The Spotlight: Evil Does Not Exist (2023)

The Spotlight series takes a fresh look at works of climate cinema
By Akosua Owusu-Akyaw

The film Evil Does Not Exist (2023, dir. Ryusuke Hamaguchi) is a contemplative slow burn that engages in an honest conversation about community buy-in contrasted against the capitalist systems that cause environmental and social injury. The story takes place in a small village in Japan, and the plot is catalyzed when two representatives from a corporation in Tokyo show up to propose building a “glamping” site in the middle of town. One of the main problems is that the proposed site would need a new septic tank, the location of which would pollute the town’s water supply, which currently flows downstream from the mountains uninhibited and is a staple of the community.

Just as important as the plot is the perspective and the pacing. The cinematography – by Yoshio Kitagawa – often takes on the perspective of non-human entities: a wild wasabi plant about to be picked, or a web camera spying on a money-focused manager as he manipulates his more sympathetic employees.

The movie has long drawn-out shots that force the audience to linger within the atmosphere of each moment, rather than rush to a conclusion. We watch the entirety of a community meeting with the glamping corporate representatives, tension slowly simmering and starting to boil over. We follow a villager and his daughter on a tender walk as she points out various plants, and he affirms or corrects her. And we’re privy to the honest and somewhat awkward car ride conversation between the company’s two representatives as they discuss subjects like the subtle loss of dreams, the loneliness caused by the pandemic, and the modern societal pressures that motivate them to side with their company, even if they philosophically agree with the villagers. 

Without giving much away, I felt that the title, along with the film’s conclusion, encapsulated an overarching perspective of nature: that unlike us, the environment does not concern itself with morality, instead foregoing judgment or sympathy. Our actions and their causes and effects, both positive and negative, are neutrally absorbed – which is not to say that they will not lead to what we would call a tragedy.

Akosua is a CFF Founding Volunteer and our Education + Newsletter Lead.