Evil Does Not Exist

In selected cinemas

The latest feature from Ryusuke Hamaguchi, the acclaimed writer and director of Drive My Car could be mistaken for an art exhibition at times, such is the assuredness and frequency with which it chooses to dwell in its moments of quiet contemplation. Similarly, despite its intriguing title, Evil Does Not Exist does not feel obligated to give its audience an obvious explanation of its meaning, instead leaving us to draw our own conclusions from its ambiguous narrative.

Set in the rural Japanese village of Harasawa, the film is centred on Hitoshi Omika’s stoic single parent, who resides in the forest with his young daughter and spends his days serving the local community by chopping wood and hauling well water. This idyllic way of life is soon threatened by the imminent construction of a glamping site that poses an ecological threat to the area, causing its residents to group together and voice their concerns.

Hamaguchi’s leisurely approach to storytelling is likely to delight and frustrate viewers in equal measure, but the absorbing visuals he creates alongside Yoshio Kitagawa ensure that this picture remains oddly compelling throughout its modest runtime. Meanwhile, Eiko Ishibashi’s score has the impressive effect of immersing you in the serene surroundings of Harasawa in a manner that is not technically dissimilar to Jonathan Glazer’s The Zone of Interest, even if the subsequent feeling is far less unsettling.

In terms of messaging, Evil Does Not Exist is clearly preoccupied with the existential threat that unregulated capitalism poses to our environment, albeit in a way that is more meditative than overly moralistic. Although undoubtedly testing, it is a rewarding and sensory experience that will prompt you to think about the cyclical nature of how we impact the world around us, while shining a light on the beautiful traditions of rural Japanese communities.