OMG GIANT NAKED REIZ OMG!!!”

Speaking of fetishization, Misato’s probably my favorite character.  Besides her role as the acting head of NERV and the secondary protagonist, she’s also the only one trying to unravel the overall plot while the EVA pilots are dealing with the on-screen battles.  As a character, she also has relatable flaws (her father issues, her inability to open up, her overall laziness and love of beer) while not letting them control her life.  It might be a result of her potential conflict, but it seems like whatever problems she has are relatively underplayed and shown in a realistic light, while the other main characters are almost contractually obligated to WHAT IS THE MEANING OF MY EXISTENCE? in an increasingly overblown fashion.

And, as a guy and a fan, I’m just going to come out and say she’s the hottest of the regular cast.  Usually it’s the crazy ones, but she’s probably the most psychologically-healthy person in the series.  That might have something to do with it.

It’s impossible to know where the conflict in the series actually comes from.  On the one hand, we have Gendo, who is essentially to the various female characters what night is to day.  Where Shinji can feel some human comfort in Rei, Asuka, and especially Misato, Gendo is the source of much of their misery, whether by accident or design on his part.  We know little of his goals, and even if we can discern that much, we know nothing of the man himself.  Is he a savior, a monster, an anti-hero, or just an emotionally-stunted little man? 

At the same time, the Angels are the strange, otherworldly, incomprehensible dragons of the twenty-first century, designed to challenge, best, and if necessary break the characters.  At times they’re simple challenges to overcome, but toward the series end they have graduated into the anthropomorphic personifications of humanity’s demons; if this is a deconstruction, the characters will and must be deconstructed by the finale.

Beyond the various interactions between these characters, we have the action, or otherwise NGE wouldn’t have lured its fans.  The fights aren’t always the best, but that’s probably the point; you either avoid a fight, end it as soon as possible, or watch Tokyo-3 get laid to waste.  The action varies from long-range combat to pure fisticuffs to diving into a volcano.  When they do get close and personal, though, it’s pure brutality, the equivalent of the Daniel Craig 007 knocking his first kill into the bathroom wall.  Beyond this, the animation is decent (if not great) for 1996, blowing just about anything besides the DCAU out of the water (though again, I say, the “sheer lack thereof”…).

So, is NGE…worth it?  Well, I like to think the show has an above-average start, nothing great, but definitely watchable.  But then I AM NOT WORTH YOUR TIME.  BUT I AM THE ME THAT IS IN YOU.  IF YOU DIE, MY EXISTENCE BECOMES VOID.  I AM NOTHING.  I HAVE NOTHING.  EXCEPT THE YOU THAT IS IN ME AND THE ME THAT IS IN YOU.  INSERT OTHER PSYCHOBABBLE HERE.

Note:  The Brewsky is an enthusiastic contributor and movie reviewer who is constantly questioning whether he’s truly “enthusiastic” or CONGRATULATIONS!  YOU MADE IT TO THE END OF THE REVIEW! 

The Brewhaha on..."Edge of Apocalypse"

“As the long-running host of Crisis Point, […] it was his job to help push the agenda forward while giving the impression that he was unbiased.  […]  Last week’s show had gone smoothly.  The truckers had been marginalized exactly as the White House wanted.  Both of Matt’s guests, a leftwing journalist and a liberal strategist had, of course, been personally picked by [the President’s] press secretary…”
-p. 134, as narrated by some reporter we’ll never see again

“The belief that the United States should be unencumbered by international obligations of any kind is a core aspect of this book. It’s obvious fan-service for the intended readership which has been nurtured on a steady diet of American exceptionalism for years.  So, without further ado, let’s see what gives Joshua Jordan the right to decide for himself whether or not he’ll obey a Congressional subpoena…”
-ApocalypseReview’s blog (apparently Fred Clark’s not the only one who can do a page-by-page review of LaHaye’s books)

“Tim LaHaye fans will definitely want to pick this one up, as its ending leaves no doubt that further Joshua Jordan adventures will follow. Dedicated techno-thriller fans may find frustrating subtle errors in technology and stretches in plausibility, but anyone looking for a clean, suspenseful novel will enjoy Edge of Apocalypse.”
-James R. Hannibal, New York Journal of Books

For some reason, I bought this book.  (Secretly, I’m a glutton for punishment.)  I wish I had known before picking it up at all that someone else was reviewing it.  Page by page by agonizing page.  If I had known that, I would’ve saved about five bucks.

