The End(ings) of Evangelion

The last three minutes of Hikeaki Anno’s 1997 film, The End of Evangelion are… a lot. The film ends with a nearly wordless conversation, set against silence were it not for the waves crashing in the background.

Shinji and Asuka wake up on a beach after Shinji decided to free humanity from instrumentality.

Shinji then begins choking her. He breathes and shakes with exertion while her eyes bulge and her neck caves in. After a moment, Asuka’s right hand rises, not in retaliation, but to softly caress the side of Shinji’s face while he stares with a horrified expression. Shinji starts to sob as he releases her, and she remains stoic and silent for a beat before snapping her gaze upon him and verbally expressing her disgust.

The movie then ends very abruptly.

I’ve seen this scene interpreted in a lot of ways. Some people see it as Shinji testing to see if instrumentality is truly over by proving the existence of another through rejection. Others see it as direct continuation of their earlier conversation where Shinji chokes Asuka after she rejects him. Or some people say that this is proof that Shinji has learned nothing or that he just went craaaazy from instrumentality.

Asuka’s reaction can also be read in different ways. Between the symbols in the film and emotional context of everything that’s happened to her, it can feel like acceptance without forgiveness, a desire for connection, or another rejection competing with the hope of acceptance.

There is some overlap between a few of these, and whatever your reaction is depends a lot on your interpretation of the movie as a whole.

And this movie is a hard watch. It’s stark, it’s gory, vile and unpleasant. It’s heartbreaking and stressful and deeply unsettling both in its visuals and its themes of isolation and depression. It’s also surreal, off-putting, and kind of confusing on the first watch. While End of Evangelion is usually described as an action drama, I would also consider it a horror movie through and through, and a masterpiece within that genre. It’s not conventionally scary, but it is burned into my brain. Especially that last scene.

But let’s back up for a second.

When I was in my early twenties, I decided to go through this binge of classic 90’s anime. So, obviously Neon Genesis Evangelion was on that list even though I didn’t actually think I would like it. Evangelion fans (including me) have a habit of making this series sound way more incomprehensible than it actually is. But then I watched it and…most of it is pretty straightforward, and I actually fell in love with the show from episode one. I still consider it to be one of the best written and best directed shows out there. Then of course the last two episodes arrived, and through the insidious magic of cultural osmosis, what I thought going in was “okay, the last two episodes are incomplete because of production issues or something, so they will not make sense. However, there is a movie that is complete, and will make sense.” So, I very stupidly watched episodes 25 and 26 without really paying attention. I literally sat there like “oh haha, look at how nothing is happening and this is all really weird and bad.” I just did not absorb a single thing, because in my mind this wasn’t really the ending. So, a few days later I sat down to watch The End of Evangelion, and I looked forward to seeing a much clearer, less surreal ending that was more in line with the tone of the first 24 episodes of the show.

Yeah, the film was so far off from what I was expecting that it kind of traumatized me. A lot. I could barely sleep that night and the next day that scene of Shinji choking Asuka on the beach would not leave my brain no matter how badly I wanted it too. I hated the movie at that point. I was frustrated at the lack of closure and just felt gross about the whole ordeal. The film is so harsh I felt like it hated me, which, maybe it kind of does, seeing as it was at least partially created after the negative fan response to the tv finale.

But after taking the time to let the film actually sink in and reading about all of the different messages people took from it (both from people who liked it and people who hated it)…ummm…it actually became my favourite movie? Of all time?

I also had a shift in perspective after re-watching the last two episodes of the show, properly this time. That really helped me put everything together.

And yeah, I’ve become one of those people who will play defense for the TV ending. There are even a few things about it that I think are better than the film. Rei’s arc feels much more complete and satisfying in the TV ending, and Misato’s character feels more fleshed out. And even though it is extremely easy to meme on the whole “congratulations,” thing, the actual emotional weight of Shinji learning that he needs to internalize self-acceptance instead of automatically believing that everyone else hates him is really touching. Like, I kind of get teary when the piano version of “A Cruel Angel’s Thesis” plays.

I do technically prefer End of Eva just because I think it’s more entertaining to watch, but at the same time it is also harder to watch, so your mileage may vary.

While we’re comparing these two endings, I want to talk about how they relate to each other. Obviously, they could be seen as alternate endings, which, you know, they are technically, but I’m one of those people who don’t think they exist in their own bubbles. I think they’re the same ending just told in very, very different ways with very different tones. 25 and 26 focus on the internal workings of everyone’s mind when humanity joins together, while End of Eva focuses on what’s literally happening in the world and only delves into the arthouse element when instrumentality hits. They both focus on the theme of escapism in response to pain and ultimately end with Shinji rejecting instrumentality even though he initially desired it. They touch on the fact that everyone has varied and often inaccurate perceptions of themselves and other people, but that people ultimately need connection and love to feel whole. The tv ending is sweet while the movie ending is bitter, but the emotional dilemma is the same in both. I honestly think they’re the perfect companion piece, like two different instrumental sections of one song. I think the tv ending is technically more important for understanding the themes and characters of the show but the movie ending puts that into a context.

I also just want to say that the show as a whole is just a brutal and beautiful exercise in empathy. I’ve seen a lot of people talk about how the show hits really hard when you’re in a kind of dark place while watching it. Seeing a bunch of characters struggle with depression, self-loathing, genuine trauma, and suicidal ideation only to decide that their lives are worth living can be a really moving experience when your trapped in your own dark thought spiral.

So.

Why am I making this post?

