Issue #331: Ryusuke Hamaguchi is the Modern Master
After seeing it last week, I was fortunately sufficiently inspired to write about Evil Does Not Exist (2024) this week. The segment splits the difference between those who have seen it and those who have not, so it might be lacking for both audiences. Those who have seen it will find that I omitted, for the sake of those sensitive to spoilers, some of the film’s crucial plot points. On the other hand, for those who haven’t seen it, I vaguely allude to some of the film’s events. Watching the movie blind, I was surprised enough and found the experience pleasant enough to want to make a modest effort to preserve it for others. All of this is to say is that the essay is light on spoilers, but will certainly point you in the general direction of turns in the film that are meant to surprise. If you are one of those highly sensitive to spoilers, or have anticipated seeing the film without any advance knowledge, it might be best to skip the essay. Otherwise, I hope it helps make sense of a complex and dense work.
Does Evil Reside in the Heart of the Forest?
Evil Does Not Exist (2024) is evocative. After watching the movie, there are a lot of ways to read its title. Is it ironic? Meaning, evil does exist. Is it a description of the seemingly endless displacement of agency as a company takes an action? Where does the buck stop? Or, could the evil that doesn’t exist be a description of the protagonist, Takumi (Hitoshi Omika), who does whatever it is he does for reasons beyond simple human morality?
It seems to me that the title is meant to facilitate the latter two readings, and maybe even the first one too. Ryusuke Hamaguchi has made an eco-justice parable. The primary drama of the film, although it may not always appear to be the case, is about the development of a “glamping” site in the serene Mizubiki Village. The village inhabitants, Takumi included, are concerned about the camping themed hotel and its ecological impact. The placement of the septic tank is at issue, a lengthy point of discussion in the film. “Water always flows downhill,” the village elder (Taijirō Tamura) reminds the aspiring developer, in an attempt to impress upon them their responsibility as stewards of the natural environs they hope to take advantage of.
The film shares more than a few similiarities with Clearcut (1991), which I have written about in the past. Takumi is a strange and — at times — bestial character. His behavior and motivations don’t seem to align themselves with common human motives. In the same way, he echoes the spectral power of Arthur (Graham Greene) in Clearcut, who is mystical and sinister. But Arthur is the avenging spirit of a decimated landscape and oppressed, exploited people. Takumi, a jack of all trades or odd jobs man, somewhat reluctantly steps into the role required of him to protect Mizubiki.
There are also shades of Princess Mononoke (1997), likely a more overt and intended intertext given the film’s high profile and national origin. Though, from my perspective, Evil Does Not Exist and Clearcut are true sibling films. But Hamaguchi’s latest borrows one very pointed image from Mononoke, that of the injured animal. In Mononoke, bullet wounds produce aggressive, demonic animals that behave erratically and harm humans they otherwise wouldn’t. Evil Does Not Exist spends a fair amount of time explaining how deer are not dangerous, but can become so after having sustained a bullet wound. Takumi’s account to the two developers about the rare scenario where deer are aggressive also related to the issue core to the film itself: displacement.
Takumi attempts to dissuade the developers from their chosen location because it is on a deer path. The developers are unconcerned, however, because of deers’ docility. Takumi asks with apparent earnestness, “where would they go?”, to which the developer replies uncertainly “somewhere else.” This is a wholly unsatisfying answer for Takumi, and a recapitulation of the earlier discussion about the septic tank. In a town meeting, the capacity of the septic tank is a significant concern for Mizubiki residents. The glamping site can accommodate more people than the septic tank is meant to treat. If there is septic overflow, the pure water of Mizubiki will become polluted with human waste. The lack of foresight or concern is not the appropriate relationship with nature, the film suggests. Rather, Takumi and the rest of Mizubiki expect that any development or utilization of the land is sufficiently thought out not to disrupt it.
The irony of most eco-justice stories is that whatever incentive one has to exploit the environment means turning a renewable resource into a finite one. Mizubiki might retain the qualities that make it an appealing place to go “glamping” for the first couple waves of tourists, but inevitably the tourists themselves will destroy the things about Mizubiki that make it an appealing vacation spot in the first place. Indeed, the residents have no opposition whatsoever to visitors. In the course of the meeting with the developers, residents point out that there are many vacation homes in the region. But it is the impact of development and the extracting of resources from Mizubiki that are at issue.
Hamaguchi seems to have a fascination with the scatological and abject in the film. Aside from the focus on the septic tank, there are also lingering shots of enormous piles of manure. They come late in the film and are quite striking: the huge piles of cow shit with steam bellowing from them. The sense I get from the contrast here, human waste vs. animal waste, is the possibility for new growth. The manure is part of a certain cycle of waste and fertilization. The human waste only threatens to pollute, in part because of the lack of consideration the developers are exercising.
Hana (Ryo Nishikawa), Takumi’s daughter, is the ceaseless explorer of the outside world. It is through her adventures that the camera turns its gaze to the manure piles. She frequently leaves school before Takumi arrives to pick her up to venture in the forest. The education she receives there seems secondary to her real education, the one Takumi gives to her in the forest. Takumi warns her to stay away from thorns, tests her knowledge of tree types, explains to her characteristics of the natural world. Hana aspires to the abilities he showcases as he collects spring water and fresh wasabi for the udon restaurant in town. Evil Does Not Exist makes clear that this world, however, is dangerous without proper education. Under the right circumstances, animals are aggressive and plants can kill.
