CG – Bitch Flicks

This guest post by CG appears as part of our theme week on Dystopias.

Dystopian landscapes have begun to grow in popularity with audiences, particularly in film and literature. Franchises like The Hunger Games and The Walking Dead have given audiences this love affair with settings that include abandoned cities, constant threats of death, and the occasional love triangle in an attempt at normalcy. But what these popularized franchises have done is cloud our definition of what dystopian media can do. In fact, there has been dystopian media done before that called for us to embrace and examine how humanity is represented in these otherwise bleak landscapes.

With this, I call to you the brilliance of the Neon Genesis Evangelion franchise.

For those of you who are unfamiliar, Neon Genesis Evangelion refers to a franchise created by Hideaki Anno and Gainax Studios, going on to include a 25-episode anime, six films (including three reboots), and a 13-volume manga series. The franchise itself is incredibly popular, launching back in the 1990s and maintaining a steady fanbase ever since. What helps Evangelion continue to grow its popularity is not the focus on religious or sci-fi elements, but its commitment to showcasing the fragility of humanity through its flawed and destructive characters tasked with saving the world and themselves. And how does the franchise show this? By literally placing the future of what’s left of the world in the hand of dysfunctional and emotionally fragile children.

The story of Evangelion focuses on three 14-year-old pilots that control giant robots called Evangelion Units, as they battle monsters called Angels that threaten to destroy (what’s left of) the world. These Angels have already destroyed half of the world – the oceans have turned red, half of the world’s population has been killed. Some of the characters live with the consequences of the Second Impact – one character, Misato Katsuragi, tries to live with her guilt of directly surviving the Second Impact while her father does not.

The pilots of the Eva Units serve as the main characters of the franchise, and remain the gatekeepers to the internal conflict of the internal conflict of the franchise. The main character is Shinji Ikari – abandoned by his father who later asks him to pilot one of the Eva Units, Shinji revels in the feelings of guilt and unraveling that comes with feeling horribly inadequate to everyone around him. One of the episodes of the original anime is called “Hedgehog’s Dilemma,” focusing on a psychological condition that makes for Shinji’s insecurity to hinder him from getting close to others, for fear of further rejection. For Shinji, he reclaims some of that validation in the form of piloting the Eva. Like the other pilots, the Eva Units give him identity beyond his own limitations. Although, as we soon learn, it is not enough to allow them to completely escape.

The second pilot is Asuka Langley-Sohryu, a hotheaded and brash girl who clings to her title as an Eva pilot as a badge of honor. To Asuka, she revels in being needed and having purpose. But her overconfidence shadows a deeper hurt of fierce inadequacy. When her title as an Eva pilot is no longer enough to shield her from facing her fear of being useless, it quickly manifests into putting Asuka in further danger. In this unforgiving future, where the survival of humanity rests on the sounders of three teenagers, Asuka’s mental unraveling to be more dangerous that we would expect.

The final pilot is Rei Ayanami, a girl who is seen as emotionless and stoic. She follows orders without thought or individuality, and she has a strange connection to the Eva Units themselves, as well as to Shinji’s deceased mother, Yui. Rei is interesting in that she must learn to reclaim her individuality and importance as a person. She struggles to find meaning with being expendable.

The psychological stability of the pilots, as well as the adults that are supposed to be directing and guiding them, become paramount to the development and plot of Evangelion. It’s not simply the bleak landscape that draws out the despair in the characters; it is the drive of destruction that lingers on the tongue of everyone around. Shinji, Asuka, and Rei are left to salvage humanity out of the hopelessness that surrounds them.. and it makes for oddly addicting media.

Though the franchise explores other themes of faith, relationships, and tragedy – at its core, Neon Genesis Evangelion gives us a tale of searching for meaning and embracing the strength of flawed humanity, even when the situation is bleak.

CG is a writer, blogger, and fangirl from New Jersey. Most of her online writing can be found on her site (blackgirlinmedia.com).

