Spoiler warning. And if you have cPTSD, watch only if stable, and maybe with a close friend.
If you know anything about Japanese animation, you know Neon Genesis Evangelion. The original series was13 hours followed by 2 movies. Then 20 years later, the director, Hideaki Anno, made a series of 4 more movies, the last of which was recently released in America.
Using typical anime themes, Anno created a story all about trauma, mental illness, and the long healing journey. The first series plays out at a slow pace, then ends with a very philosophicsl explanation of how the central character chooses to go on in the world. I wrote a thesis on it in college, so look that up or ask me for it if you want more.
The new movies ran faster and, at first, seemed a retelling of the same story with small variations. Quickly it became clear that it wasn't a retelling, but a recurrence of the same patterns brought on by the characters' continued behavior patterns. Any of us with cPTSD get that. In fact this blog is evidence, as I just recalled with deja vu clarity, writing this before, likely when I saw the third movie, appropriately titled, You Cannot Redo. In this film the main character awakes from a battle to find 15 years have passed, he and a few others have not changed, but he has left the world he knew in a chaos from his well intentioned but reckless actions.
A guiding character is now spending her life atoning for her encouragement of the actions and the boy discovers how everyone has been picking up the pieces and coping in the wake of his destruction.
In the final movie, which I just saw, we see the boy in total shock, withdrawn as he always does, and the same cycle starting again. Without going into too much detail, it's important to remember that the series was never about robots, aliens, plots against humanity or any of that. It was and remains entirely a metaphorical epic for living with childhood trauma.
We are finally shown what we knew to be the case: Abusive fathers were themselves abused and operating from a broken framework. People advise from ignorant places of their own damage. We seek out complimentary damages in others which destroy relationships. Some of us break solitary, others angry, others overachieve. We repeat the same battles in our minds that play out in our worlds with new faces and spaces.
We create powerful defense mechanisms which we sync with and live inside, ready to fight off all threats, real or imagined.
But we hopefully, eventually learn that we can't fight our way out. We can't run. It will draw us back and repeat. But in each cycle, we can hopefully grow a little and eventually decide to live in a world with others, where we chose to never create the monstrous defenders that destroy our worlds in attempts to protect us.
And when we've faced those demons, understood our fathers, made amends to those we've damaged, and accepted the flaws of others and ourselves, we can walk back into another new world, resolved to go on, and knowing, we'll likely do it all again. But each time, maybe we can do it just a little better.
This is so masterfully played out in gorgeous artwork and veiled, yet accessible detail in this unique body of work, the last installment of which did not disappoint. If you are confused, welcome to the inside of childhood trauma. It doesn't make sense, there is little grounding. It is an existence very much like Anno portrays it. And even healing is terrifying and dangerous as we must descend into realms of ourselves where the rules of everyday humanity do not apply. Just go for the ride, feel with the characters without having to fix or understand, and let this masterpiece affect you.
あんのさん、また自分の深くの心を私達に見せました。僕達は分かりますよ。本気でありがとうごさいます。
