Film Club: “Evangelion” and Self-Actualization

Exploring the classic anime as a self-help text.


Cover photo: Promotional image for End of Evangelion, produced by Gainax (1997). Via Polygon.


WARNING: This article mentions murder, depression, and includes spoilers for the TV series Neon Genesis Evangelion (1995-96) and film The End of Evangelion (1997).


Intro

Premiering in 1995, Neon Genesis Evangelion (新世紀エヴァンゲリオン) — or Eva — follows a team of young pilots defending Earth from otherworldly invaders. Unlike typical mecha anime, Eva unfolds as a harrowing exploration of psychological trauma, masculine anxiety, and the pain of connection. 30 years later, it remains deeply resonant — not just for story or style, but a radical message of self-actualization.

Eva Unit-01, from Neon Genesis Evangelion, directed by Hideaki Anno [庵野 秀明] (1995-96). Via GameSpot.

Adolescence & Masculinity

On the surface, Eva is a mecha anime, complete with thrilling giant robot battles. Traditionally aimed at young boys, the mecha genre — including Astro Boy and Mobile Suit Gundam — offers a compelling allegory for puberty and adolescence: heroes must learn to navigate and control the newfound power and responsibility of their changing bodies.

Eva evolves the mecha genre, repurposing familiar tropes to stage a dark psychological drama. The story centers young Shinji Ikari, a fourteen-year-old tasked with defending humanity, a humanity from which he feels excluded. Eva offers an unflinching look at the visceral brutality and trauma of war, and interrogates the expectations of masculinity.

Throughout Eva, young Shinji’s manhood is frequently questioned. “Aren’t you a boy?” jeers Captain Misato Katsuragi in Episode 1. He exhibits a “queer masculinity” marked by his struggles with social scripts of sex and aggression (and brief affection for Kaworu Nagisa). He is timid, indecisive, and paralyzed by self-loathing.

“By the standards of conventional anime, it’s inconceivable that Eva’s main character doesn’t try harder,” says Toshio Okada (岡田 斗司夫), co-founder of Eva’s production company Gainax. “But that’s precisely what makes him so appealing today.”

Shinji epitomizes a dame (pronounced “dah-mé”) disposition — translating as “useless” or “pathetic” — once associated with hardcore anime fans, or otaku.

Depressed Shinji faces the Human Instrumentality Project, from Neon Genesis Evangelion, directed by Hideaki Anno [庵野 秀明] (1995-96). Via GameSpot.

Otaku & Loneliness

The term otaku (translating as “geek” or “nerd”) was coined in 1983 by critic Akio Nakamori (中森 明夫) to describe pop culture obsessives — young males who appear poorly groomed, disinterested in sports, and socially maladjusted.

The reputation of otaku as societal failures was solidified in 1988-89, when a young man named Tsutomu Miyazaki (宮﨑 勤) abducted and murdered four girls. Sensationalist reports dubbed the lonely outcast as the “Otaku Killer” due to his archives of violent media, including anime.

The case brought Japan’s otaku from the fringes into the mainstream spotlight. Around that time, newspaper Yomiuri Weekly defined otaku as “boys who are absorbed in things like anime, computers and videos . . . said to be bad at natural human communication and tend to withdraw into their own world.”

Long struggling with depression, creator Hideaki Anno (庵野 秀明) developed Eva in this context. He explained, “I tried to include everything of myself in Neon Genesis Evangelion — myself, a broken man who could do nothing for four years.”

Inspired by the idea, “You can’t run away,” Anno channeled his own struggles into Shinji, who must learn to take responsibility for his own life. The mantra, “I mustn’t run away!” became the show’s iconic refrain. In this light, Eva is both a therapeutic project and a self-help text — made by and for otaku. Beneath the gloss of giant robots, attractive girls, and cryptic mysticism, Anno was able to deliver his message of accountability and hope to a lonesome audience.

Evangelion is an unsurpassed milestone in the history of otaku culture,” praised artist Takashi Murakami (村上 隆), “In many ways, Evangelion is a meta-otaku film, through which Anno, himself an otaku, strived to transcend the otaku tradition.”

The Third Impact begins, resulting in the Human Instrumentality Project, The End of Evangelion, directed by Hideaki Anno [庵野 秀明] (1997). Via The Cinematheque.

Individual vs Collective

Episode 4 introduces the “Hedgehog’s Dilemma,” conceived by German philosopher Arthur Schopenhauer. Scientist Ritsuko Akagi explains, “Hedgehogs have a hard time sharing warmth with other hedgehogs. The closer they get, the more they hurt each other with their quills.” The series gives this idea form through the A.T. (Absolute Terror) Fields.

Shinji withdraws from others in an effort to avoid pain. Initially unwilling to become a pilot, he discovers the role brings him recognition and a sense of purpose. Despite his discomfort, Shinji lets this identity consume him.

The final episodes of the series and subsequent film, The End of Evangelion (1997), further explore Shinji’s identity through the Human Instrumentality Project, which promises to merge all humans into a single consciousness with the Third Impact.

Scholar River Seager writes, “Instrumentality violently resolves the hedgehog’s dilemma: all of humanity becoming, as the series puts it, ‘one body, one soul.’” It echoes psychological concepts like dissociation or ego death — the obliteration of self in exchange for peace.

Anshay Tomar, assistant professor at the Bhopal School of Social Sciences, concludes that the project represents “a paradoxical conflict between personal growth and collective unity.”

Ultimately, Shinji rejects Instrumentality, choosing the pain of individuality over the comfort of oblivion. Eva suggests the individual cannot exist without the collective — and only by negotiating the boundaries between the self and other can humans truly grow.

Shinji floats through the Human Instrumentality Project, from Neon Genesis Evangelion, directed by Hideaki Anno [庵野 秀明] (1995-96). Via Mubi.

Conclusion

Neon Genesis Evangelion emerged during a moment of cultural crisis — around masculinity, identity, and the possibility of genuine connection in an increasingly fragmented world. The series gave voice to a marginalized subculture and anticipated the isolating intimacy of life online.

For Anno, Eva was deeply personal: a way to confront depression, alienation, and fear. For viewers, it became a powerful mirror.

Eva insists that becoming yourself demands risk, and that growth never comes without pain. Like Shinji, it challenges viewers to face themselves, accept their flaws, and attempt connection with others. In doing so, Evangelion becomes more than a cult anime — it becomes a radical guide to self-actualization.