It seems that only people with some serious daddy / mommy issues can save the face of humanity. Real?
In the end, every teen — the arguable beginning stage of substantial consciousness — or any age from there on forward has some form of a Neon Genesis Evangelion experience: that almost incomprehensible desire to piece together the surreal ambiguities that come then and again to attack your emotional stability, as if the entire world had suddenly become obliged to scrimmage against them, with nearly every observed analyses of human social rationale leading you to that (usually thought not done) conclusion of death being the only answer out of sheer failure to comprehend. Maybe the absurdly unreckonable dystopia of child-piloting mech suits, invasions from mysterious cataclysmic aliens, and a perilously fragile end of the world scenario are just the facade of the gargantuan size that can be felt just in the rather minute size of a human body: the never-ending search for understanding ourselves and the dominating sadness that comes with trying to control it in an environment where you are always seen.
Biggest pro though: I don’t think I’ve ever seen a show allow its characters to become so vulnerable as it goes along; this series is just a total mood… or more like a total mission to have every mood ever felt put into one piece. Awe yes, cheers to my new unhealthy means of substituting therapy.
“Neon Genesis Evangelion” and “The End of Evangelion” are now available to stream on Netflix.