Neon Genesis Evangelion Death and Rebirth: The Chaotic History of a Movie That Barely Existed

Neon Genesis Evangelion Death and Rebirth: The Chaotic History of a Movie That Barely Existed

If you were a fan of anime in the late nineties, you probably remember the absolute meltdown that happened when the original Neon Genesis Evangelion TV series ended. Episodes 25 and 26 were... well, they were a trip. No giant robots. No explosions. Just a lot of folding chairs, psychological sketches, and Shinji Ikari finally deciding that maybe existing isn't so bad after all. Fans were furious. Some sent death threats to Gainax; others just wanted to see the promised "Human Instrumentality Project" actually happen with, you know, a budget.

Enter Neon Genesis Evangelion Death and Rebirth.

Released in Japanese theaters in March 1997, this wasn't quite the "new ending" everyone was screaming for. Not yet, anyway. It was a weird, hybrid beast—half clip show, half teaser trailer—that served as a bridge between the TV show and the legendary The End of Evangelion. Honestly, it’s one of the most confusing releases in the history of the medium, not because the plot is hard to follow (though it is), but because its very existence was a result of Hideaki Anno and the team at Gainax running out of time. Again.

What Actually Is Death and Rebirth?

To understand this movie, you have to understand the mess behind the scenes. Originally, the plan was to release one movie that provided the "real" ending to the series. But the production was a disaster. Animators were overworked, the scope was too big, and the deadline was screaming toward them like a falling Angel. So, Gainax split the project.

The first half, Death, is a 60-minute recap. But it’s not a standard "here is what happened in episode one" kind of thing. It’s edited non-linearly, framed around a string quartet rehearsal at Tokyo-3 First Municipal Middle School. Shinji, Asuka, Rei, and Kaworu are playing their instruments in an empty auditorium. It’s haunting. It’s moody. It basically distills the soul-crushing trauma of the first 24 episodes into a fever dream.

Then you have Rebirth.

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This was the carrot on the stick. It’s the first 27 minutes of what eventually became The End of Evangelion. It stops right as the Mass Production Evas begin to circle over the GeoFront like vultures. Back in 1997, if you saw this in theaters, you walked out right as the action got good, forced to wait another few months for the actual finale. It was a brilliant, frustrating, and purely financial move.

The "Death" Evolution: True, True2, and Everything In Between

If you try to buy this on Blu-ray today, you’ll see different versions. It’s a headache.

First, there was Death(True), which aired on Japanese satellite TV. It cut out some of the new footage that had been created for the theatrical release. Then came Death(True)2, which added some of that stuff back in. This version is what you’ll usually find on Netflix or in modern box sets. The "Rebirth" segment is often omitted now because, frankly, why watch a 27-minute preview when the full End of Evangelion movie is sitting right next to it on the menu?

Most people don't realize that Death actually contains quite a bit of unique animation that wasn't in the original broadcast of the TV show. These shots were later integrated into the "Director's Cut" versions of episodes 21 through 24. If you've seen the scene where the Angel Arael mind-rapes Asuka to the tune of "Hallelujah," or the expanded conversation between Kaworu and Shinji by the lake, you've seen the DNA of Death.

Why Does This Movie Still Matter?

You might think it’s skippable. On paper, it is. But there is a specific vibe to Neon Genesis Evangelion Death and Rebirth that you can't get anywhere else.

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The string quartet framing device is genuinely beautiful. Seeing these four broken children—who never actually hung out like friends in the show—tuning their instruments together in a quiet, purgatory-like space is a powerful metaphor. It suggests a harmony they could never achieve in their real lives. Masayuki, who directed the Death portion, has an incredible eye for editing. He weaves the footage together based on thematic resonance rather than chronological order. It’s an experimental art film disguised as a recap.

The Production Nightmare

Let's talk about the reality of Gainax. In 1997, they were broke and exhausted. Hideaki Anno was in a dark place mentally, which is reflected in every frame of this franchise. The reason Rebirth is so short is that they literally couldn't finish the animation in time for the March release.

Think about that.

Fans paid full ticket prices to see a movie that ended on a "To Be Continued" screen. It’s legendary. It’s the kind of audacity you only see once in a generation. But it also proves how much pressure was on the studio to deliver. They were trying to redefine animation while the ceiling was caving in.

Watching It Today: A Practical Guide

If you are a newcomer to the series, you might be tempted to skip straight to the Rebuild movies or just watch the original 26 episodes and The End of Evangelion. That's fine. You'll get the story. But you'll miss the texture.

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Here is how you should actually approach Neon Genesis Evangelion Death and Rebirth if you want the full experience:

  1. Watch the TV Series first. Do not use this movie as a replacement. You will be hopelessly lost.
  2. Look for Death(True)2. It’s the most "polished" version of the recap.
  3. Pay attention to the music. This movie features "Soul's Refrain" (Tamashii no Refrain), which is arguably one of the best songs in the entire franchise. It didn't even appear in the final movie, but it’s inextricably linked to the Death and Rebirth era.
  4. Acknowledge the transition. Watch Rebirth even if you're about to watch End of Evangelion. The slight differences in sound mixing and the sheer tension of that "preview" cut create a different psychological state.

Honestly, the way people talk about Evangelion often ignores the sheer "event" status of these films. This wasn't just content. It was a cultural moment in Japan. People queued for blocks. The merchandise was everywhere. Death and Rebirth was the catalyst that turned a popular anime into a permanent fixture of global pop culture.

The Actionable Legacy

So, what do you do with this information?

If you're a collector, hunting down the original Manga Entertainment DVD of Death and Rebirth is a rite of passage. It has that gritty, 90s-era localization feel that the modern Netflix dub lacks. If you're a student of film or animation, study the editing of the Death segment. It’s a masterclass in how to recontextualize old footage to create a completely new emotional narrative.

Don't treat it as a chore. Treat it as a mood piece. It’s the sound of a violin tuning in a dark room while the world ends outside. It’s uncomfortable, it’s redundant, and it’s absolutely essential to the soul of Evangelion.

The best way to experience the transition is to watch Death(True)2 late at night, alone. Let the non-linear flashes of Shinji’s trauma wash over you. Don't try to track the plot; you already know the plot. Feel the rhythm of the cuts. By the time the string quartet finishes their session and the screen fades to black, you’ll be in the perfect, miserable headspace to appreciate the total annihilation that follows in the next film.

To get the most out of your rewatch, track down the "Red Cross Book" (the theatrical program sold during the original run). Many fans have translated it online. It contains the official glossary of terms that clarifies what things like "The Chamber of Guf" or "The Seed of Life" actually are. Reading that alongside a viewing of Death and Rebirth is the only way to truly bridge the gap between the TV ending and the cinematic finale. This isn't just a movie; it's the final piece of a puzzle that Anno purposefully broke into a thousand pieces.