Well, it’s because I just watched the final movie in the Evangelion rebuild series and…well…

My plan while I was watching the movie was to make a sort of “Here’s-Why-The-Rebuild-Ending-Is-Inferior” video, since the movie was really not impressing me. But then when I hit this scene of Asuka and Shinji talking on this beach, I realized that I don’t care. Like, at all. I have no strong feelings towards this movie, not even hatred. I mean, there’s some stuff I liked, and I think it’s better than the third one. I liked the characterization of Kensuke and Toji as adults, and I liked that this version of the end really dives into the parallels between Shinji and his father. But overall, I found the first half trite, the action scenes boring and noisy, the lore even more confusing than the original series, and nothing really resonated with me emotionally. There. That’s it. That’s my review of Thrice Upon a Time. Like and subscribe for more thrilling analysis.

The point I’m trying to make is that I don’t think people are going to be talking about the rebuild films 25 years from no. I could be wrong; I can’t predict the future, but I just can’t see it.

Meanwhile, myself and many others cannot and will not shut up about this cartoon from over two decades ago. Whether you love it or hate it, or have strong opinions on one or both of its endings, it’s kind of impossible not to talk about. Because so much is up to interpretation, people are desperately compelled to both share what they saw in the series, and to understand what other people saw in the series. And because it’s such a relentless tour de force of storytelling and has such universal themes, it continues to stay culturally relevant.

This post doesn’t really have as much structure or much of a point compared to my other videos, and that’s because…I just wanted to talk about the two original endings of Neon Genesis Evangelion. Because it’s important to me. Because this scene of Shinji inflicting and experiencing pain while being tenderly touched on the cheek lives in my head constantly and I can’t not talk about it.

So…yeah. Go watch NGE.

I Can’t Stop Thinking About The Magnus Archives Finale

A few months ago, I made a long-ish post in which I talked about The Magnus Archives and what it accomplishes in terms of effective storytelling. In said video, I talk about how I liked the ending because it was a combination of grim and optimistic; the bad guys technically win, but there’s a chance that things work out. I don’t really think I’m wrong, but a few weeks after posting that video, I kind of went insane, because I had an epiphany in regards to what the ending is actually about, and I didn’t get a chance to talk about it in that video, so I’m talking about it now.

Ok, so in the original post, I said that the main themes in The Magnus Archives were exploitation and people becoming worse versions of themselves for various reasons both inside and outside of their control. However, I did just kind of briefly skim over how all of this relates to choice, which was very dumb of me, because that’s what the entire finale is based around.

So, let’s back up;

The Web is and always was the actual main antagonist of the series. Jonah Magnus is the primary visible antagonist, but he was always just one of their puppets who benefited greatly from their goals. Since one of The Web’s main sources of terror is the undermining of people’s free will, it would make sense that the crux of their plan would rely on someone else making a choice for their benefit. And by someone, I mean Jon.

When Jon chooses to release the fears, deciding to forgo his revenge on the Powers and reject the Eye completely, it is because of the emotional bond he has with Martin, and vice versa.

Jon made that decision even though it benefitted the antagonist, and basically played right into their hand, but it was his decision….

Now let’s talk about the web lighter.

One of the factors that ultimately led to the Web’s victory way down the line was Jon giving Georgie the web lighter long before he went up to face Jonah Magnus, thus giving them the power to destroy the archives before he can carry out his plan of sending everyone to End domains. Upon reflection, I feel like it’s not a coincidence that the transference of a web aligned object indirectly led to their plan succeeding, and I then I started to think that their plan maybe also hinged on Jon’s desire to protect and be with Martin. Annabelle already admitted in 196 that Web’s plans had to be adjusted because of the bond between the two men, so it kind of makes sense for that bond to be factored into their new approach.

So, the question I originally wanted to pose in this video was “was the ending a cleverly plotted evil scheme or the result of two men loving each other and embracing a hopeful outcome?” To which the clever answer would be “well, it’s both!” But the more I thought about it, even that feels like a weird oversimplification. I don’t necessarily think it’s an incorrect assessment, but this whole concept seems to reach so far beyond just episode 200.

Here are some excerpts from Annabelle’s statement in 147:

So maybe the real question is; how much of the ending can actually be directly attributed to the Web, and I really don’t think that question has a simple or concrete answer.

And don’t get me wrong; the Web very obviously had direct involvement. They marked Jon when he was young, gave him the Web lighter in the first place, etc.

But because so much of the Web is reliant on the butterfly effect and also isn’t always 100% correct about their predictions (for example: Martin didn’t become a Web avatar and then developed a more complicated bond with Jon,) it’s actually pretty ambiguous how much of the series was an actual part of their plan, and how much is paranoia on the part of the characters and the audience.

That paranoia being the Web’s main thing.

And while we’re talking about the Web and whether or not free will exists, I want to touch on the theme of addiction, which I also kind of glossed over in the previous video.

Addiction is a fear directly associated with the Web, and this is made explicitly clear in episodes 147 and 172. It makes sense; if you’re addicted to a substance, maybe you do genuinely want to stop taking it, but your body craves it and possibly depends on it if you’re of danger of serious withdrawal. The metaphor within the series would be Jon’s need to take statements from people in season four, even though it harms those people. He on some level wants to stop doing it, but he continues because he craves them and going without them would cause him genuine harm.

Jon initially wants to blame the Web or the Eye and say that they were mind controlling him into doing it, but that was not the case. He was making those choices on his own. They were his choices. But also…were they? Because it’s not like being an Eye avatar is a life that Jon wanted.

This theme as a whole is summed up by Elias in episode 92. It’s honestly best and most important line in the series.

This applies to everything. Working at the institute, drinking people’s fear, being the Archivist, and letting the fears go in the finale. Jon didn’t want any of that, but in some way shape or form, those were the result of his choices.

And this applies to other characters too, in a lot of ways. Basically everyone who worked in the institute was stuck making choices that they didn’t really want to make.

