On Location: Japan's Serene Nagano Prefecture Stars in ‘Evil Does Not Exist’

04.05.2024 - 15:29 / cntraveler.com

It would be easy to read Evil Does Not Exist as being anti-travel—or, at the very least, anti-glamping. The new film from Japanese director Ryusuke Hamaguchi is set in the tranquil (and fictional) village of Mizubiki some two hours outside of Tokyo. Locals live in deference to the nature that surrounds them, collecting water from the forest’s crystal-clear spring with quiet care. But, when COVID-era economic incentives drive a Tokyo consulting firm to erect a glamping site upstream of the village, without considering the environmental consequences on the community, a high-drama town meeting ensues, wherein villagers poke hole after hole in the hastily-drawn plan. Over the course of the film's two hours, it continues to meditate on topics of man and nature, framing stunning countryside scenery for so long, and with such focus, that you emerge refreshed as though from a cold plunge.

We sat down with the director (and his wonderful interpreter, Aiko Masubuchi) to get a grip on Hamaguchi’s Japan, his feelings about responsible tourism and glamping in the real world, and man’s place in nature. Read on to step into the world of the film, which enters limited release May 2.

Evil Does Not Exist is set in a rural part of Japan some two hours outside of Tokyo, where the residents defer to nature.

You conceived of this project after spending time in composer and frequent collaborator Eiko Ishibashi's hometown—what was this creative process like?

Eiko offered me an opportunity to make visuals for her live performance [which is currently screening in New York City]—at that time, I wasn’t sure what I would make. I went to go see her make music in her studio [in the Nagano Prefecture], which is about two hours away from Tokyo by car. There, I saw the same nature that you see in the film and the nature that she makes music in.

When I was there, it was winter. It was quite a cold view. The locals would tell me, “Winter is not the season to experience this place. In spring, summer, and fall, it is really beautiful.” We were seeing these bare branches and a lack of human presence. This matched very well with Ishibashi’s music, where there’s very few senses of life within the landscape except for a bit of falling snow or a little flash of movement from the wind or an animal. There are layers and layers of subtlety in her music.

The film was inspired by Hamaguchi's time in composer Eiko Ishibashi's hometown during the winter, a seasonal landscape thoroughly congruent with Ishibashi's subtle, sparse music.

What is your relationship with Japan’s natural world? Did you grow up in a rural or urban environment?

Because of my parents’ work, we moved around a lot between municipal towns and cities. There’s nature there, but