‘Evil Does Not Exist’ Movie Review [AFI Fest 2023]: Ryûsuke Hamaguchi’s Ecological Morality Drama Is Thought-Provoking
From Jeff Nelson
Ryûsuke Hamaguchi, the master filmmaker behind 2021’s stunning Drive My Car, returns with a very different exploration of humanity in Evil Does Not Exist. Originally crafted as a short accompanied by a live score, Hamaguchi expands this work into a feature-length film that wants you to think and reflect on the questions it ponders.
Tucked away in the rural village of Harasawa outside of Tokyo, Japan, Takumi (Hitoshi Omika) lives a quiet life with his young daughter, Hana (Ryo Nishikawa). However, the community’s peace is interrupted by a looming construction project that will bring city tourists a glamping experience to the tranquil region, which threatens to destroy their entire way of life. Takumi and his neighbors question the ecological impacts.
Those who saw Drive My Car should know that Hamaguchi doesn’t rush to his conclusions, which remains true in Evil Does Not Exist. It begins with a long take of the bare tree branches above in a snow-covered landscape, slowly lulling the audience into its serene world of nature, suddenly interrupted by human involvement.
The village’s peaceful livelihoods are threatened when representatives Takahashi (Ryuji Kosaka) and Mayuzumi (Ayaka Shibutani) arrive for a town meeting with the locals to present the glamping project plans, which doesn’t quite go as expected, finding the comedy in their inability to explain away their very real concerns.
Evil Does Not Exist is set in our world of the COVID-19 pandemic, further pushing the locals’ frustrations and the rushed demands of Takahashi and Mayuzumi’s boss. However, we come to learn more of their individual perspectives outside of the business setting, which become increasingly sympathetic toward the villagers, as opposed to their greedy client.
Hamaguchi’s direction draws strong performances from his cast with his sparing use of dialogue. Omika gives a quietly confident performance as Takumi, while Kosaka and Shibutani surprise with the amount of humanity they’re able to instill within Takahashi and Mayuzumi after initially playing on our and the locals’ assumptions that they’re bad people.
Eiko Ishibashi’s music stands at the core of Evil Does Not Exist. It’s a beautiful score that sets the stage for nature’s status quo and humans’ invasion into these largely undisturbed regions. Hamaguchi uses the score in long passages before jarringly removing the music and introducing humankind’s impact on the ecosystem.
Evil Does Not Exist is an alluring ecological voyage with a gripping sense of morality at its core. It beautifully navigates the balance between what is natural and what is human-made, as well as the consequences of its collapse. The pacing begins rather slow and it’s far from Hamaguchi’s most emotionally-captivating piece, but it progressively builds into a gripping and thought-provoking tale. The puzzling conclusion leaves more questions than answers, which may leave some audiences frustrated, but this is an unexpected mood piece that asks you to feel more than it wants you to figure out its secrets. Is it that evil does not exist? Or is it that it simply doesn’t exist in the natural world untouched by humanity?
Rating: 4/5
Evil Does Not Exist played AFI Fest 2023 on October 26th, 2023.