People in the real world make choices all the time that they probably don’t really want to make, but they feel like they have to for the sake of their job, for the sake of other people, or other factors outside of their control like addiction, mental illness, poverty. Life is a series of choices with unforeseen consequences, and I think The Magnus Archives really captures that.

So…yeah. Those are my final thoughts on The Magnus Archives.

Thank you for bearing with me a second time.

How to Write a Horror Story: The Magnus Archives

I’ve seen a lot of mystery shows in my day, and some supernatural shows, and the common thread between them is that they kind of…fall apart as they go on. 

Obviously, this is a generalization and I haven’t seen every mystery show or every paranormal show, but it’s a pretty common problem. 

At this point in pop culture criticism, it’s basically common knowledge that these shows fall apart due to a lack of planning. If a mystery series is making shit up as it goes along while trying to surprise the audience, it’s going to stop making sense at some point. And if an episodic paranormal show is constantly trying to up the stakes, eventually it’s going to become absolutely ridiculous and stretch the audience’s suspension of disbelief past a breaking point. 

Other people have already talked about this stuff to death, but today I want to talk about a paranormal mystery show that actually succeeds at what it set out to do.  

The Magnus Archives is a podcast written by Jonny Sims and directed by Alexander J. Newall. It ran from 2016 to 2021 and it’s…really really good. It’s an episodic horror story, taking place at the fictional Magnus Institute where the head archivist reads various statements about people’s encounters with supernatural entities. It’s got it all; scary stories, mystery, an overarching plot, office comedy, office romance, office tragedy, a villain that’s making straight men everywhere question their sexuality, and an overall really solid structure. 

If you listen to the Q+As put out by the writer and director, you’ll hear them talk about how they planned the series from the beginning, setting up the layout for each season. Some things were definitely changed throughout the actual writing process; that’s just inevitable and necessary when you’re working on a long running show, but in a general sense, they knew where they were going. But, writing a good story doesn’t just involve knowing where you’re going; it’s about executing whatever plan you have effectively. And I think the execution of The Magnus Archives is pretty brilliant, so I want to talk about it. 

And for the record, I said “brilliant,” not “perfect.” I do have a lot of criticisms of this show, and I’m definitely going to talk about those too, because honestly? Even the problems with this show are interesting in their own right. 

Ok, let’s go. 

Oh, spoilers by the way. For the whole plot. Whole thing. 

Part 1: Horror and Mystery 

Ok, so The Magnus Archives has two separate plots going on: the episodic stories that can be listened to individually, and the underlying meta plot. The former is where most of the mystery storytelling takes place, and it’s a really engaging mystery. It’s starts off slow, and almost undetectable at first. The main character, Jon, also known as The Archivist, is just reading out old scary stories that people have delivered to the Magnus Institute. Stuff like; a college student sees a ghostly inhuman figure asking for a cigarette, a woman’s fiancé dies and she finds herself trapped in an empty graveyard, there’s this goth kid who apparently murdered his mother and then skinned her? But she’s kind of still alive? What the fuck? Hope we never see that kid again. Also, this “Jurgen Lietner” guy wrote a bunch of cursed books and Jon knows about this? Are more books gonna come up? And then you’re like, wait is the goth kid who killed that burn victim the same goth kid who killed his mom like 8 episodes ago? Holy shit the family of that girl’s dead fiancé FUNDS THE MAGNUS INSTITUTE? Did this famous youtuber meet one of the missing people from episode one? The goth kid is back and he’s looking for Leitner books? The name “Michael” has come up like 6 times? Are they all the same guy? I just—who the fuck is Jurgen Leitner? 

So yeah, as you can see, a lot of these stories connect in cool ways, and I’ve only mentioned like, 0.2 percent of all of those connections. Furthermore, these stories are told out of chronological order, and sometimes the same scenario appears in more than one statement, told from different perspectives. This asymmetrical storytelling and odd doling out of information creates a mystery that’s really interesting. It also makes for a great re-listen, since you can retroactively see what elements were set up before you even realized that they were going to come back.  

The audio format contributes to this too; you can’t just see that the table from episode three matches the pattern on the box in episode eight. You have to pick up on clues that were mentioned and pay attention to what people are describing, and it’s highly rewarding when the pieces all start to fit together. 

There is a bit of a downside to this though. Technically The Magnus Archives is a horror story first and a mystery second, and these two elements can mesh in weird ways. 

The horror is element is really strong. Each story is completely different, sometimes focusing on psychological horror, body horror, or supernatural versions of more primal fears like heights, darkness, enclosed spaces, etc. Basically, if you’re afraid of anything, there will be at least one episode of The Magnus Archives that gets under your skin. 

Jonny Sims can really sell his stories through both his writing and acting. He plays Jon, by the way, and plagiarized his own birth certificate for the character name. (For future reference, Jonny is the actor, Jon is the character). Overall, he’s really good at writing prose, and each narrator has a very distinct voice even though the large majority of the stories are being read by one character/actor.  

Obviously not every episode is a bull’s eye. Sometimes it’s due to the subjectivity when it comes to what you as an audience member are scared of, and occasionally it’s just weird writing decisions. I’m thinking specifically of episode 21 where the line “the sky ate him” is said, and it is the worst line in the entire show. The whole goddamn show. That’s it. That’s the number one worst line. 

But still, overall, the horror storytelling is incredibly solid, and some episodes even gave me brand new fears, like the unholy isolation of being in space, or the concept that someone you love could be replaced by someone completely different without you noticing.  

But here’s the thing; 

A lot of good horror is based on the absence of explanation. Most of the episodes that gave me the most visceral reactions of genuine terror come from the first two seasons, because that’s when the audience has the least amount of information. 

