Some stories are meant to be told over and over again. In Feb. 2007, Neon Genesis Evangelion creator Hideaki Anno released a statement seven months before the release of Evangelion: 1.0 You Are (Not) Alone, the first entry in his Rebuild of Evangelion tetralogy. “Eva is a story that repeats,” Anno said. “It is a story where the main character witnesses many horrors with his own eyes, but still tries to stand up again.” And so, in the four-part cinematic retelling of the original 26-episode mecha anime, Shinji Ikari has to stand up once again despite the fresh horrors he’s subjected to. Since the original Neon Genesis Evangelion wrapped up its polarizing finale in March 1996, we’ve been treated to two distinct franchise endings between the anime series and its remake movies (three, if we count Yoshiyuki Sadamoto’s manga). Anno switched up the core thesis of episodes 25 and 26 in The End of Evangelion to deliver an unforgettably decisive conclusion in the emotionally devastating Evangelion: 3.0+1.0 Thrice Upon a Time.
As it turns out, however, a new Evangelion anime is currently in the works from Yoko Taro, the creator of Nier and Nier: Automata. This announcement came during Evangelion’s 30th anniversary event, during which fans were also able to see an exclusive short film revolving around the character Asuka Langley Soryu. Studio Khara and CloverWorks are involved in the production of the new series, alongside Rebuild of Evangelion director Kazuya Tsurumaki, who also helmed the 12-episode Mobile Suit Gundam GQuuuuuuX. Taro’s lifelong fascination with Evangelion is no secret, as the eccentric video game director has described Nier as a “retelling” of Anno’s enduring work. “Everything I make is influenced by Evangelion,” Taro told Square Enix last year, further cementing his love for gut-wrenching storylines that lean towards abject existentialism.
[Ed. note: This article contains spoilers for the Neon Genesis Evangelion franchise]
While the upcoming Evangelion series will inevitably build upon the franchise’s astonishing 30-year legacy, Taro and Tsurumaki have their work cut out for them. The immediate concerns are obvious: Evangelion has always been inseparable from Anno’s personal legacy, including his lifelong struggles and creative obsessions. A more pressing doubt arises from the ending of Evangelion: 3.0+1.0 Thrice Upon a Time, which effectively shatters the cyclical nature of the saga, with our protagonist, Shinji Ikari, rewriting the world. This “neon genesis,” or new beginning, occurs after Shinji is spared the burden of sacrifice to recreate the world without Evas. This allows characters like Mari Makinami and Kaworu Nagisa to live in a world without pain, and the franchise’s various child soldiers get to grow up and live happy lives together. This is an incredibly cathartic way to close out a story that has been shaped by the alienation of its characters; Shinji and his friends are able to transcend fate to taste true freedom.
Evangelion: 3.0+1.0 Thrice Upon a Time might’ve wrapped things up with a neat, hope-tinged bow, but it is also the most nihilistic entry in the Rebuild tetralogy. Everything we know about Evangelion up until that point ramps up in complexity, including Shinji’s relationship with his father, Gendo Ikari. The ordeal of facing one’s kin and seeing one’s own isolation reflected in them is terrifying, and the connecting thread between Shinji and Gendo crystallizes when, after a lifetime of abusing his son emotionally, Gendo sacrifices himself to save Shinji. This emphasizes Shinji’s need to escape the next cycle even before it begins. The only way to ensure this is to create a world without Evas, a world where children like Shinji aren’t forced to sign their autonomy over or pay for the sins of their fathers.
The beauty and terror that Evangelion: 3.0+1.0 Thrice Upon a Time evokes cannot be replicated. After all, it weaves an arc of liberating self-acceptance in a way that proves that the story doesn’t need to continue. That said, Anno’s impulse to return to the same epic time and again probably means it’s doomed to do just that. In 2024, Anno expressed the desire to hand over a future Evangelion sequel to “someone other than [himself]” with the promise of the next director receiving “a high degree of freedom.” From a pragmatic standpoint, the continuation of Evangelion is hardly surprising, as the series has already been subject to franchise commodification, where its iconography has been plastered over varying merchandise. The marketability feels inescapable, even if Anno has never been one to compromise with artistic integrity or vision. We can only hope that Taro and Tsurumaki won’t either.
Taro’s talents as a writer (and his reverence for Evangelion) undoubtedly inspire confidence. His penchant for layered storytelling that wields the full force of human emotions feels uniquely suited to the franchise, which needs radical reinvention if it wants to continue. Evangelion has already dabbled in what-if scenarios, showing the same characters trudging along a predestined path with slight (often significant) variations. While Taro might tap into this time-tested formula to reboot the saga, he is also the perfect individual to play around with abstract, non-linear structures that offer a fresh perspective on a familiar story. Whatever he does with Evangelion, it will inevitably contradict the events of Evangelion: 3.0+1.0 Thrice Upon a Time, but this new series also carries with it the tender hope of something special.
The absence of Anno’s direct involvement in the new series feels like a double-edged sword. The distinct psychosexual overtones of Evangelion boil down to Anno’s interpretation of Jungian and Freudian baggage, which manifests as Shinji’s inner turmoil. He suffers from a constant fear of abandonment which intersects with an often messy exploration of adolescent sexuality. Then there is, of course, the posthumanist portrayal of the giant mechs piloted by these troubled teenagers. But what does Evangelion look like without these kinds of hyperfixations? Or rather, will Evangelion feel the same with someone else reinventing these dense themes as it embarks on a new trauma-laden epic? The answers are hardly simple.
It’s too early to know what the new Evangelion has in store for us. But its arrival is marked by a never-ending cycle of interpretation, which can be meaningful (and exciting) for those looking to acquaint themselves with the franchise’s sprawling mythos. For longtime enthusiasts of Anno’s saga, the upcoming anime might just prove to be a pleasant surprise that justifies its neon genesis.
