June Claret

I was introduced to Neon Genesis roughly 2 years ago. My partner and I tore through the original series (which is on Netflix) and watched the film that was released to make-up for the low budget ending (The End of Evangelion, which is also on Netflix). I was awestruck, to say the least. The ending of the SERIES was a little strange and inconclusive, but the movie managed to tidy everything up and leave me absolutely mesmerized by a dizzying display of genius. For Christmas two years ago, she bought me the rebuilds and carefully explained that the show was remade into three action movies, this time with a much higher budget. The fourth movie is the subject of this review, but I'll get there. I LOVED the first three rebuilds. They were exciting in a different way, and I found myself once-again awestruck. Certain characters are developed less, but the ideas once-again take on a larger-than-life quality that are reinforced by dazzling visuals and an encyclopedic nature. The Neon Genesis rebuilds are like tasting the sweet, enriching waters of a hidden world. Last night we watched 3.0 + 1.0 (the subject of this review). I have to say, I'm a little disappointed. While the first half of the film is filled with stellar, mystical sci fi, the second half devolves into an aggressive style of explanation. Gone is all of the subtlety - instead, we are left with very explicit explanations given by Gendo Ikari (Shinji's father) that leave fewer questions to be asked than the first time around (at the end of the 1990 series). Actually, that's not true - there are still hundreds of questions to be asked, but for whatever reason this film managed to make them seem less interesting than they actually are. It essentially takes the entire series, blends it into a pink paste, and looks at that paste through a kaleidoscope. The earlier Neon Genesis IP manages to make you feel like there's an actual world hidden underneath the surface of its eccentricity - and indeed, if you sit down and think about everything, your mind will start to piece it all together. But this movie replaces what should be several competing ideas with one simple explanation that Gendo repeats over and over again. And because the other three movies established a habit of suspending the characters in front of trippy, fractal-like backgrounds...this is normalized in the fourth film. But therein lies the problem. Because there is no build-up to the far-out backdrop of the second half, it feels out-of-place and ill-explained. The second half feels a little bit like an iTunes visualizer (NOT the case with the earlier movies, or the series from the 1990s). To be honest, I couldn't help but imagine this mindset going on at the studio: "People are so dazzled by this series, no one will notice if you make the backgrounds bear no relation to each other. Just drop a new one in every scene, tweak some settings and we're good to go". I will admit that I was in a strange mood when I watched the movie, and there's a possibility that I was projecting a little bit. I plan to watch it again at some point - all of the rebuilds, actually. If I enjoy it upon a repeat viewing then I'll update my review.