For my fellow Slacktivites out there (I’ve been lurking for the past year or two), thanks to nearly a decade of page-by-page reviews given to us by Fred Clark, we all know L&J, the infamous pair of LaHaye and Jenkins, and how nauseating, how outright evil their “Left Behind” books are, not just in terms of their theology, but also in terms of just how much they violate the basic rules of writing (rule no. 1:  Get a damn editor!).  LaHaye has rehashed and milked his “Left Behind” concept, and the series in general, for every last wretched cent he can get from his suckers fans, but it probably helps this book by leaps and bounds that his cowriter (re:  the guy who actually has to write the book) bothered to do some research beforehand. 

From a technical standpoint, it’s not a bad book, if somewhat needlessly padded out over four hundred pages when it could have literally been written in half the length.  It helps a lot that LaHaye tapped Craig Parshall, whose past work apparently includes half a dozen legal fiction novels.  It also helps leaps and bounds that this book focuses more on the down-to-earth aspects of the end times scenario LaHaye has concocted. 

It goes back-and-forth between the POV’s of various characters, taking a mostly macroscopic view of the potential disaster awaiting the U.S.  We go from Joshua Jordan, weapons designer and the main protagonist of the story, to his strained relationship with his college-age son, to the ruthless mercenary sent to retrieve his designs, to the federal agent trying to capture said mercenary, to the vice president herself, one Jessica Tulrude.  (I’m guessing LaHaye came up with many of the names.  Subtlety is not his strong suit.)

Like I said, though, this book could have literally been written in half the length.  Why?  Because every time LaHaye and his minion (whether it's Jenkins or someone else) write a book, it always has to be spaced out like this.  Presumably, this is so those poor readers out there with bad eyes can differentiate between lines of the text.

Even with this in mind, though, there’s so much damn padding.  This was a problem with “Left Behind,” and it will probably be a problem with this series too.  There’s a subplot involving Debbie, a friend of Jordan’s family, which frankly could have been excised without any trouble at all.  From a character perspective, it’s probably meant to establish that Jordan’s wife is more caring and better at dealing with people than Jordan (plus, Debbie was apparently the wife of “Fort,” an associate of Jordan and a member of Jordan’s personal ensemble).  It was also probably a metaphor for how we, as human beings, become dependent on earthly things which distract us and ultimately prevent us from being closer to God.  It still seemed like an unnecessary tangent, though.

The A-plot of the book starts off with a sort of action “prologue” (gee, this sounds familiar); following a near-miss with an American naval plane, the Koreans launch a pair of missiles at the U.S., specifically New York City.  You’d never see Koreans trying to attack us via some out-of-the-way spot like Memphis, Tennessee (perhaps they know better, considering the King lives there and all…).  Luckily, high-tech weapons specialist Joshua Jordan (who, as a side note, was probably beaten up every day after school until he changed his name or started designing weapons, whichever came first) uses a missile defense system called “Return-to-Sender” (RTS) to avert the catastrophe.  The missiles are reprogrammed and diverted back to the Korean base from whence they came, killing those responsible for launching the attack.

Brought ever closer to World War III, this series of background chapters ends with one Pastor Campbell trying to scare us into Christ.  After listing off a series of signs such as earthquakes, “drought and pestilence,” and “worldwide conflict”—all of which have been conveniently offscreen at this point—he warns the congregation—and by extension, us—to come to Jesus before it’s too late.  Already, I’m not sure which approach is better; in this novel, we’re apparently in the middle of an international crisis, but I’m not sure it’s an “end times”-worthy scenario, which makes the whole book seem lukewarm in contrast to the first chapters of “Left Behind,” which was quick to depict the presence of supernatural forces.  There’s no question that a missile crisis is scary, but again, it’s not “end of the world” scary.

