Written and directed by Ryûsuke Hamaguchi, co-written by Eiko Ishibashi, Takumi and his daughter Hana live in Mizubiki Village, close to Tokyo. One day, the village inhabitants become aware of a plan to build a camping site near Takumi’s house offering city residents a comfortable “escape” to nature. Starring: Hitoshi Omika, Ryô Nishikawa, Ryûji Kosaka, Ayaka Shibutani, Hazuki Kikuchi and Hiroyuki Miura.
There’s one thing that you will always find in a Ryûsuke Hamaguchi film and that’s fascinating characters. Hamaguchi has a special talent for creating enthralling and layered personas that are effortless to follow. He achieves that yet again with Evil Does Not Exist, beginning with Takumi (Hitoshi Omika), who is the classic strong and silent type, holds a wisdom beyond his years and is filled with compassion. It says everything about how captivating of a character he is that it’s enjoyable to watch him complete simple tasks, whether it be gathering water or chopping wood.
Within that mix is the heart of this film, it’s blending old-fashioned simplicity with modern greed and impatience. Which sounds as if it would create this gigantic rift or conflict but is in fact rather a calm journey, attempting to gradually reconcile its differing perspectives. The story flows wonderfully, it carries you away on its river of humility and community.
The different relationships that it explores all enhance its charm, whether it be between Takumi and Hana (Ryô Nishikawa) or Mayuzumi (Ayaka Shibutani) and Takahashi (Ryûji Kosaka), sent to secure the camping site, or even just any member of their endearing village. There’s a delightful chemistry and understanding between each of the different members of their community and the roles they fill.
The performances from every single member of the cast are wonderful, it wanders through so many different tones from happiness and generosity to sadness and anger. Though, they achieve those shifts so organically that it’s smooth from start to finish. Omika leads the way with such a kind, intelligent presence but he’s also surprisingly funny.
Shibutani brings an unexpected sweetness which is balanced so well with how Kosaka gives Takashi a youthful mischievousness. Nishikawa’s Hana is an absolute gem, she has such a big part to play but interestingly she’s often isolated and holds an unusual serenity and maturity.
Hamaguchi creates an atmosphere of taking things back to nature, holding a respectful and wholesome sensibility. With the help of Yoshio Kitagawa’s cinematography, they make the most of that woodland setting, it’s vast yet intimate. There’s an excellent tendency to not give viewers what they expect or what they might want, it’s curating shots to speak for themselves with purposefully obscured angles.
It makes amazing use of the space, Hamaguchi’s framing is extremely well done, and it enhances the atmosphere by making sharp cuts to the score. His use of audio shifts the tone dramatically at various points throughout the film and helps again to say so much more without having to simply hand it to viewers.
Evil Does Not Exist is yet another enthralling drama from Ryûsuke Hamaguchi, filled with fascinating characters, brought to life by an incredible cast. It’s patient and thoughtful, the direction and use of sound are clever and encourage viewers to interpret what they’re seeing, rather than simply giving you the answers. It’s visually stunning, captivating from start to finish and expertly balances simplicity with complexity.
