Films about humanity’s relationship with nature typically fall into neat, discernible categories: surviving a catastrophic event, proving criminal negligence for pollution, taking on nature’s challenges, and so on.
However, in Japanese director Hamaguchi’s follow up to his universally well received “Drive My Car” (2021), this is not the case. Instead of attempting to satisfy conventional plot expectations viewers may bring to the film, Hamaguchi immerses us into a world that we think we know, but more likely do not.
Our perception of nature, and ourselves, is immediately challenged during a sustained opening view of the underside of a forest canopy. While helplessly looking up at the sky, partly obstructed by the trees, for almost five minutes may be trying our patience, our lack of knowledge of what we’re experiencing also forces us to question our own notions of reality.
When a company from Tokyo wants to build a glamping (think portmanteau of glamorous and camping) site upstream from a rural village, the townsfolk meet with company representatives to voice their concerns. But as we observe the players on both sides, we come to realize that our assumptions about people are no different than those we commonly make about nature.
Maintaining a slow pace throughout, Hamaguchi deliberately keeps us at a distance. It’s as if we’re being told to stay off the grass while forced to watch it grow, and yet still remain subject to its mysteries.
Other seamless cinematic techniques make the world disappear into nature. For example, random and contrarian camera angles through all the windows of a moving car help us to understand the omnipresence of nature. His lighting decisions are a commentary on how artificial lighting in film can be contrived, and even a distraction, whereas natural lighting holds us captive, literally and figuratively.
All these techniques help make any human plot element seem trivial in the deliberately long drawn out narrative where nature is the main character. Try as we might, putting significance on ourselves in any battle for or against nature appears futile. The film seems to be saying at its core: despite any human activity nature enigmatically behaves well enough on its own, even if we find ourselves questioning why people incomprehensibly end up as collateral damage.
The real conflict for people is the battle amongst themselves and with others. Nature is not out to seek revenge, though there is a good chance that it may achieve something like it someday.