The book then skips ahead two weeks, and in the eighth chapter we join one Agent John Gallagher, a member of an elite federal counterterrorism unit, as he narrates the aftereffects of the attack.  The U.S. President at this time, one Virgil Corland, has apparently become bogged down by “indecision” following the attack, despite the fact that America basically caught a pair of missiles and threw them right back where they came.  It’s revealed near the end of the book that “R & D has been pretty much halted with President Corland’s edict against any ‘exotic new missile defense systems’,” which seemed like an afterthought on the part of the authors to put the U.S. in a more vulnerable position, and made me think that maybe their book president should stop being so “political” and just all-around failing at life.  Still, it’s an understandable position; no one wants to be the President who may have started World War III, even if it was in self-defense.

The book goes on to show Jordan’s congressional hearing over the legality of the defense system.  Here we have another infodump on the possible future of the U.S.; one Senator Hewbright discusses the ramifications of various “disastrous treaties” with the U.N., including the “United Nations Covenant of Tolerance and Human Rights that, I’m ashamed to say, the United States Senate also ratified.” (p. 64)  There’s another passage (p. 119) where a U.S. marshall laments the presence of a U.N. Human Rights division based in California, thinking to himself, What was happening to America?  It’s a telling piece of characterization for both of these chraracters, but probably a characterization choice which reflects badly on the author’s viewpoints rather than anything intentional.

If I were reading a LaHaye book for the first time, I would be wondering right now if there was something I’m missing in a covenant for “tolerance and human rights,” something “bad” I should know about.  As it is, it’s still a very confusing view on international relations in general and the U.N. in particular, but not a surprising one.  LaHaye’s views on international relations are far too strange for me to describe in detail, but suffice to say, foreign countries in general—and the U.N. in particular—are not to be trusted.  The book includes many instances of the words “globalist” and “internationalist” and “dirty Commie hippie-ist [sic].”  As far as LaHaye and the other John Birchers are concerned, “human rights” is nothing but a moniker the U.N. operates under in order to take over the world.

With this apparent international conspiracy to erode the sovereignty of our nation in mind…the protagonist’s mind…somehow?...Jordan is asked by Congress to hand over the specifications for the RTS system.  Naturally…Jordan refuses.  He thinks that handing his specs over would make the system vulnerable to foreign intelligence. 

Which brings us to Atta Zimler, also known as the “Albanian” (in the same tradition as Heroes’ “The Haitian” and “The German” and “The Black Guy Who Uses Your Fear To Make Him Strong”).  It’s almost a hundred pages in, and it strikes me how well-written, how well-constructed, this book actually is (at least compared to L&J’s efforts).  The transition to Zimler’s intro, and the assassination he carries out over the next ten pages, are nearly cinematic in tone.  Frankly, it wouldn’t be out of place in a movie (probably not a unique phenomenon in novels nowadays considering this is 2011, but still). 

For those of you who have read my other reviews and my tendency to relish action movies, it probably goes without saying that this guy’s my favorite character.  Sure, he kills people and he’s a complete monster, but there’s something about him that’s so care-free while still being a complete badass (which I’m psychologically dispositioned to root for).  Compared to Jordan, who spends most of the book essentially hiding a God damn state defense secret from his own government, I’m going to side with the mercenary who gets to do cool, mercenary things (a proud tradition continued from the “Left Behind” series, where I sided with the guy who had the supernatural powers, the one-world government, and the cheesy outlandish accent in the movie).

The actual conflict of the book is driven by the government and Zimler’s respective efforts to get to Jordan and obtain the specs.  For the former, they issue a congressional order to Jordan to hand in the specs within forty-eight hours.  They have also spread a smear campaign against Jordan, accusing him of trying to extort money out of the government in exchange for use of the RTS specs.  It’s revealed that the government, and the Corland administration in particular, has been able to establish a media monopoly through the use of digital cable.  It’s a believable turn of events and use of the government’s power, but I can understand why many reviewers believe this is a politically-motivated book.

Obviously, Jordan…spends most of his time ducking the congressional order, while gathering some of his old war buddies to establish a new media network called Fox News AmeriNews, which is essentially the conservative counterpart to the Corland-dominated news.  With the use of their precious reporters (equipped with Allfones®, brought to you by MomCorp), they plan to tell the real, true story of just why Jordan…is hiding a state defense secret from his own government.  Again, yes, vaguely politically-motivated blah blah blah, but this whole sorry conflict could have been avoided if Jordan and co. weren’t so damn fearful of the boogeyman that is foreign relations.

