Note: This review contains spoilers for the entire Evangelion franchise.
Hideaki Anno is a filmmaker who refuses to stagnate. Ever since the release and subsequent success of his anime series Neon Genesis Evangelion, he’s continued to innovate his craft. From big budget thrillers like Shin Godzilla to bizarre art films like Ritual, Anno hasn’t let the Evangelion define him.
Nevertheless, the Evangelion franchise has stayed big, despite its creator. With all the hype and potential profit, it was only logical for Anno to continue the franchise with the controversial Rebuild of Evangelion film series, which has finally come to an end with Evangelion: 3.0+1.0 Thrice Upon a Time.
As the title suggests, this is the third time Evangelion has come to an end. While Evangelion will probably continue for decades to come, Anno has stated that this is his final involvement with the franchise. All this considered, Thrice Upon a Time has the monumental task of measuring up to the franchise’s two previous endings (the original anime and The End of Evangelion movie), as well as clean up the messy plot of its predecessor, You Can (Not) Redo.
The End of Evangelion is one of the most bizarre, moving, and disturbing animated films ever made. The film ended the anime’s story with a surreal, nightmarish, apocalypse that blurred the lines of cinema and reality. Throughout the film, there’s the underlying theme of powerlessness and despair.
Each moment of tenderness or heroism is offset by something repulsive and uncomfortable. Even the film’s ending demonstrates this with Asuka saying “how disgusting” right after she comforts the enraged Shinji.
In contrast to The End of Evangelion, Thrice Upon a Time is a much more optimistic and traditionally “cinematic” experience. Oftentimes, it doesn’t match up to some of The End of Evangelion’s more haunting and surreal scenes, but on the whole, it’s equally interesting.
Thrice Upon a Time picks up where You Can (Not) Redo ends. After a second near-apocalypse caused by Shinji, our main trio (Shinji, Asuka, and Rei) spend the opening credits wandering a desolate wasteland. After being found by Kensuke and Toji (supporting characters from early on in the series), they’re taken to a safe, primitive village hidden away from the apocalypse outside.
The film’s opening hour (taking place in the village) is Thrice Upon a Time at its best. The village represents a world that has moved on and matured, in contrast to the stunted main cast. Toji and Kensuke—the goofy, dimwitted duo from early on in the story—have become the mature, responsible characters.
While the main cast’s peers have gone on to start families or become leaders in their community, the “important” characters now seem childish and pathetic. Shinji wallows in self-pity, Asuka remains bitter, and Rei struggles to understand basic human interaction.
Describing his experience during the apocalyptic events of the previous films, Toji says, “It wasn’t a world where clueless kids could survive. We had to grow up in a hurry and learn to do everything on our own.”
The message is clear: our main cast’s adolescent angst is something that must be shed if the world is to survive.
In contrast to the desolate sterile environments of the previous Rebuild films, Thrice Upon a Time shows nature reclaiming the earth after the apocalypse. Vibrant, beautiful backgrounds are abundant in the film, giving it an almost live-action feel. The art and shading even rivals Makoto Shinkai’s Your Name.
What’s also refreshing is Anno’s attention to “cinematography”. While many other anime films only use static shots and few cuts, Thrice Upon a Time’s shot composition is clearly inspired by Anno’s live-action work. Techniques like shaky cam, panning, and establishing shots are replicated in animation to great effect.
Evangelion’s famous surrealism and disjointed editing are brought back in the film’s second half. Many familiar images from the original anime are brought back such as Rei’s decapitated head, Asuka and Shinji on the beach, and the original anime’s title card.
Dreamlike sequences, a prolonged action sequence, and exposition, set up the final confrontation between Shinji and his father Gendo. From here on, the film begins to feel more symbolic of Anno’s personal growth.
By the end, our main characters finally gain some closure. The last scene shows Shinji—now a content, grown man—at a train station in Anno’s hometown of Ube, and the film ends on a drone shot showing Ube in the modern day.
Thrice Upon a Time is an almost perfect conclusion to Evangelion. Yet despite how much I enjoyed it, there are several flaws.
While the film succeeds in visual storytelling, the film’s script is full of exposition and jargon. Unlike the original anime, Thrice Upon a Time’s overarching plot about alternating dimensions and godlike robots is little more than nonsense.
Fan-favorite characters like Asuka and Misato lose their complexity, and some death scenes are far less memorable than in The End of Evangelion. Intentional or not, Thrice Upon a Time also has moments of laughably bad CGI.
However, the film’s themes, music, and visuals completely transcend these flaws to create a conclusion that’s far more emotionally satisfying than any previous ending for Evangelion.
The film’s main theme of “maturity vs stagnation” is something that Hideaki Anno is clearly passionate about, and that elevates Thrice Upon a Time to a level equal to its predecessor.
Evangelion: 3.0+1.0 Thrice Upon a Time is a beautiful animated film and a worthwhile experience for all Evangelion fans. After 25 years of waiting, Hideaki Anno and series protagonist Shinji have finally earned their happy endings.
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