Evil Does Not Exist Review
A Beautiful and Confounding Tale
Can something be drop-dead gorgeous but also leave you unimpressed? Ryusuke Hamaguchi's Evil Does Not Exist may be that. It is a perplexing film that will leave some audiences bored, confused, and in awe. I could see those throwing around the word masterpiece when it's all said and done. I fall somewhere in the middle. I can't deny the stunning cinematography paired perfectly with Eiko Ishibashi's score. I can't deny the brilliant acting and writing when it's happening. I can't deny the environmental/anti-capitalist message that Hamaguchi is trying to convey; I agree with him! Unfortunately, this film's ideas and moments of goodness are too short or half-baked. I wanted more, but I did not get it.
SPOILERS:
Evil Does Not Exist revolves around a small village in Japan that is invaded by a real estate developer who wants to construct a glamping site in its forest. The conflict of our story begins when the company's PR team has a PowerPoint Q&A with the village, and the team is met with hostility and pushback from the residents. This is where the movie started to work for me. We see unbelievable back and forth between the community and the PR Team. This 20-minute tense and thoughtful town hall felt real; you learned everything you needed to know about each character. The philosophy of the village is distilled into a simple but effective "what you do at the top of the stream flows down to us here at the bottom." I wanted so much more of this.
Our main protagonist is Takumi (Hitoshi Omika), the residents' leading spokesman. We spend the first 20 minutes of the film observing him cut wood, gather fresh water, and spend time with his daughter and community. From the opening and the resident meeting over the glamping, it's clear that this community is close and cares very much for nature. The gorgeous cinematography amplifies this notion, and you can tell Hamaguchi has a deep love for this world in a Walt Whitmanesque way.
The PR team from the town hall is embarrassed and reports back to their boss in Tokyo. The scene where the Microsoft teams call their boss, who essentially does the 21st-century bullshit consulting job dismissing all the resident's needs and cutting costs, was another, oh hell yeah, this film is cooking. As someone who's been in many of those same meetings where it's clear that there's a problem, but everyone wants to think about money or spin it into something positive, it is infuriating. I related to those two PR team members incredibly at that moment. The PR team is sent back to this village to make Takumi the caregiver of the glamping site, but once back in the town, they realize that they don't want to ruin this village but be part of it. The PR team cuts wood, gathers water, and spends time eating in one of their restaurants that uses such fresh water. It's a cute way of showing the city outsiders trying to cosplay their way into being part of nature.
The film culminates with a hunt for Takumi's missing daughter, who always forgets to pick her up from school, and culminates with a stare-down between the daughter and a wounded deer. We learned earlier that the glamping site would be on a deer trail and that those shot are the only deer that attack. One of the PR team members tries to intervene to save his daughter, but Takumi grabs him and viciously chokes him out. I may have rolled my eyes when this happened. Takumi then picks up his daughter and walks off into the dark forest; only minutes later, the PR member awakens and coughs his way through a dark forest, staring up into the branches. Cut to black.
Emotionally, this ending feels unearned, which could be what Hamaguchi intended. It is an essential message that outsiders can't just come into a natural community and pretend to understand it when the residents are outsiders to nature. I interpret the title as humans created evil and destruction; once we are gone, it will cease to exist. I think that's a powerful and excellent fable to present through the hilarious concept of a glamping site in a small village in Tokyo, but honestly, it didn't work for me. A lot of the time in the film was wasted on these gorgeous shots, and we could have spent more time understanding the nature of the characters. The abrupt, violent ending and ambiguity felt like ash in my mouth after my time in the theatre.
Your mileage may vary with Evil Does Not Exist. My Western audience brain may have needed help handling the slow pace and spiritual messages presented here. A pretty movie that doesn't feel earned is one I can't give an excellent score to, even though I loved many of the extensive dialogue scenes with people in them, especially the town hall scene. There's a world in which I like this film, but I wonder if that one exists currently.
Score: 7/10
Written by: Kevin J. Pettit