Final Rating: 4/5
With his Oscar win for Drive My Car on his mantle, director Ryûsuke Hamaguchi’s latest outing, Evil Does Not Exist, tackles an environmental focused drama teeming with much deeper resonance. The story revolves around a talent agency and their attempt to set up a glamping site in a remote area of Japan, in hopes of attracting tourists from Tokyo.
To call the start a slow burn is to consider a kitchen fire ‘toasty’. For much of the first twenty minutes or so we simply see Takumi (Hitoshi Omika) merely going about his mundane life working odd jobs, walking among the forest with his daughter Hana (Ryo Nishikawa), collecting water, chopping wood, all manner of tasks his life requires.
This is consistent with the narrative, as what is done so effectively throughout the film are simple, subtle moments about the characters and what they are coping with. After finding a large feather, Takumi notes that the town elder will love it, so his daughter gives it to him, and he then explains his son will use it to play music, as a sort of pick for strings.
She then asks him if he plays the piano with a degree of excitement, he does not, but we shortly there-after discover Hana’s now deceased mother had. The sense of community amongst the small town members is palpable, as these are people who enjoy the solitude of their surroundings and aren’t trustworthy of the intentions of these outsiders.
In order to placate the community’s concerns the company sends a pair of representatives to discuss their endeavour. It’s during this meeting that the residents raise various, very legitimate concerns, about the environmental impact of this project. We clearly see just how over their head the company is. Water from the spring is vital to the community and this plan risks polluting the resource. The constituents even understand how money drives the timing of this plan, given that the company needs COVID related government subsidies to help with the costs.
They head home, tail between their legs, and are then subsequently unlucky when they plead with their bosses to go and explain what the situation is in order to help smooth things over. They are ignored via zoom call and corporate logic, highlighting in no small (or subtle) manner the attitude of much of the corporate world when faced with such issues.
They return to the community, humbled and willing to admit how ignorant of the situation they were, and to see if Takumi will take on the job of supervisor for the site. He has little interest, and instead goes about showing them the way of their life there and illustrating how the new development would cause issues. He is extremely knowledgeable of the area and this contrast of someone who lives off the land and respects it versus those looking to make a quick buck off it is certainly stark and pivotal to the theme.
There is an enlightening moment in Takumi’s car when they discuss the fact that the site is on a deer route, and what that means. One of the employees suggests this could be a good opportunity for people to interact with them, but Takumi notes deer are timid and avoid people. The other employee then remarks that deer could simply go somewhere else, and well, it doesn’t take much to read into that messaging, though who exactly is the deer in this scenario?
I won’t say much in the way of how the ending unfolds, other than to say it will stick with you. This film may not be for everyone, as many will see it as artsy or dragging on in parts, but it’s timely, beautifully shot, well-crafted and striking with its messaging.
Editors note: Evil Does Not Exist was previously reviewed during the 2023 edition of the New York Film Festival.
Evil Does Not Exist was seen during the 2024 International Film Festival of Ottawa.