This overall conflict should make Jordan feel cornered.  But that’s not the case; for all of this, he still has some friends in high places, or otherwise AmeriNews wouldn’t even be possible.  This is a theme that Parshall touches on…nay, he brings it up again and again, practically preaching it to us via Pastor Campbell, the obligatory clergyman for this series.  And there is a sense that much of the conflict is actually out of the protagonist’s hands, particularly once Zimler makes his move for Jordan.  The main theme for the novel is one of helplessness, and that we must turn to God in the face of overwhelming circumstances.

Said God brings providence in the form of the so-called “Patriots,” a group of “powerfully connected Christian leaders.”  Their main representative is one Patrick McHenry, and it probably says something about the tone of the series, and LaHaye’s views of Christianity in general, that his supporting Christian character of choice is a mysterious, well-connected cipher who can command a small, anonymous crack SWAT team and who is all but kept in shadow during this first novel.  It also says something about the creative minds behind this book that all we really know about this character is taken from that blurb in the front cover that I just quoted.

In terms of its Christian themes, it’s probably average—not particularly well-written, but not overbearing either.  The sharp exception is the terrible dialogue during the golf scene between Jordan and Pastor Campbell a little over halfway through the book, which basically took me out of the scene.  (“If the tower has only one frequency, it doesn’t make much sense to say you don’t like that frequency and you’d rather have multiple options.”  “So, what’s the single frequency for God?” […] “The ultimate reason that Jesus came to earth was simple, but pretty mind-blowing…”) Again, my best guess is that this is par for the course as far as Christian novels are concerned, but I had to stop reading about halfway through that scene because I physically couldn’t stand it.

Jordan’s wife, Abigail, was tolerable, but not much more than that.  She juggled three hats, one could say:  the AmeriNews team lawyer, a mom and wife, and the token born-again Christian who tries to save Jordan’s soul.  As the lawyer, she had an excellent scene with one of the FCC chairs (and the typical scene where the woman laments the use of high heels).  As the mom, caring and a nice foil to Jordan.  As the Christian…I remember scribbling down “Shut up, shut up, shut up…” whenever she started talking about God.  (I’m starting to see how fans can actually hate a character…)

You also have the obligatory plot where Jordan is trying to reconnect with his son, Cal.  Out of most of the scenes, these were probably the strongest.  As a son who has a dad (two, actually, if you count the guy my mom’s with now), I can relate to these scenes.  And as a son whose gotten into fights with his parents (albeit the mom more than either of the two dads combined), I can relate to those scenes too.  Cal’s presence is meant to establish that Joshua Jordan is human; it accomplishes that, and not much else.  However, there is one interesting scene where Cal has to defend his dad’s case.

You’ve probably noticed that I’ve focused on the A-plot—the Zimler plot, the overall political scene, and Jordan’s efforts to protect the defense system.  The fact of the matter is that the book focuses on so many of the overt “global” aspects of the potential end times—with an emphasis on the AmeriNews deal and tracking Zimler—that many of the characters feel diluted as a result.  The Jordans, Zimler, and Agent Gallagher are all fairly well-developed (and Jessica Tulrude, even with as few scenes as she appeared in, will probably make a decent antagonist for the rest of the series), but the overall narrative is very plot-oriented, and there’s very little time to slow down and get to know all the new guys.  We don’t even know that much about Pastor Campbell, which is somewhat egregious considering this is a Christian book series and he ends up tagging along for the last quarter of the book.

This brings me to my final analysis:  It’s an average book.  There’s nothing that you really take away from it.  As a Christian fiction novel, it’s probably decent, but no more than that.  As a thriller, again, it’s decent, and only decent.  If you don’t believe in the end times or God, it won’t change your mind.  If you do believe in the end times or God, you’ll probably like it (and if you’re a Left Behind fan, it’ll definitely be a step up).  As the noughties counterpart to the first Left Behind novel, it’s technically constructed better, but its resolution lacks the punch that Nicolae Carpathia’s U.N. scene had.  It ends with something that would work in a straightforward action scene or even a movie, but as setup for the sequels in an end times series, it simply fails to lure you in.

Note:  The Brewsky is an enthusiastic contributor and movie reviewer.  Have you contributed lately?  What is God’s plan, how has he reviewed your life?  Are you enthusiastic about giving your life over to the Lord?