This guest post by CG is part of our theme week on Bad Mothers.

Being a woman in today’s society means following a particular script. You are to: be a quiet, pleasant child. Discover boys by puberty. Get good grades, wear a sparkling prom dress. Have a college boyfriend. Marry said college boyfriend. Be a quiet homemaker, be pregnant, raise your children accordingly. But rarely, if ever, do we get a glimpse into what life means outside of this script – particularly after motherhood. What happens to these women who follow the script, who find themselves the proper example of what the script can mean – and what happens to those who choose to forge their own path, and mix life in with the order of the script?

It’s rare to find that there is life for women beyond motherhood. For this, I turn to one example that has shown the full humanity of post-maternal female agency. This is 2001’s Riding in Cars with Boys.

Riding in Cars With Boys is a journey story, first and foremost. Radical even today, the story follows Beverly “Bev” Delfrino (played by Drew Barrymore) as she stumbles her ways through life. Even at eleven, Bev displays her zest for life and the zing of excitement. She wants to be a writer. She wants to go to college and rub elbows with the elite. And most of all, she wants to be desired…by boys.

In one of the first scenes, Bev’s father is flabergasted as she tells him that what she really wants for Christmas isn’t a bike, but a bra, to impress a classmate that she likes.

This kind of boldness is cemented into Bev’s character as she grows older. Even when she is rejected at a high school party by yet another classmate she is pining over, she finds comfort in Ray, a guy who really doesn’t have much going for him but comforts our heroine. She then has unprotected sex with Ray in the backseat of a car.

It isn’t long before Bev finds herself pregnant. And while most stories would end here, or move the heroine to find some meaning in her pregnancy and motherhood, Bev rejects this. She continues being the same selfish, flamboyant lover of life that she is at the beginning of the film, despite the constant pressure from others in her life (particularly men) for her to conform. Her father, with whom Bev has a close relationship with, not only rejects her but kicks her out of the house when he finds out she is pregnant. Ray, who Bev marries out of necessity, remains a static character as well. He is a well meaning individual whose irresponsibility outweighs Bev’s. Between forgetting basic essentials to falling into a haze of drugs, Ray’s unreliability mirrors the same gender roles that move along the film.

It seems odd to praise a film like this, where the mother figure is such a notable “bad mother”, but that in lies the beauty of this film. Riding in Cars with Boys doesn’t negate or try to water down Bev. She remains an individual first and foremost, and the role of mother becomes secondary to that. And there are far and few media representations that allow women to embody themselves fully like this.

Bev is surrounded by men in the film – her father, Ray, her son Jason – and they all embody some part of the responsibility and gender roles that Bev is fighting against. Jason ends up being the voice of reason in the film, growing up feeling resentful and grateful for having Bev as a mother. In one of the final climax scenes of the film, we see Jason’s frustration bubbling over as he tells his mother “I raised you!” Bev’s reaction? To pout and throw a temper tantrum.

Do you see how great this is?

Riding in Cars with Boys showcases a humanity to women who are mothers that our media lacks. Women are constantly punished and depowered for their sexuality, and their motherhood status is often used as another way to control in media. We see this in everything from Scandal to Flowers in the Attic to Lizzy Bordon Killed a Man. Rarely are women granted that full spectrum of emotions and flaws in the way that men and men who are fathers are allowed to be. Bev Delfino proves that there is life beyond motherhood, and that a woman doesn’t stop being who she is once she has children.

Though this film came out in 2001, I still hope that more people can watch Riding in Cars with Boys and can see the importance of post-maternal female agency in our media.

CG is a writer, blogger, and fangirl from New Jersey. Most of her online writing can be found on her site (blackgirlinmedia.com).

Tag: CG

Dystopia Within ‘Neon Genesis Evangelion’

‘Riding in Cars with Boys’ and Post-Maternal Female Agency