Festival Coverage by Zach Dennis
It’s about keeping the balance, says Takumi (Hitoshi Omika), echoing similar pleas from other residents of Mizubiki Village. The small, rural mountain town sits not far from Tokyo, but it couldn’t be more different. Takumi’s family has been on this land for generations — he knows the area better than anyone, one resident tells the two talent agency members who come to Mizubiki to share a proposal for a glamping site near the town.
The proposal is met with skepticism from the residents. While many may just not want the attention to the town, they respond to the proposal with calm, measured answers — pointing out flaws in the plan, including the location of a septic system that would affect their drinking water source coming down the mountain and the lack of surveillance on the site 24/7, which brings concerns of wildfires and other accidents from campers unfamiliar with the terrain.
It requires balance, he says. If you want to live here, you have to adhere to the code that each of the villagers in the meeting follow. The water is a source of life for the village and it is up to them to make sure it is properly cared for so that the people below them will be able to keep its benefits, and so on and so forth.
Their pleas sway the two talent agents, but they aren’t the ones holding the stick. Reporting back to their boss, it becomes clear that a lot of the more vocal and radical concerns posed by members of the village are true. They need to get construction going soon and they don’t have time to reconsider anything.
The village will just have to learn to adapt.
Ryusuke Hamaguchi’s slow burn technique feels gentle but searing in Evil Does Not Exist — a tale in how we define progress and whether “progress” is always necessary, especially if it disrupts the balance of the land.
If you run a septic system along the water source, it will pollute the water and create a much unhealthier environment. It may just be your intention to create this experience for others, but what does that experience mean for those who are always there? Promises of leading to better conditions may seem aspirational now, but in the long run, the better is for those who directly benefit, not those on the periphery.
Ironically, I saw a news story from my hometown of Chattanooga about a proposed “work, live, play” development that will include restaurants, condos and activities around a new baseball stadium in south Chattanooga. In the article, the lead developer speaks to the city’s rotary club about all of the benefits it’ll bring. You’ll have places to eat! Your kids can play and get an ice cream! You’ll be able to catch baseball games near your luxury condo!
These types of developments harp on the benefits for all — you can get rid of Reagan but not trickle down economics, I guess. But that’s never the case. Workers still struggle to make ends meet and have no shot of progressing to the point where they could also take part in the litany of outcomes this development promises. It continues to isolate a degree of wealth and segregate cities by class. It engulfs more public into private.
Evil Does Not Exist never sees the outcomes of its proposals, but you know where it’s headed. In the end, we have to restore some sort of balance because that’s what we have control over. The water runs downstream.