For example, in episode two, a really terrifying coffin is introduced. It’s creepy, it reacts very strangely to water for some reason, and appears to compel people to try opening it. By the end of the episode, the audience never finds out what’s in that coffin and that is a good thing. That is a huge part of what made that episode so unnerving.  

And then a few seasons later, we do find out what’s in the coffin, and to be fair the answer is both very creative and very scary, but it also takes a lot of the punch out of episode two. 

 No matter how fucked up your thing is, it’s not going to compare to whatever the audience can conjure up in their own mind after such a creepy set up. This problem isn’t just stuck in this one scenario either; there are a lot of early episodes that, while still good, seem a lot less creepy in hindsight after you learn more about the scenario. 

I don’t think it’s bad writing, but I do think it’s a double-edged sword. Jonny Sims even mentions this sort of issue in the first Q+A. 

But yeah, to sum up; the narration is good, the ideas are creative, and seeing the mystery unfurl itself is deeply compelling. And for the record, the mystery elements aren’t of the Sherlock Holmes variety. It’s less about finding out who did the thing, and more about discovering how all of these individual points are intricately connected, pulling on each other as they move. Woven together like a… oh shit what’s the word? Gah, it’s on the tip of my tongue. Ah, whatever, I’m sure it’s not like a running motif or anything.  

Part 2: Stakes 

One of the main reasons I stopped watching Supernatural is that it devolves into complete fucking nonsense. At the end of season five, the boys literally defeat the devil, and then the show…keeps going? Which would be fine. It’s also, largely, an episodic show, so if they have more creative ideas, they could definitely keep going with it. In fact, there are some post season five episodes that I thought were pretty good. But as they kept trying to outdo themselves with Bigger Bads, it got kind of difficult to suspend my disbelief. And the final nail in the coffin for me was the end of season nine, when Crowly basically points out to the audience that the main characters keep dying and coming back to life, so there are no stakes. The most-badest bad guy can always be defeated because some new Thing can just come out of left-field, and dying isn’t even on the table as a threat since people have tons of ways of coming back to life. 

The Magnus Archives, while being a show based in the supernatural, notably doesn’t bring anyone back to life, even though some very beloved characters die. I say “notably,” because in the season three Q+A, Jonny even says, “We make a point not to bring people back from the dead in Magnus, I know it sometimes feels like that, but we are very careful to never actually resurrect anyone.” 

Upon listening to this I said “oh my god, these guys are the only writers left who at least kind of know what they’re doing.”  

Also, as far as plot progression goes, The Magnus Archives is lowkey structurally perfect in the way the threats escalate in the underlying plot; both in terms of destruction and power and in terms of emotional consequences. Season one starts off with one major threat that’s dealt with by the end of the season, season two reveals the main villain, season three lays out the grander forces at play, season four ends the world, and season five is about un-ending the world. The difference between season one and season five is vast, but how we got there makes perfect sense. 

As for the emotional stakes, let’s talk about themes and characters. 

Part 3: Themes and Characters 

At the very end of season two, it’s revealed that the supernatural happenings in the Magnus universe are the result of entities far beyond our understanding. Since their existence is so fundamentally different from what we can comprehend, they interact with the world through cursed items, creatures, and humans who have dedicated themselves to an entity.  

A lot of people read this as a metaphor for late-stage capitalism, and I am one of those people. A bunch of faceless entities exploiting humans through means of dehumanization and causing people to suffer because it feeds them seems like an appropriate metaphor. 

While we’re on this topic, I do want to talk about Elias, since he’s the main villain of the entire series and also one of my favorite villains of all time. The Magnus Archives is a series that deals with a lot of moral questions and has a lot of characters who do morally questionable things, so one might assume that the villain of said series is, you know, morally ambiguous and sympathetic to some extent despite being “the bad guy.” 

Nope! No stops, full bastard. It’s great. 

He falls under what I’ve deemed the “unbeatable boss” archetype. He just doesn’t tolerate insubordination or resistance, and that combined with his lack of empathy means that anyone who crosses him is either killed or brought to heel. His power set is cool too. On the surface the ability to see out of any eye and read minds sounds useful, but not deal breaking, but the way he uses that power to manipulate people and anticipate threats…yeah, it makes him kind of impossible to beat.  

He’s just…so evil and he loves being evil and every single fucking thing he does pisses me off and makes me want to kill him. It’s. Great. 

Anyways, I think Elias’s role as the central antagonist is what makes the capitalist reading so common. He’s the head of the institute, he’s wealthy, he’s powerful, and he dehumanizes people in ways that are both brutal and chillingly indifferent. He seems like an appropriate stand in through that lens. 

I also love how voice actor Ben Meredith plays him like’s he’s trying to seduce the audience.  

With all of that said, I wouldn’t call this the critique of capitalism a direct allegory or anything; in much looser terms, this could be a metaphor for any power structure that exploits humans. Organized religion or cults might be even more on the nose, considering there’s a lot of mentions of rituals and worship within the show. 

But if we boil it down to its barest aspects and focus on the avatar characters, The Magnus Archives is a series about people becoming monsters. Or, at the very least, becoming worse versions of themselves. That can mean a lot of things to different people in a metaphorical sense; the tense relationship between desperation and morality, the eagerness to please at the cost of one’s own mental health, the psychological traumas that lead people down dark paths, and how personal choices can still be dictated and manipulated by outside influences. It’s kind of heavy stuff, but put into a digestible package through the show’s abstractions. 

Well, for the most part.  

There’s some debate as to whether or not Daisy’s arc was handled tastefully. While her demise and Basira’s character arc were clearly meant to condemn police brutality and the deeply corrupt system that allows it to foster, it’s still a weird subject to discuss in such a fantastical context, and there is a strange sympathy for the devil angle that can get kind of uncomfortable for some listeners.  

