



I’ve seen hardly any anime, so this as my first proper trip into Evangelion felt like being chucked into someone else’s fever dream and told to take notes. I hit pause for a quick Google sanity-check, then laughed at myself for thinking that would “solve” it.
The End of Evangelion is 87 minutes of end-times despair that somehow becomes weirdly exhilarating. It’s claustrophobic, brutal, and drenched in religious iconography, but the real punch is moral: what do you owe other people when you can barely stand yourself? Shinji’s paralysis, Asuka’s fury, Misato’s desperate competence — it’s all raw nerve, no padding.
Visually, it’s a nightmare museum: gorgeous, grotesque, and relentlessly inventive. I didn’t catch every reference or rule of this universe, but I felt it in my ribs. It’s the rare film that leaves you rattled, impressed, and tempted to go back for another round.