Producer: Satoshi Takata   Director: Ryûsuke Hamaguchi    Screenplay: Ryûsuke Hamaguchi   Cast: Hitoshi Omika, Ryo Nishikawa, Ryuji Kosaka, Ayaka Shibutani, Hazuki Kikuchi, Hiroyuki Miura, Yuto Torii, Taijiro Tamura and Yoshinori Miyata   Distributor: Sideshow/Janus Films

Grade: B+

Ecological dramas are ordinarily pretty clear-cut when it comes to heroes and villains and the struggle, usually legal, to punish despoilers of the environment.  That’s not the way of Ryûsuke Hamaguchi, whose “Drive My Car” won the Oscar for Best International Feature in 2022.  He not only employs a moody, meditative style to explore the plans of a Tokyo company to build an upscale camping facility—a so-called glamping resort—in the Japanese countryside miles from the city and the reactions of local residents to the idea, but adds layers of moral ambiguity to the narrative while ending the film with an enigmatic close that’s sure to provoke and frustrate in equal measure.

The film begins with an otherworldly tracking shot with the camera looking skyward through dense tree branches as it moves along accompanied by the dreamily suspenseful droning of Eiko Ishibashi’s sinuous music, which—as repeatedly happens—abruptly cuts off to introduce Takumi (Hitoshi Omika), a local “jack of all trades” as he describes himself, chopping wood, collecting spring water for the local udon restaurant run by Minimura (Hazuki Kikuchi)—he’s aided in this task by her assistant Kazuo (Hiroyuki Miura)—and taking long walks through the forest with his young daughter Hana (Ryo Nishikawa).  Father and daughter also enjoy meals with Minimura, Kazuo, Harasawa’s mayor Suruga (Taijiro Tamura) and village gadfly Tatsu (Yuto Torii).

The tranquility of Harasawa is upset, however, by the arrival of Takahashi (Ryuji Kosaka) and Mayuzumi (Ayaka Shibutani), representatives of a Tokyo company called Playmode that plans to build a glamping hotel near the town.  In a meeting with villagers, the two explain the venture, drawing objections to the proposal from Minimura, Takumi, Suruga and others.  Most present their views, which center on potential impact on the water supply, with respect, but Tatsu is obstreperous, accusing the firm of rushing things in order to secure pandemic funding from the government before the deadline date. 

As it turns out, he’s right.  In a Zoom meeting with their boss Horiguchi (Yoshinori Miyata) back in Tokyo, Takahashi and Mayuzumi are encouraged to finesse the problems with the locals, perhaps by convincing Takumi to assume caretaker duties at the resort while the other difficulties—the size and location of a septic tank, most notably—are simply swept aside.  The task doesn’t sit well with Mayuzumi, who indicates she might quit her job and move on, or with Takahashi, who becomes enamored with the notion of moving to Harasawa and embracing the rustic life, though he’s comically unsuited to it.

So far the deck appears to be stacked in the usual way.  But matters are actually more complicated.  The Tokyo bosses might be interested only in the bottom line, but their on-site representatives are genuinely concerned that the locals’ interests are being ignored.  Moreover, the villagers are drawn in shades of gray.  Takumi explains that the area was opened for farming by the government only after the war, so in reality they are relative newcomers—“outsiders”—too (in Minimura’s case, she’s been there only four years, and her business depends on the sparkling streams), and have impacted the environment already.  Meanwhile rifle fire echoing in the distance indicates that deer hunters are coming ever closer.  So the right and wrong of the dispute are murkier than it seems. 

In addition Takumi is not an entirely heroic figure.  He frequently loses track of time, leaving Hana to walk home from school through the woods alone and ignoring her even when they’re together in the evenings.  He’s reluctant to take a straightforward stand on the development, calming down Tatsu when he appears to be getting out of hand and suggesting openness to helping the Playmode team.

Hamaguchi maintains a quiet, meditative mood up to this point—some viewers will find the going annoyingly slow, with long sequences of Takumi splitting logs or filling canisters with creek water, and of him and Hana traipsing through the woods.  The habit of editors Ryusuke Hamaguchim and Azusa Yamazaki abruptly cutting off scenes, with Ishibashi’s music left hanging as well, can also be disorienting.  A moment when Takumi drives to the schoolyard to find the students in the midst of a game of red light-green light, alternately rushing forward and stopping like statues, is particularly jarring since what they’re doing is explained only after it seems the action has suddenly frozen.

But in the final reel the narrative takes a sudden turn into high-stakes drama: Hana goes missing, and the entire village—along with Takahashi and Mayuzumi—join in a desperate search to find her.  Takumi and Takahashi apparently come upon her in a tense situation, facing a deer protecting her injured fawn—the one situation, Takumi has earlier suggested, in which a doe might attack an interloper.  Or do they?  The ending is mysterious and haunting, offering no clear resolution to the central narrative about the glamping plan or a simple conclusion about the tension between the natural world and human society.

“Evil Does Not Exist” takes its time in reaching this ambiguous close, the laid-back, unhurried performances contributing to a lapidary feel, with its lush outdoor locations and effectively unadorned interiors, courtesy of production designer Masato Nunobe captured in naturalistic style by cinematographer Yoshio Kitagawa (except, of course, for the hazily dreamlike sequences at beginning and end).  It’s a film of deceptive simplicity that fascinates, puzzles and sometimes irritates, in the process inviting reflection and discussion afterward. 

