The Resurrection of Evangelion

The ending of Neon Genesis Evangelion is not the ending Anno originally wanted. After real-world tragedies forced the animation staff to rewrite the finale, and deadlines forced them to cut corners, the last two episodes of NGE ended up being the best they could do under the realities of tv production. Audience reaction to these episodes was mixed. While it’s commonly assumed that fans overwhelmingly hated the NGE finale, a better description is that most people were simply confused. They weren’t quite sure what to make of the ending, and like myself, while they still loved the show, the last two episodes coloured their overall experiences.

However, controversy attracts attention, and with the already sizeable fanbase that had developed over the course of the show’s run combined with newfound publicity from the controversial finale, home sales of NGE on VHS generated a massive profit for GAINAX, to say nothing of the money made from merchandise, manga, and mmmvideo games (I’m sorry I couldn’t think of an appropriate alliterative aaaa… y’know what let’s just move on).

The point is, Hideaki Anno was now in a position to do something few artists get to do: have another go at the ending of his story. He had the money, he had the audience, and he had the passion for the project. All he needed was to get to work. But with this opportunity came expectations; expectations from studios that they would get a return on investment, expectations from fans that they would get the ending that they wanted, and expectations from Anno himself that he had the ability to see his vision realized. And with these expectations came pressure.

The Genesis of Evangelion

This article can also be read at AJET Connect here.

Neon Genesis Evangelion is a phenomenon. Like Sherlock Holmes or Gundam, even if you’ve never seen a single episode of the show, you’re probably at least aware of it on some level, due to the sheer ubiquity of media, merch, pastiches, and parodies out there. If I tell my students most of the anime I watched when I was their age, they stare at me blankly, or even gasp at how old I am to have watched such ancient animation. But if I say that I watched Evangelion, my students light up as they gush about their own love of whatever piece of Eva media they first encountered. That is the ubiquity, the longevity, that is enjoyed by Evangelion in Japan, to say nothing of its popularity outside its home country.

Given the sheer scope of NGE’s popularity though, it raises the obvious question “Why cover it here?” What more is there to say about a show that has already been so thoroughly dissected and discussed? What new insight could I, Marco Cian, possibly lend to the series? It certainly is a daunting task, and one that gives me slight trepidation.

And yet, after I recently bit the bullet and watched the last two Rebuild of Evangelion films (something I’d been putting off for some time), the ending of the series left me with a morass of emotions, which I found difficult to process and put into words. Whenever I thought I’d settled on an opinion, some new aspect of the movies would remind me of itself, and my feelings would once again be cast into chaos. The only thought that remained consistent, the one conclusion I was able to come to, was that I needed to go back and explore the whole series. And not just the original tv show and Rebuild films, but everything Eva I could get my hands on. It felt like, if I could just see the full picture of Eva, I might be able to come to terms with its ultimate conclusion.

More than that though, I’m a different person now than I was when I first watched Eva over a decade ago. I’ve changed, my tastes have changed, and perhaps my perspective on NGE has changed in new and interesting ways. It’s certainly something I’m interested in exploring, and as any content creator will tell you, if you’re going to make content out of something, it better be something you’re genuinely interested in.

So, to start out with, let’s take a look at the show that started it all.

The Discworld Eras

Hey everyone. So, if you were there for my Youtube channel, you probably know that I divide the books in the Discworld series into distinct eras. Because I never finished my Fantastic Fiction series on Discworld though, I never got a chance to fully explain just where I draw the lines dividing these eras, and what distinguishes them all from each other. Now that I’ve got this blog though, I’d like to take the time to do just that.

The Genesis Era (The Colour of Magic to Moving Pictures)

I call this the Genesis Era simply because it is, well, the genesis of Discworld, and of Terry Pratchett as an author. It’s where Sir Terry cut his teeth as a writer and laid the groundwork for the world he would explore. For the most part, these books are harmless fluff and fun romps, and are a far cry from the richer, deeper works Pratchett would later put out. However, even if, as Neil Gaiman says, the first batch of Discworld books are largely just a collection of jokes (and not even very good jokes), there are definitely the seeds of something great that you can see in them. Indeed, two of the books from this era (Wyrd Sisters and Guards! Guards!) display an unusual amount of richness and social commentary (Guards! Guards! in particular), heralding future heights the series would attain. And even with this as the series’s low point, I don’t think I would call any of the books here bad per se, just occasionally dull. So, while some people might tell you to skip to later books if you want to enjoy Discworld, I’d encourage readers to at least try out the Genesis Era books first, only skipping to the later stuff if you’re just not feeling it.