Okay, stepping back from that for a bit, let’s talk about Jon and how he fits into this whole “people becoming corrupted” thing. 

Jon has one of my favorite brands of character arc, which is one based in deterioration alongside growth. The most obvious way this takes form is his departure from humanity as his relationship with the Eye drives him to psychologically harm others, and he finds himself sympathizing more and more with the people he was afraid of, stating in episode 152 that anyone listening to his recordings might compare him to the other avatars that have had their minds and morals twisted. 

Over the course of the series, he is repeatedly traumatized and the show makes a point that he is being both physically and emotionally scarred. These happenings are what drive his motivation for revenge in season five, and he even states that revenge is making him a worse person. As a character he’s constantly berating himself and his own monstrousness, much to Martin’s dismay.  

That’s why the finale destroys me in the best way. Upon seeing that Jon has betrayed him and basically given himself over to the Eye, Martin asks “how much of you is even left?” And when Jon tries to reassure him that he’s still himself, Martin’s response is “how would you even know?” This cuts through me every time. Up until this point, Martin had consistently stood up for Jon and Jon’s humanity, even in the face of Tim’s doubt, Basira’s mistrust, Elias being cryptic, and Jon’s own self-hatred. This is the ultimate breaking point, the point where even Martin, the love of Jon’s life, doesn’t really recognize him. It’s brutal. Because at the end of the day, Jon is still himself; he’s a deeply broken person trying to make the right decisions.  

We’ll come back to the finale later, but for now I want to talk about the romance. 

Jon’s emotional growth throughout the series is largely tied into Martin. Martin’s the first person that Jon really opens up to, and this later grows into trust which then turns into a genuine emotional connection.  On the flip side, Martin’s growth in season four is largely tied into Jon. Martin starts season four basically waiting to die, but Jon’s return gives him a reason to keep living, and he’s later able to recognize his own value outside of the pure utility of ‘you need to set yourself on fire to keep everyone else warm.’ Both of them give each other reason to push onward despite everything becoming more and more hopeless.  

It’s a good romance. I wish the two had had a few more scenes together before the culmination, but it is built up over the course of four seasons and comes together in an utterly fantastic confession.  

And yeah, the scene with Martin and Jon in the Lonely is cheesy as hell, but it is the highest quality of cheese. These are some gourmet nachos.  

Umm, also kind of stating the obvious here, but it’s also pretty cool that the main character in this horror story falls in love with another man. You don’t see that a lot, and it’s cool that no one even makes a big deal out of it. It’s just a normal romance, but with two guys. It’s nice. 

So, they go to Scottland, they hang out, they’re in love, Jonalias starts the apocalypse through Jon, the world ends, and season five starts! 

…Let’s talk about season five! 

Part 4: Season 5 

At the very start of this post, I said that supernatural mysteries tend to get worse as they go along, and I am deeply sad to report that I don’t think that The Magnus Archives is an exception. It just goes downhill in a very different way than its ilk. 

And, so we’re clear, I don’t think season five totally tanks or becomes unlistenable, it’s just, in my opinion, notably worse than the rest of the show. 

As discussed earlier, it doesn’t fall apart due to a lack of planning; everything still makes sense, but the presentation has changed drastically. The episodic statements are no longer scary stories, but more like slam poems about the various hellscapes that Jon and Martin are trekking through. Honestly if these were published in a book of slam poetry, I would probably think they slapped pretty hard. I genuinely believe that Jonny Sims is a good writer, but as a podcast a lot of these statements just made me zone out. There’s at least four that I don’t even slightly remember. Myself and many others have noted that they just…aren’t scary, unless there’s a specific episode that really gets under your skin due to a certain fear or phobia. 

To quote my friend, “it’s harder to feel a solid impact when the setting is literally divorced from reality. People would either go numb or insane to the point where their fears become unrelatable.” 

And, to be honest, I think that this same surreal odyssey set up could have worked with a slight shift in narration. Two stand out episodes for me were “Strung Out” and “Wonderland.” Both of them show the tormented target actively trying to resist and interact with their tormenter, instead of just trying to escape or live through their situation. “Strung Out” is also more of character study; you learn about Francis’s life before the apocalypse through their interaction with the Web hellscape. Meanwhile “Wonderland” is just…fucked, and you get to see Jon take the perspective of first-person Bad Guy throughout the whole thing, which is its own level of disturbing. 

But the majority of episodes feel so abstract that I kind of forget the people trapped in them are supposed to be characters and not just concepts, so it’s harder to feel their dread and pain. 

But I’m still here for the metaplot, the drama, and the romance. And when that’s good, it’s great! I think the final handful of episodes are really solid in that regard. 

Buuuuuuut… 

A decent chunk of season five is dedicated to the “kill bill” plot. Jon discovers he has the power to smite people, and while at first, he’s embarrassed about this, since he actively enjoyed killing Not!Sasha, Martin is super into it! He’s encouraging Jon to murder people.  

This is actually the set up for a really good arc. As Jon gets more and more into his own avenging angel persona, Martin could get more and more disturbed by it so by the time they get to London, Martin could be really upset that Jon is so willing to wreak his own divine justice by killing or torturing all of the avatars. 

And this does kind of happen. We do reach this end state, and it makes for a good final conflict, but the way we got here was borderline nonsense. Thematic gibberish, if you will. 

Throughout the journey, Martin is clearly motived by a sense of justice; these people are bad, and so they should die. Whereas Jon is clearly more motivated by revenge; he only goes after the avatars that hurt him personally. At one point, Jon admits that maybe all of this killing isn’t making anything better, but just making him worse. Martin apologizes for egging him on, Jon absolves him by saying he started it, and then Martin’s like “I’ll keep my apology then.” This is the second worst line in the entire series, right after “the sky ate him.” And it’s close. 

