An ecological fable beyond clichés
A village community living in harmony
with nature finds itself threatened by a tourist development project.
In
silence and music, an ecological meditation by the author of Drive My Car.
We've already seen low-angle shots of
the treetops. It's an almost disqualifying cliché.
“ Evil does not exist” begins like
this.
But the pronounced duration of the shot - a long tracking shot -
and the music that supports it twist the cliché's neck.
The succession of trunks, foliage and
bare branches of the different trees (oaks, pines, etc.) invites the game of
distinction, while promoting vertigo.
Forest and nature that must be
preserved at all costs, such is the subject here.
Takumi, a handyman who is both
pragmatic and a dreamer, lives modestly with his little girl in a house in the
middle of the forest near Tokyo.
Their existence seemed well preserved until now.
As they live not far from a village
that is worried about a glamping development project (glamour + camping).
Communicators come to the region to
promote the project in assemblies and answer questions from worried residents.
The tiny music of a rumbling world
Compared to the unforgettable “Drive
My Car” and “Tales of Chance and Other Fantasies”,
this latest film by Ryūsuke Hamaguchi is a very different work.
Minor, no doubt, but singular in its quasi-experimental gesture.
The soaring electro of Eiko Ishibashi, a Japanese musician, plays a driving role here.
One could almost say that the images accompany this latest, and not the other way around.
Few dialogues, harmonies, silence and
contemplation,
time to name the elements of the ecosystem and point out its
possible fragility.
The film oscillates between a chronicle tinged with comical satire, and a not-so-peaceful ecological fable.
Because, without realizing it,
quietly,
as if lurking under the snow,
anger is rising.
Which bursts at the very end in a violent epilogue!
As beautiful as it is strange…
Conceived as a kind of riddle,
where the spectator will have all the leisure
to find
the missing images…
Aku wa sonzai shinai by Ryūsuke Hamaguchi
Une communauté villageoise vivant en harmonie avec la nature se retrouve menacée par un projet d'aménagement touristique.
Les plans en contre-plongée sur la cime des arbres, on a déjà vu. C'est un cliché presque disqualifiant.
La succession des troncs, formations et branches nues des différents arbres (chênes, pins, etc.) invite au jeu de la distinction,
La forêt et la nature qu'il faut préserver coûte que coûte, telle est ici la problématique.
Takumi, homme à tout faire à la fois pragmatique et rêveur,
Des communicants viennent dans la région promouvoir ledit projet en assemblée et répondre aux questions des habitants inquiets.
La petite musique d'un monde qui gronde
Comparé aux inoubliables Drive My Car et Contes du hasard et autres fantaisies,
Peu de dialogues, des harmonies, du silence et de la contemplation, du temps pour nommer les éléments de l'écosystème et pointer sa fragilité possible.
Le film oscille entre chronique teintée de satire cocasse
Car, mine de rien, en sourdine,
Qui éclate à la toute fin dans un épilogue violent,
aussi beau qu'étrange,
conçu comme une sorte de devinette,
où le spectateur aura tout le loisir de trouver
les images manquantes.
Le mal n'existe pas, par Ryūsuke Hamaguchi
Giulia Dobre
2024