Takumi’s discovery of the wild wasabi is one of many scenes that showcase the bizarre way Hamaguchi composes his shots. The camera point of view is from the wasabi bush, with Takumi staring straight into it as he identifies it. As he describes what he’s seeing, it’s as if he is addressing the audience directly. So early on in the movie, I almost thought he would tap the screen and we were in for that kind of fourth wall breaking film. Hamaguchi never goes quite that far, but the camera’s gaze is always mechanical and unnatural as it observes the world of nature. Early tracking shots of trees and the sky above them are an impossible orientation for the human body. You can’t stand, walk, and look up with your head at a full 90 degree angle as the camera does in these scenes. The camera is almost always steady until the film’s final act where there is an eruption of the building tension.
Hamaguchi will steadily frame a shot of Takumi collecting spring water, with the sequence lingering longer than it feels like it should. I felt the sense of being a voyeur, likely part of the intended effect, as well as having to adjust to the film’s slow, idiosyncratic rhythm; a rhythm that resembles the pace of Takumi’s life. He films out of the back side of cars, steadily and then not so much, again an impossible angle for human orientation from the driver’s perspective. The scenes of Mizubiki are pleasant and beautiful, but Hamaguchi’s approach to the brief section of the film that takes place in Tokyo is quite different. The city has never looked more hideous than in Hamaguchi’s camera lens. The Tokyo of Evil Does Not Exist is crowded, gray, inhospitable, and ugly.
Evil as a philosophical question is all over the film’s subtext. But the question is, perhaps, from where does it originate? Just like evil can be a diffuse, intractable feature of humanity’s so-called progress, it may also cathect in certain human acts, such as killing. But killing isn’t a human invention. Animals kill each other. And, sometimes, they kill humans. When the relationship between the human and animal is one of aggression and displacement, when the human presence in the habitat of the animal is one that annihilates that habitat, what kinds of actions are justified? It seems to me both the sympathetic human, like Takumi, and the animal itself might take profound action to preserve some form of ecological balance. The question the film leaves us with is whether or not these actions are different for the human and the animal, or if the human’s animality makes Takumi’s action the moral equivalent to that of the wounded, frantic deer.
Celtics Championship Loading ███▒▒▒▒▒▒▒
The Celtics are 2-0 in the NBA Finals. We haven’t been here in a while. Our last trip to the Finals in 2022 was a tough 4-2 loss, so we haven’t technically gotten further than that previous run. But I am optimistic. And last year, we went into the third game tied at 1-1 rather than 2-0.
Advantages can be a curse for the Celtics. Game in and game out, we have seen a team that is at times reluctant to capitalize on opportunities or can’t play to their potential against evidently less challenging opponents. Jaylen Brown said in his postgame remarks to Shaquille O’Neal and the NBA TV analysts that the team should approach the away games with a mentality of a team that is down by two rather than up by two.
He couldn’t be more right about that, given the Celtics history. But the Celtics are making new history in a number of ways. Though Jayson Tatum, the presumed “superstar” of the Celtics, has had poor scoring performances, he has made huge impacts on both games offensively and defensively. In Game 2, he fought for rebounds and created scoring opportunities for his team with a staggering number of assists. The team has also been able to keep their foot on the gas and generally maintain leads, even if they let them shrink from time to time.
The watchwords have been things like “staying poised,” “playing the right way,” and “competing at a high level.” And the team, at this point, does seem poised. Nearly unflappable, in fact. There have been repeated mind games by Mavericks coach Jason Kidd, an incessant media narrative that has counted the Celtics out and diminished the contributions of their players, and one Luka Dončič who can seemingly convert from nearly any situation.
Luka’s prodigious scoring is not enough to stop the Celtics, however. The rest of the Mavs squad are playing like they are straight out of the G League. Kyrie Irving, in particular, has underperformed tremendously — but this is precisely in line with his history against the Celtics. Truly, the fans have been able to get in his head. Any suggestion that he’s shaken off the boos and profane chants has proven to be wishful thinking on his part.
I’m having more fun watching the games now that I mute the TV broadcast and listen to radio commentary from Sean Grande and Cedric Maxwell. They are a phenomenal duo and bring a lot of joy to the game. There have been plenty amusing moments on the court, but nothing better so far than Derrick White torching Josh Hart during a post-game interview making a comment about the Indiana Pacers’ offense. Too soon, Derrick.
One of the predominant narratives leading up to the series is that the Celtics would be unprepared to face the Mavericks. The logic is as follows: regardless of which team is better, the fact that the Mavericks have had more competition on their road to the Finals means they will perform better. I never thought this made any sense. I don’t dispute the Celtics had an easier path to the Finals. Some of this is by design. They are the higher seeded regular season team, the bracket is made to be easy for them. But playing easy opponents, fewer games, and winning by larger margins is an advantage, not a disadvantage, going up against the “battle tested” Mavericks. How about battle scarred? Luka is hobbling around on Bionicle knees covered in ice packs. And he’s the only one putting up a fight against the Celtics.
The series is far from over, but I think the Celtics have it in the bag. Maybe I’m wrong, but I’m confident enough to put it out into the newsletter universe. The only question is how many games away are we? It could be as few as two.
Also, shout out to Tingus Pingus. I have always been a believer in the Porziņģis movement, and he is really coming through.
Weekly Reading List
Time travel is possible if I watch this video and then spend the next week only playing PS2 launch titles and watching television and movies released before 2000.
Until next time.