But it kind of feels like we’re back at square one. Jon is back to being ashamed of killing and Martin is still keen on his justice stance, but now just less pushy about it. The arc is basically half resolved at this point. 

But then it doesn’t matter, because Jon kills Helen anyway. So, Jon’s back on his revenge/justice thing. Then what was the point of his earlier revelation? Why have that if it’s not going to matter and the conflict that was escalating still culminates with Jon leaning into the avenging angel stuff, and Martin being disturbed by it? It just makes both of them look like huge hypocrites! I fucking hate it when they’re in the tunnels and Martin says “you weren’t meant to enjoy it this much,” regarding Jon’s smiting. Where did this come from?! Why didn’t you say this earlier? Third worst line in the series. 

And yeah, I’ll say it; the boys fight too much in this season. I loved their romance up to season five, and their cute moments and more lowkey serious discussions are still good in this season, but God, they fight so much. And I’m not saying couples can’t have fights or tension, that’s just realistic and also stories need conflict to be interesting. Jonny Sims is on the record saying that balancing a healthy romance with the stress of a literal apocalypse was a priority, and I’m sorry, but I don’t think it’s well balanced.  I’m just saying that sometimes it feels like they don’t even like each other and it really started to grate on me. 

Maybe it would have been better if the beginning of this season was dedicated to charming romance at first, so we as an audience could better appreciate how strong their love is and how it’s truly being tested. But obviously that was never on the table— 

ALEX NO. 

So, yeah, I have a lot of problems with season. I think it’s the worst one by far, even though there is a lot of it I still enjoy, including the ending. 

As I mentioned before, the moment where Martin confronts Jon in the panopticon absolutely kills me, and Jon’s reaction kills me even harder. Throughout the season, Jon had largely been motivated by revenge, martyrdom, and the subconscious call of the Eye, and all three of those factors led him to his position as the pupil. He’s getting revenge against the powers, sacrificing his humanity to get rid of the Fears, and taking his place as wearer of the watcher’s crown. But all of this gets thrown out the window when he realizes that Martin is going to die. And not only is Martin going to die, Martin is going to die specifically because he loves Jon and refuses to leave Jon alone to die horribly. Martin had always been an underlying motivation for Jon, his “reason” as stated in episode 167, but now love as a motivator has come to the forefront, and Jon can no longer go through with his plan because of it. But at this point in the series, they’re both utterly doomed, and Jon concludes that the only possible chance they have of surviving, however unlikely, would be to sever the pupil of the eye, technically killing Jon, but maybe, just maybe, allowing them to escape with the Fears. Whether that’s meant to be literal or more ethereal is left unclear. Hell, maybe Jon’s just making it up completely and creating his own potential happy ending. It’s a pretty potent ending in emotional terms; Jon has to release the Fears and Martin has to kill Jon, and those are the two things they were dead set on not doing.  

The Web, arguably the real main antagonist, basically won, and their manipulation of Jon worked. The destruction spread, and there is kind of a bleak underlying tone to that. 

But at least this ending has some semblance of hope to it. I’m not saying that releasing the Fears was objectively the correct moral decision; the entire point of the dilemma is that there was no objectively correct moral decision. But, while Jon’s solution does have merit, it was also the most hopeless. I think dramatically, any one of the choices on the table could have worked if the writing was well executed, but thematically this one seemed like the perfect combination of grim and optimistic. Like, all of the evils that plague humanity can’t just be defeated forever and things could get worse, but maybe not. Maybe everything works out… 

So yeah, The Magnus Archives…is a podcast. And it’s a really good podcast. Great, even. I can complain about season five all I want, but regardless of how that worked out, you can tell throughout the entire show that the people working on it were trying to tell a genuinely excellent story. 

It’s good. Go listen to it. Even though I spoiled the entire thing and if you’re still here, you’ve probably already listened to it. Listen to it again. 

Is The Promised Neverland Overrated?

Normally, I wouldn’t make a post about a show that I didn’t have strong feelings about, but I find it a little surprising that The Promised Neverland is being so highly and consistently praised as some sort of can’t miss masterpiece. I can totally see where those people are coming from and I think it’s a valid perspective, but I just…don’t feel that way, so I wanted to share a different perspective.

And by the way, this post is only about the anime adaptation. I haven’t read the manga, and I’m sure there will be a bunch of comments about how “the manga is way better” and “the future chapters totally discredit all of my arguments”, but I’m not looking at it through that lens. I’m just judging it as though it is the first season of a tv show, because the property should be able to stand on its own two feet without the source material.

Also this post is gonna be full of spoilers, just so you know.

Right off the bat, it became pretty clear to me that the characters weren’t especially nuanced or interesting. The first like 3 quarters of episode one is just “aww man. We are a bunch of happy kids. We are so content and nice and we love our mom and everything thing is grea—oh shit!” And after the initial plot twist, the characters definitely exhibit more emotion, but I find the majority of them still exhibit few actual personality traits other than the core ones that fit their tropes. Norman is a super genius, Emma is sporty and optimistic, the other kids at the orphanage are just kinda there, but Don and Gilda have a bit more screen time. I found sister Krone kind of entertaining, but also kind of cringy with just how crazy she is. The exceptions to this pattern were Ray and Isabella, both of whom I found very interesting since episode one and they only became more so as the show went on. More on them later.

