Ryûsuke Hamaguchi is a film director who does not make life easy for the viewers of his films. After seeing his previous film, 'Drive My Car' (2021), which enjoyed international success, including an Academy Award for Best Foreign Language Film and three other Academy nominations, I made it a point not to miss his next films. I confess that 'Evil Does Not Exist' (2023 - the original title is 'Aku wa sonzai shinai') confused me. 'Drive My Car' was a complex film about art, mourning, human communication, whose main challenge (in my opinion) was its 3-hour duration. 'Evil Does Not Exist' is apparently a simpler film in terms of theme, dealing with the relationship between man and nature, presenting the simple life of a small rural community faced with aggressive capitalism. The beautiful moments are not lacking here either, but paradoxically, the 106 minutes of this recent film seemed to me less coherent and including more moments lacking emotion than the previous film which was almost twice as long. Add to that a more-than-enigmatic ending, and perhaps you begin to understand the reasons for my confusion.
It is not, however, at least on the surface, a very complicated story. The film has four parts. In the first part we get to know the life of a small community at the feet of the mountains (I think we even see Mount Fuji in the background a few times) which, although it is only 2-3 hours driving from Tokyo, leads a simple life, close to an unpolluted nature. Everything is filmed at a very slow pace, like that of nature and people's lives. Among the villagers, the camera focuses more on Takumi, the man who cuts wood and supplies his neighbors with clean water from the mountain rivers, and his daughter, Hana, who is about 10 years old. In the second part of the film the rhythm and style change. We watch a meeting between the inhabitants of the village and two representatives (a man and a woman) of a company from Tokyo that intends to build a 'glamping' (glamorous camping) tourist attraction in the area as a place of recreation for the company's employees. However, the construction will affect the quality of life of the residents. There is the danger of water pollution and fire hazards. In the third part the pace accelerates even more. A video conference is held at the firm's Tokyo headquarters where the General Manager and the project's consultant discuss ways to meet or skip the residents' demands without missing the deadline for the start of the project, which is financed by a post-pandemic fund. The man and woman are sent back to try to bribe Takumi by offering him to be a 'consultant' on the project. On the way, the two chat - a bit in the style of 'Drive My Car' - and seem to have been captivated by the quieter and uncorrupted lifestyle of the village. I prefer not to write too much about the last part. I'll just say that it veers towards 'horror' and is a prelude to an enigmatic ending worth discussing separately after you see the film.
The story seems simple, but it has many layers. Each of the four parts has its own rhythm and the composition is not unlike that of a symphony, with different tempos of each movement. The comparison to musical structure is more than a metaphor. This film started from the music of Eiko Ishibashi, who is also mentioned as the co-author of the script. Ryûsuke Hamaguchi began shooting for a video film to illustrate his music, which in turn was inspired by nature and village life. As the film emerged and developed, the idea of a fictional film was introduced, adding the corporate counterpoint which forms the core of the conflict. Clean water and innocent animals, which are never aggressive unless they are injured, can be seen as metaphors for a way of life threatened by urban and capitalist expansion. The actors are perfect and seem to be playing their roles from life, which is probably what many of them are doing. Ryûsuke Hamaguchi draws his viewers into a narrative that seems simple but hides many symbols and ends unexpectedly and enigmatically. Parts of the film charmed me, nature is filmed with sensitivity and expressiveness, but others left me with many question marks. 'Evil Does Not Exist' is a film that deserves to be seen, but viewers should be warned that they will watch an unconventional film. The ending - unusual as well and contradicting the title - is also an invitation to discussion.
It is not, however, at least on the surface, a very complicated story. The film has four parts. In the first part we get to know the life of a small community at the feet of the mountains (I think we even see Mount Fuji in the background a few times) which, although it is only 2-3 hours driving from Tokyo, leads a simple life, close to an unpolluted nature. Everything is filmed at a very slow pace, like that of nature and people's lives. Among the villagers, the camera focuses more on Takumi, the man who cuts wood and supplies his neighbors with clean water from the mountain rivers, and his daughter, Hana, who is about 10 years old. In the second part of the film the rhythm and style change. We watch a meeting between the inhabitants of the village and two representatives (a man and a woman) of a company from Tokyo that intends to build a 'glamping' (glamorous camping) tourist attraction in the area as a place of recreation for the company's employees. However, the construction will affect the quality of life of the residents. There is the danger of water pollution and fire hazards. In the third part the pace accelerates even more. A video conference is held at the firm's Tokyo headquarters where the General Manager and the project's consultant discuss ways to meet or skip the residents' demands without missing the deadline for the start of the project, which is financed by a post-pandemic fund. The man and woman are sent back to try to bribe Takumi by offering him to be a 'consultant' on the project. On the way, the two chat - a bit in the style of 'Drive My Car' - and seem to have been captivated by the quieter and uncorrupted lifestyle of the village. I prefer not to write too much about the last part. I'll just say that it veers towards 'horror' and is a prelude to an enigmatic ending worth discussing separately after you see the film.
The story seems simple, but it has many layers. Each of the four parts has its own rhythm and the composition is not unlike that of a symphony, with different tempos of each movement. The comparison to musical structure is more than a metaphor. This film started from the music of Eiko Ishibashi, who is also mentioned as the co-author of the script. Ryûsuke Hamaguchi began shooting for a video film to illustrate his music, which in turn was inspired by nature and village life. As the film emerged and developed, the idea of a fictional film was introduced, adding the corporate counterpoint which forms the core of the conflict. Clean water and innocent animals, which are never aggressive unless they are injured, can be seen as metaphors for a way of life threatened by urban and capitalist expansion. The actors are perfect and seem to be playing their roles from life, which is probably what many of them are doing. Ryûsuke Hamaguchi draws his viewers into a narrative that seems simple but hides many symbols and ends unexpectedly and enigmatically. Parts of the film charmed me, nature is filmed with sensitivity and expressiveness, but others left me with many question marks. 'Evil Does Not Exist' is a film that deserves to be seen, but viewers should be warned that they will watch an unconventional film. The ending - unusual as well and contradicting the title - is also an invitation to discussion.