I would describe this intriguing movie as made up of three main elements. The first one is the classical conflict between a rural community and the power of business here represented by a glamping (glamorous camping) project. This is the plot setting, but it is not the most important. The second element is represented by the consciousness and emotion of the characters, by their interactions inside the community and with the two representatives of the glamping company. The third element is the surprising and ambiguous ending where the title of the movie "Evil does not exist" becomes meaningful.

The collaboration of the director and the score composer Ishibashi Eiko is particularly interesting since the film originated from a request to create images to accompany a piece of music.

A local benri-ya-san (handyman), a single father in a provincial town near Tokyo, gets involved with big city interlopers looking to see up an ill-conceived glamping project in the area.

I am not a fan of slow cinema or the long take, and feared the worst when this film opened on Takumi take an age to chop firewood, then taking an age to gather water from a stream. But as the film stuck to its pace and Takumi gives daughter Hana a piggy-back through the forest, pointing out species of trees and wildlife tracks, I was drawn into the rhythm of Takumi's day-to-day existence. A discordant note arrived jarringly, as the haunting soundtrack abruptly cut out on the edit. As a device to create a sense of foreboding it could have been heavy-handed, but here it is a bold choice that sits in counterpoint with the natural beauty on display.

The story plays out the theme imbibed in the title resolutely. Takumi is no Crocodile Dundee; he knows nature and has an even temperament, but his forgetfulness leads him to forgetting to pick up his daughter once too often. And even at home, he obsesses over drawing when his daughter craves attention. His deceased wife is never mentioned, but her presence-through-absence hangs over every scene of family life.

The big city interlopers as first appear like pantomime villains. But then another side to them, too, is revealed. Takahashi comes across as a pompous fool in the village meeting, but there is a sincerity to his attempts to live a meaningful life, and we believe him when he talks during a long drive about wanting to dedicate his life to making his partner happy. His subordinate Mayuzumi at first appears to be the voice of pragmatism and common sense. But during the same drive we hear that she left a job as a carer to work in TV, a world she is fully aware is full of "lowlifes." She, too, has a shallow side. No one in this world is without shadows. When these three characters are thrown together in the film's last act, it is impossible to fathom where events will lead.

Where they do lead is to a point that audiences will either love or hate. Perhaps conditioned by the bum-numbing running time of Hamaguchi's previous film, Drive My Car, I for a fleeting moment thought the real action of the film was just beginning, when it suddenly ended. In a film full of jarring moments, this was the most impactful. Some might say egregious.

The performances Hamaguchi draws from his cast are flawless. I was stunned to read that Hitoshi Omika was an AD before this. His magnetism is simply off the scale. Ryûji Kosaka captures a certain kind of frail but annoying masculinity to a tee. Ayaka Shibutani shines in an understated but pitch perfect outing.

Evil Does Not Exist throws up a more questions than answers. It is an intriguing film, frustrating even, but Hamaguchi makes bold choices here and displays a confidence and maturity that is admirable. Three days after going to the cinema, I am still thinking about this film, still actually wondering if I liked it. Some are calling it a masterpiece, but I'm not so sure. It is though, without a doubt, well worth seeing.

Apparently this film derived from supporting an earlier music project. It feels to me somewhat cobbled together and poorly thought through.

The natural scenes are pleasant enough but too ponderous and awkwardly edited. The camera spends an age from the same longshot watching logs being sawn and split, not terribly skillfully. The camera tracks the main character giving his daughter a long piggy back through the forest in which they're identifying trees. I would've liked to see the trees they're talking about but we don't.

Then there is the arrival of the outsiders tasked with persuading villagers to embrace a new camping site which may have potential problems for the area. The outsiders are seduced and are clunkily charmed into wavering from their mission.

I might have endured these, and other shortcomings I perceived, and tried to come up with a meaningful interpretation, had it not been for the ending which made me feel as if I'd been duped into wasting the previous one and a half hours watching it. Everything that came before then seemed clumsy and pretentious. It was as if a serious nature documentary relied on an appearance by a Muppet character for it's denouement.