Producers: Amy Pascal, Luca Guadagnino, Zendaya and Rachel O’Connor   Director: Luca Guadagnino Screenplay: Justin Kuritzkes   Cast: Zendaya, Josh O’Connor, Mike Faist, Darnell Appling, AJ Lister, Nada Despotovich, Naheem Garcia, Hailey Gates and Jake Jensen   Distributor: Amazon MGM Studio

Grade B+

Director Luca Guadagnino has never been stingy in supplying his films with sexual passion and cinematic extravagance, but he outdoes himself in this tale of three tennis stars for whom love means more than a score in the game. 

Or perhaps lust is the better word, because their triangular relationship begins in 2006 when all of them are still in their late teens.  Patrick Zweig (Josh O’Connor) and Art Donaldson (Mike Faist) are horny, carefree guys who’ve become a doubles team at a tennis academy.  At a meet they’re simultaneously awed by the court ability of prodigy Tashi Duncan (Zendaya), who’s on her way to Stanford, and keen to get her to come on to them (or at least one of them).    

At a lawn party after the meet they invite Tashi to the room they’re sharing, and that night she shows up.  She cannily takes charge of the situation, sensing the unspoken, undoubtedly unconscious, homoerotic element in their bond, by remarking that she doesn’t intend to be a homewrecker; and sitting between them on the bed, she shares steamy kisses with both before encouraging them to kiss one another.  Then she leaves, and they decide to play a match against one another to decide which of them will win the chance to romance her.

Cutting to the chase, it’s randy bad-boy Patrick who takes the prize, and he and Tashi become a sizzling twosome.  But nice guy Art is always in the background, commiserating with Tashi, especially after she suffers a career-ending knee injury.  And it’s they who eventually marry and have a child, sweet Lily (Lily Donaldson).  They’re a couple professionally as well, as the sidelined Tashi becomes Art’s coach.

Jump ahead thirteen years and Art has had a strong pro career.  But recently he’s been floundering: he’s lost his killer edge, and his chance of completing the Grand Slam by winning the US Open is becoming less and less likely.  Though he hasn’t told his wife, he’s even thinking seriously of retirement. 

Meanwhile she comes up with an idea to prepare him for the Open: she convinces him to sign up for a ATP Challenger event in New York where he can regain his confidence by trouncing players struggling to improve their ranking and earn a place in the ATP Tour.  What neither knows is that Patrick, whose career never took off and is now living out of his car and scrounging for entrance fees, is also among the players.  Naturally the final round will come down to him against Art, the eternal adolescent and the mature, world-weary adult, with Tashi watching intently from the center of the crowd.  The match mirrors the one the two men had over her more than a decade earlier, since Patrick still wants Tashi for himself and aims to be victorious both on and off the court, and she, in spite of her better judgment, can’t deny her feelings toward him.  

That 2019 contest, in fact, is where “Challengers” begins, and flashes of it recur throughout the film to the very end, as Guadagnino, writer Justin Kuritzkes and editor Marco Costa present the tale of the threesome not in straightforward chronological terms but as an intricate puzzle in which past and present shift and collide like volleys in a hard-fought march.  The stylistic strategy invests the narrative with a blistering nervous energy that keeps you engrossed and exhilarated despite the fact that the plot is actually quite simple, even borderline silly.

But it’s not merely the complex structure that gives the film such propulsive power.  Guadagnino, Costa, cinematographer Sayombhu Mukdeeprom and the effects team led by Brian Drewes give the court action amazing visual pizzazz, fashioning some shots from the ball’s point of view or having the sphere rush directly toward the camera like a guided missile.  The result is both startling and invigorating, exponentially enhancing the level of tension the matches—especially the Challenge final—already possess.  (The intermittent interventions of the New Rochelle umpire played as preternaturally calm by Darnell Appling only amps up the impact each time the increasingly contentious play resumes.)  And the pulsing techno-flavored score by Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross further adds to the kinetic charge.

Even more integral to the film’s smashing success are the three stars, who bring almost fanatical intensity to their characters.  All excel in the physical department, not only convincing us of their skill on the court but managing to persuade us of the various ages they’re playing at different points in the story.  O’Connor and Faist actually come across as gangly, rowdy, hormone-driven teens in the chronologically earliest portions of the tale; and in the 2019 sequences they’re equally compelling, though in different ways, with O’Connor a perfect portrait of the over-the-hill striver still confident of his macho allure and Faist the very image of the champion trying to retain his poise through no longer sure of his athletic prowess, or of his wife’s fidelity.  Zendaya proves her star quality by differentiating the young Tashi’s supremely seductive yet knowing persona from her later, colder but no less perceptive one.  Jonathan Anderson assists them all with costumes that suit their characters at the varied stages of their lives, with Patrick’s scruffy court garb compared to Art’s designer outfits a notable touch.

There’s an emotional ferocity to “Challengers” that’s more than a little overheated, even slightly ridiculous, in its operatic flamboyance.  But better that than the blandness someone other than Guadagnino might have served up.