"With every glimmer of hope... comes a tornado of anti-hope"

Terry Chiu's The End of Evangelion; uncompromisingly dense and defiantly irreverent outsider art / soul searching waged on suburban margins, situating the despair of its existential wasteland entirely in an undeveloped lot featuring little more than rocky mounds and power lines - an opportune field to instigate a anarchic no-fi battle royale riddled with splatter and fists and unicorn wands in which fighting others is the very essence of fighting yourself. It's completely overwhelming, a purgatorial adventure film burrowing deeper into pain under the guise of catharsis, submerged in cacophonous punk noise philosophising and dynamic dual-subtitled information overload, home to the stray voices of the lost overlapping and undermining each other yet Chiu's midwest emo lyricism from Mangoshake continues to chime through and the means in which it breaks clear as a meta-textual element is profoundly moving; an open doom crescendo, and so too an intimate odyssey of how every connection has to navigate a combat of give & take with one another - "And you - for the time you have given"