Now, not having the most nuanced characters ever isn’t inherently a huge flaw, especially for a 12 episode season. In one of my favourite shows, Hunter X Hunter, the characters start out very simple with motivations that are easy to understand. They only become more nuanced and interesting way later into the series. In another one of my favourite shows, Higurashi, all of the girls are pretty much interchangeable, other than a few quirks, and the specific motivations that set off their insanity. Good old HH survives on all of its wildly creative ideas and the and cool plot conceits, while Higurashi remains engaging by being the most interestingly told mystery story fucking ever.

At first, it looks like The Promised Neverland is gonna survive just fine based on its plot. It sets up a high stakes premise based in mysterious fantasy setting, which is rad and an obvious draw to audience members. But…eh. I personally felt like the coolest aspects of the setting were pretty much dropped by episode 2. The world building takes a pretty immediate back-seat to the mystery and it all takes place in this one location. I’m okay with that, but the mystery was communicated in a way I found incredibly unengaging. Some of the twists were really clever, but a lot of them just revolved around characters speculating about things, and then either being right or wrong. Or sometimes just seeing things and being like “oh…I guess we have to deal with this now.” It doesn’t have the same level of engagement as Sherlock Holmes stories or Higurashi, where the audience is working alongside the characters to figure out what’s happening. When I think back to watching the show, I remember some interesting things near the beginning, some interesting things near the end, and a loooot of talking in the middle that all kinda blends together, with some painfully obvious red herrings for good measure.

Now, based on how this first season ended, I have no doubt that there’s gonna be a lot more world building and intrigue as this series goes on, but as it stands the plot didn’t do a great job at carrying me through these first 12 episodes, so I’d still say that’s kind of a problem.

Another thing that kinda bothered me was the tonal dissonance between the general feeling of this show and what’s actually happening. This is a show in which the characters are super-duper geniuses. One guy can just figure everything out based on speculation and make posthumous plans because he’s just that smart. One guy fucking beat infantile amnesia and started a wild year-spanning convoluted plan culminating with his own suicide when he was a little kid. Also, there’s a scene where a bunch of 12 year olds EXPLAIN TO A 4 YEAR OLD that they’re all being raised as food and actually live in a demon infested dystopia where the mother they’ve all grown to love is actually a sick twisted woman who benefits from their death, and he just like, takes it. In a calm and logical manner.

This. Is. Pulpy.

This stuff is okay, as there are plenty of series out there that work with these kind of hyper-smart characters (the obvious example being Death Note), but that show at least seemed aware that its characters were deeply abnormal and had some fun with it. That show has some levity to it, too. It’s not always super serious. The Promised Neverland feels like a tone piece, since everything is gravely serious from the end of the first episode onward. But this hyper-serious and pseudo-gritty tone is undermined by the fact that the kids don’t act like real kids. Serious things are happening, but I can never take it as seriously as the show is taking it because the pulpy elements seem out of place in this type of tone piece.

Also, I have to say this now because it honestly drove me crazy. I legitimately kind of hate the way that Norman’s “adoption” played out. I’m totally okay with the concept of Norman dying, but the fact that it happened off-screen instantly killed me. It’s obvious that it’s meant to be ambiguous as to whether or not he actually died, and while I love me some ambiguity, I kind of knew that the show was gonna use this as an excuse for fake-outs, and as a kind of transparent excuse for the author to have the dramatic moment of a main character dying while not actually having to commit to that plot point. Maybe the eventual reveal as to whether or not Norman actually died will be utterly brilliant, but until the day it’s revealed I’m just gonna mentally check out during all of the scenes where Emma and Ray semi-hallucinate his existence.

Okay, so the plot and characters didn’t really do much for me, but the show definitely has themes about what people will do in order to survive, and maybe even themes about gender roles sprinkled in there. Alright, I can get into that. But, unfortunately, even though these are interesting ideas, they aren’t explored in much depth until like the last 5 minutes of the season finale. Much like the world building, I’m sure these themes will be explored in way more detail in future seasons, but even though I was intrigued, I wasn’t really engaged as a viewer.

Speaking of those last five minutes, the end of episode 12 really made me see everything I like and don’t like in this show. Isabella’s backstory really grabs hold of the themes I just talked about. It also shows some character depth and fleshes out the society that these people live in. It was great, and even made me tear up a bit. But while I was getting misty eyed at this scene of a woman’s entire life falling apart as she becomes a part of the system that broke her spirit, I thought about how much more effective this scene should be. Also in the 2019 winter season, I watched Mob Psycho season two, in which I cried like a baby when one character told someone they were a good person. I did not just get teary eyed; I cried. Because that show had so much build up, and nuance, and it was so easy to get invested in the lives of the characters because they’re interesting and you get to watch the happy and unhappy aspects of their lives and– look, I’m not saying the Promised Neverland should be more like Mob Psycho. They’re obviously two very different shows. In fact, it doesn’t need to be more like any of the shows I talked about, it just needed to be more of…something. I wanted it to carve its way into my brain in some way shape or form but it just…didn’t. But either way, I’ll watch season 2 to see where it goes from here, but if I continue to be unimpressed I’ll probably give it a drop.

Mob Psycho 100’s Mogami Arc (Manga vs. Anime)

Listen on youtube here.

So the fifth episode of Mob Psycho 100’s second season aired.

Let’s talk about it.

Before this episode aired, people who read the manga were all over social media warning people that this arc was hella dark and messed up shit happens, and also just hyping the hell out of it in general.

I’d never read the manga, but as a fan of intense stories and the horror genre, these rumblings got me really excited, especially since Mob Psycho 100 is one of my favourite shows.

So the episode aired and it was met with…a mixed reception.

A lot of the darker and bloodier scenes had been completely cut, disappointing manga fans and leaving some anime fans feeling cheated.

