In my last article (Anno as Auteur: Researching Anime Research), I positioned Hideaki Anno (director of Neon Genesis Evangelion, Kare Kano, etc.) as an auteur. That is, a director whose creative power exceeds the studio system (ie., multiple creative artists laboring on the same work) to form a unified vision that provides the director with a particular style.
Some of my current academic work revolves around analyzing the Evangelion works as a transmedia franchise, particularly in how fans approach consumption and understand of the entire, vast narrative. I question in particular the reception of the four new Evangelion movies. Since they are not remakes of the Evangelion television series and instead are new visualizations of the Evangelion story, these films appeal to two sorts of fans: the viewers that grew up watching the television series, and a new set of fans that are understanding the Evangelion narrative for the first time. The interrelationship between these two sets of fans — particularly because they are divided by generation on top of consumptive experience — poses loads of new questions and problems about how audiences consume transmedia*.
* For example, one set of related comments voiced by fans after having watched the first film focus on how the film is “a remake of the first six episodes of the television series.” This, however, is untrue, as the film disregards most of Shinji’s emotional trauma. But I’ll break down my thoughts on this topic soon in another article…
If you have yet to see the films, I suggest watching these trailers to start:
Evangelion 1.0: You Are [Not] Alone, trailer
Evangelion 2.0: You Can [Not] Advance, trailer
These four films, two of which of course have already been released in Japan, are also a good chance to analyze the idea of auteurism in particular application to Japanese animation. As I said in my last article, a number of visual elements and styles present in Anno’s Kare Kano resemble those of Evangelion. For example, take a look at the following clip from the 22nd episode of Evangelion, in which an angel “literally” rapes Asuka’s mind.
Neon Genesis Evangelion, episode 22
Watch from 6:09, or click here for a direct link to that time. Watch it until about 7:00.
The quick cuts and flashing words are typical in Evangelion, particularly in times of emotional stress. The style of this scene is even implied in the opening credits sequence to the television series:
Watch it in full, or skip to 1:06.
Similar to the clip of Asuka above, at these points of visual characterization of emotion, comparable visual elements appear in Kare Kano:
Kare Kano, episode 4
Watch from 1:35, or click here for a direct link to that time. Watch it until 2:50.
A similar thematic element is Anno’s placement of locative and geographical frames over dialogue. For example, check out this short clip:
Kare Kano, episode 4
Watch from 3:46, or click here for a direct link to that time. Watch it until 3:58.
From this clip, as well as the previous ones with words, the visual elements are meant to cue metaphoric connections in the viewer’s mind. It’s really that simple: the clip above shows an “under construction sign” when Yukino (the female character) questions her budding relationship with Souichirou, and then it follows with a stop sign (止まれ), signaling that she should slow down and not get ahead of herself).
We could even present a similar comparison to (auteurist director) Akiyuki Shinbou, who frequently utilizes seemingly arbitrary frames that features places and locations in his animations.
However, after watching the first two Evangelion movies, it appears that the production staff has stripped these emotional elements out of the new narrative entirely. But this should come as no surprise, as the Executive Producer, Toshimichi Outsuki has already commented on the changing face of the Evangelion project. In a NEWTYPE magazine interview (translated for Newtype USA and reproduced here), Outsuki states, “I want everyone — from hardcore fans of the original work to people who only know it because of the licensed stuff — to look at it as a standalone film series.” However, these new innovative changes come at the expense of Anno’s auteurism. The article reads, “Otsuki adds that they’re removing much of the deliberate obfuscation that made Eva infamous: “Filling works with difficult workds [sic] and concepts in order to create confusion among viewers was a good technique 12 years ago, but not anymore, and one of our primary goals for this project is to turn everyone’s expectations upside down.”
This comment is actually pretty interesting in and of itself, because I believe it says much about how Japanese viewers, and particularly otaku in the 1990s, consumed television. That techniques of “confusion” were successful might actually inform our understanding of the construction of anime narratives coming into the 2000s. For example, how does this play into the otaku fervor around The Melancholy of Haruhi Suzumiya, which was the next mega-success in the anime industry after Evangelion, but which premiered in 2006.
Continuing from that point, the article also reflects on Evangelion’s identity as a sign of the anime industry proper:
The new movies also reflect the staff’s feelings about the state of the anime industry. It’s even suggested that this project is a rejection of current anime production philosophy. “It’s true that Eva was a huge hit,” Otsuki says. “But its success spawned a great deal of confusion and misunderstanding in the in the industry, the end result being a bunch of mass-produced junk. That mindset has persisted for ten years, but now we’re in a position to prove it wrong. We’re determined to close the door on the post-Eva era for good.
I find it incessantly interesting that we can define an era of fan activity and industry production by the effects on one Japanese animation.