The Golden Era (Reaper Man to Jingo)

I call this the Golden Era because it represented a fresh surge of creativity in the Discworld series, as Sir Terry, now a far better, more experienced writer, shifted focus away from simple parodies and towards deeper satire, which is what made the series such a mainstay in the fantasy community. It represents a high water mark for the series as a whole, and while some might argue over where that mark ends, for me the last Golden Era Discworld book is Jingo, because it’s the last book in this bunch to feel truly innovative. Every book in the Golden Era feels like Pterry is excitedly buzzing with new ideas and new interests he wants to explore, and having now settled on a stable cast of characters, Pratchett uses this time to explore and enrich them further. This is where my favorite Discworld books are, and where a lot of fans recommend you start, since it’s early enough in the series that everything is still new, but late enough that Sir Terry is firing on all creative cylinders.

The Silver Era (The Lost Continent to The Last Hero)

All good things must come to an end, and every car eventually runs out of juice. By the time the Discworld series numbered in the 20s, Pratchett had settled into a pattern. The books never became bad, since by that point even in his sleep Pterry could spin a good yarn. But there’s a distinct feeling of Sir Terry going through the motions by this point. The books in this era tend to either be proper, lasting sendoffs (The Lost Continent), experiments that don’t really work (Carpe Jugulum), more of the same (The Fifth Elephant), or onanistic canon-wielding (Thief of Time). Even the most interesting and creative of the books in this era, The Last Hero, feels like a tryout for new cover artist Phil Kidby. Again, it’s never bad per se, but at this point my (and I suspect Pterry’s) enthusiasm for Discworld was beginning to wane.

The Renaissance Era (The Amazing Maurice to Making Money)

When you’ve been doing something for long enough, you can forget the things you liked about it. Even your favorite dish starts to taste stale if you eat it every day, and it’s only when some new thing comes along to shake up your routine that you remember why you fell in love in the first place. With Pratchett, that thing was The Amazing Maurice, an assignment to write a typical Discworld book, but for a younger audience (with all the considerations that entails). This ended up being a shock to the system, which allowed Sir Terry to explore new stories, new characters, and new corners of the Disc, resulting in his absolute best work. Night Watch is regarded by many, myself included, as the best Discworld novel, and it’s from this era, alongside other amazing classics like The Wee Free Men and Going Postal (amongst the most well-known Discworld books). Unfortunately, this was not to last.

The Thanatos Era (Unseen Academicals to The Shepherd’s Crown)

In 2007, Terry Pratchett was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s Disease. This led to a reevaluation of his life and work, and a focus on public advocacy and charity work towards Alzheimer’s research. During this time, Pterry took a brief break from Discworld to publish his manifesto, Nation, and when at last he returned to the Disc, there was a noticeable change in mood. This last batch of books has a somberness and melancholy to it, no doubt informed by Prathett’s desire to make the most of whatever time he had left. And while he had given his characters sendoffs before, in this era it feels like Sir Terry is trying to give everyone a happy ending. Terry Pratchett succeeded in something that few authors accomplish, creating a fully realized fantasy world. And even as the characters he illustrated this world through reach the end of their stories in this era, the roots he put down are strong enough that you know the world will survive long after the characters, and Terry, are gone. GNU.

Dose Wicked, Wicked Bwack Wowduhs

Warning: This review contains mild spoilers and discusses rape and sexual assault.

Let me tell you a tale. In the summer of 2015, instead of going home for vacation, I stayed on my college campus to work at the library. It was fun, a great time all around. I was a model employee, and given my bibliophile nature, I was effectively a kid with the keys to the candy store. Literally. As part of my duties I was given the library keys and could come and go as I pleased. And while I took that summer to check out as many books as I could, I also took the time to work my way through various DVD’s that had caught my eye, one of which was a seemingly innocuous film called Wicked City.

When I popped the DVD into my laptop, I confess my expectations were simply of action, synth-music, and not much else. But what I got was my first proper exposure to adult anime, and signaled the start of my journey into unrepentant degeneracy. It’s been a long time since that first fateful viewing though, and I couldn’t help but wonder recently if my opinion on Wicked City would change, now that I am an older, wiser, and kinkier fellow. Would it still hold up? Or would I be embarrassed at my younger self for having ever liked the film as much as I did?

Spoilers: I had less discerning tastes when I was young and inexperienced.

Yes, Madam? No Sir!

Like the team of Oracle and Bone Studios, as part of my education on 80s Hong Kong, I set about watching as many relevant films from that time period as I could. One such film was Yes, Madam!, an iconic work of cinema which directly inspired two characters in Project Shenmue, and which, even if you’ve never seen the full film, you’ve seen images from at least.

The iconic shot of Michelle Yeoh and Cynthia Rothrock, two massive stars in their own right, standing side by side as they prepare for an epic fight scene, is one that you’ve probably seen floating around the internet at some point in your life. And it’s easy to assume from that shot that Yes, Madam! is a buddy cop movie, a wunza plot where two badass gals kick some butt and do awesome, girl power shenanigans. This was Yeoh’s first lead role, and Rothrock’s first role ever, and the fact that they team up to kick ass seems like it would be awesome. That’s what the film is billed as: Michelle Yeoh and Cynthia Rothrock kick ass.

The problem is that that’s not what the movie actually is.

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