When was the last time you said thank you to your mailman? How about a security guard? Or even, say, a janitor? Caught up in the fast pace of city life, many look down upon humble members of the working class as the ones stuck doing life’s menial labor. In a world where you play the cards you’ve been dealt, these people must endure a sh*tty hand. However, in truth, there is much to discover about these hidden heroes of our world, those who each construct a piece of the convenience that keeps us running throughout the day. There is nothing to scoff at, nothing to bemoan about these kind souls, in fact, there is grace, dignity, and beauty to what they do and the lives they live outside of it, big or small. Whether or not director Wim Wenders intended this as the main message behind his latest film, Perfect Days, it is the driving force behind what makes it such a quietly joyous piece of slice-of-life cinema.
Selected as Japan’s Oscar entry for Best International Feature Film, Perfect Days follows Hirayama (Kôji Yakusho), a quiet toilet cleaner living in Tokyo, Japan. Were you to explain this film’s events to a friend, it doesn’t sound glamorous: the majority see Hirayama cleaning toilets with careful attention to detail and a sensitivity toward patrons around him. He spends a good amount of the film alone going about his day – when he isn’t cleaning toilets, he enjoys taking and developing photographs, caring for his homemade greenhouse, and reading his latest literary discovery (points to Wenders for his inclusion of William Faulkner). Though he interacts with other characters, he rarely speaks. It is, on its face, the opposite of cinematic. And yet, despite these odds, the film is immediately compelling and likely more cinematic than most blockbusters.
Much of this is because of Yakusho, who won Best Actor at Cannes for his performance, and rightfully so. Within merely a few scenes, it is clear that this character has a deep appreciation for all of the things we take for granted. Following his morning routine, which involves rolling up his sparse bedding and grooming his facial hair, Hirayama steps outside and takes the day in. With a deep breath and smile, we immediately read Hirayama’s charm and humility; this man is up at the crack of dawn to scrub piss off of toilets. And yet, he is ready to take on the day in stride. As he undergoes his morning commute, Hirayama slides an audio cassette tape into his van’s vintage player, soon accompanied by the strums of, fittingly, “House of the Rising Sun.” Wenders’ soundtrack is littered with many classic songs, from “Brown Eyed Girl” to “Feeling Good,” needle drops you’ve heard a million times. Yet, through the ears of Hirayama and set against the gorgeous cityscapes of present-day Tokyo, they feel sublime.
Through just the subtlest of actions and interests, Wenders portrays Hirayama with great dignity. His interest in photography, reading, and music makes him likable, but it’s how he treats others that makes him lovable. Throughout his routine, we see some of his fellow servicepeople hard at their own work: a kind restaurant server, an insightful librarian, and a caring chef at a local dive. He treats each one with respect and appreciation, from a kind tip to an open ear; it’s all small gestures, but done with such care in Yakusho’s performance that they feel meaningful. Hirayama even extends grace to those who aren’t deserving of it, specifically his humorously pitiful co-worker, Takashi (Tokio Emoto). One scene sees the two travel to a music store to potentially sell Hirayama’s cassette tapes, which prove to be valuable. Takashi only wants the money so he can secure time with his crush, Aya (Aoi Yamada), while she’s on duty at a girl’s club. Takashi makes a big stink when Hirayama refuses to sell the tape, only for Hirayama to lend him the money anyway. This leaves him without money for gas, but he doesn’t complain. In fact, he sells his tape in the end so he can get home.
Hirayama’s characterization reaches a peak when his niece, Niko (Arisa Nakano), unexpectedly runs away from home and arrives on Hirayama’s doorstep. The kind-hearted sanitation worker is immediately hospitable – even giving Niko his meager bed for an even lesser accommodation – and even spends a day or two showing her how he spends his days. There’s never any judgment, likely because, through an interaction with Niko’s mother/Hirayama’s sister Keiko (Yumi Asô) when she arrives to pick her up, it is revealed Hirayama has a fraught relationship with his family. The specifics are left largely ambiguous, but the heartbreaking implications of the scene are clear. Hirayama chose to live his life, one that many others have difficulty understanding, but one that he lives proudly. This isn’t to say the character is without fault (certain scenes highlight his frustrations, as we all succumb to from time to time), rather that Wenders’ script, co-written with co-producer Takuma Takasaki, renders Hirayama’s complexity with incredible sensitivity and honesty.
In a world that is so hyper-isolated and lacking connection post-pandemic, Perfect Days feels like a quality antidote, finding beauty in the connections we make and the kindness we share. Every moment in the film, from details large to small, echoes its themes and more thoroughly carves a beautiful corner for itself in the often belabored genre of slice-of-life cinema. Not a line or moment is wasted and, as a result, the tiniest dramatic beats feel like major revelations. It is unclear whether this film will ultimately be recognized by the Oscars in what is a crowded year for international cinema, but whatever its fate may be, nothing will take away from it being one of the year’s best films.
Perfect Days was recently shortlisted for Best International Feature Film at the 2024 Academy Awards. It will begin its theatrical rollout on February 7, 2024, courtesy of NEON.
Wim Wenders' piece of slice-of-life cinema is the genre at its finest, grounded by a meaningful story and a masterfully empathetic performance from Kôji Yakusho.
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GVN Rating 10
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Larry Fried is a filmmaker, writer, and podcaster based in New Jersey. He is the host and creator of the podcast “My Favorite Movie is…,” a podcast dedicated to helping filmmakers make somebody’s next favorite movie. He is also the Visual Content Manager for Special Olympics New Jersey, an organization dedicated to competition and training opportunities for athletes with intellectual disabilities across the Garden State.