Now, I really, really liked the episode for reasons that I’m going to get into, but I would be lying if I said I wasn’t a little disappointed. I wanted all of the weird and fucked up stuff that the manga readers were talking about to happen because…I thought it was gonna happen.

I was so goddamn curious about this part of the manga, and after hearing people go on and on about how this arc wasn’t done justice, I decided to read chapters 59-67 (aka “The Mogami Arc”) to satisfy my curiosity and turn this into a research project.

So, I did.

Spoilers from here on out, by the way.

To an extent I understand why people wanted the darker stuff. For those of you who are curious, in the manga there was more violence, including a stabbing, more blood, images of a man hanging himself, and the murder of an innocent animal. While I feel these elements may have been over exaggerated by the fan base, they were still present in the manga and absent from the anime.

Some people have been arguing that by removing these elements, the final message about having courage and emotional strength in the face of intense pain is weakened. There’s also another camp arguing the exact opposite: that the anime still has a strong effect by focusing more on Mob’s development in the second half of the episode.

To both of these arguments I say…eh?

Like, the whole thing about a message being just as strong even though the contrasting build up is weaker is just…a strange perspective to me. That’s the whole idea behind contrast. Literally in this episode there’s a line saying “only in the darkest depths of fear does courage truly shine.” That’s…literally the point. If the idea of the Mogami arc is that Mob has a tremendous amount of empathy and the capability to see the good in bad people, then that point will be driven home more if the people are really bad. They can still be complex, but they have to inflict a type of pain that makes the audience say “oh god, I don’t want good things to happen to these people.”

Welcome to the world of moral complexity.

On the flip side, I don’t think having the bloodier and more intense parts taken out made that much of a difference.

There’s my contrarian opinion of the day.

Studio Bones probably had to censor some parts for the PG 13 audience, and they did. I don’t fault them for that, but I think there’s something waaaay more important to the build up in this arc that Bones dropped the ball on, and it’s the pacing.

In the manga, Mob is in hell. 6 months of utter fucking torment with no emotional support to get him through it. That shit is rough. In the anime, it’s still a 6 month time period, but the audience doesn’t quite feel the length of it, y’know?

The pacing of this episode has been mentioned in criticism, but I feel like few people have really discussed the actual problem here. The pacing issue wouldn’t necessarily be solved by giving this arc a higher episode count. Literally all you need to do to sell me on the fact that Mob has been in Mogami Land for a long ass time, and just saying “Mob has been in Mogami Land for a long ass time” doesn’t get that idea across very effectively.

In the manga, the line “for half a year” is given its own panel, a big font, and a stark black background. Then, it’s followed immediately by an empty looking Mob surrounded by the emotions that are plaguing him. There. You did it. You sold me on this length of time by emphasizing it with a well paced panel punch. It’s got more power in the manga. In the anime, Mogami just kind of states it off hand.

The anime also could have taken advantage of its medium by giving the audience a montage of Mob’s suffering. Again, if you sell me on Mob’s suffering I am more likely to believe that Mob is willing to kill a man in order to rid him of his stress and get revenge on those who wronged him.

Minor details like this can have a huge impact.

So, I do indeed think that the manga did a better job at making the Mogami arc emotional, especially in the build up. But it had almost nothing to do with the content and everything to do with the passage of time.

However:

Episode 5 is by no means bad. In fact it is waaaaaay outside the realm of bad.

It’s great. Is what I’m saying.

EDIT: I realized I forgot to say something really important.

If you watched this episode as a manga reader or someone who was hyped up and felt a little let down, watch it again. It’s actually a phenomenal episode of television for reasons that past me is about to describe. Once you see it for what it is and not what you thought it would be it’s just great.

Also, while I’m here, I just want to clarify my previous statement because I think I said it in a way that was kind of muddled. Basically, I think that the amount of torment that Mob goes through adequately convinces me that he would change his perspective on people even without the shock value stuff. I think the pacing has more disparity? Like in the manga it feels like months and in the anime it feels like a couple of days, even though they say it’s months. I hope that makes sense.

Back to the original post:

If we lived in a universe where the manga didn’t exist, I feel like the criticisms of this episode would stop at “it felt a bit rushed,” because the story, message, and holy shit the visuals, are out of the god damn park.

Season 4 of My Hero Academia is gonna look like shit because I’m pretty sure Bones bet the family farm on this episode.

On a related note, I don’t want to discredit One’s artwork. In all honesty, compared to the anime, I think his drawings in the Mogami arc did a better job at conveying the uncanny elements of the spirits and certain emotional expressions. However, the anime does a lot more with visual metaphor, comedy, and the bombastic impact of the final action scene. I also like the letterboxing and grey colour pallet added to Mogami Land. It was a nice touch and really made the blood stand out after Mob was beaten over the head. Great. Loved it.

I know some people like to argue that this kind of thing is “style over substance” but this is one of those perfect pieces where style is substance. The scratchy chaotic lines over Unknown Percent, the ethereal body that Mob takes on after defeating the spirits, the grand scale of the destruction, the fucking hilariously awesome reveal of Mob’s 100% courage form as like…a regular looking anime character.

Both the animation and the voice acting did wonders in the scene where Minori breaks down and apologizes to Mob after admitting that she’s a terrible person. Her voice really wormed its way into my soul and I felt that scene in the anime way more than I did in the manga. The close up details on her face added greatly to this effect.

Also, just throwing this out there, Dimple!Mob was fucking badass and his fight with Mogami!Minori had some of my favourite animation cuts…like, ever.

Alright, so those are my thoughts on this arc. Unfortunately this season of Mob Psycho is only slated to be thirteen episodes, which really sucks. After this season wraps up I’ll probably read the rest of the manga and we’ll see where we go from there.

This probably won’t be the last you hear from Mob Psycho on this channel.