There are few films as meditative and rhythmic as what Wim Wenders managed to achieve here with Perfect Days. Known for his past documentaries and dramas, this German auteur presents a celebration of living a beautifully present life that is fresh out of Cannes and was selected to compete for the Palme d’Or, where it won two awards including Best Actor for its lead: Koji Yakusho.
Set in modern Tokyo, Yakusho plays Hirayama-san, an elderly gentleman that cleans public toilets, whilst leading a mostly solitary life reading books, listening to music, and snapping photos of nature. Eventually, this humble hermit encounters a series of supporting characters, including his niece, who helps shed light on this fascinating enigma of a man.
Aside from having one of the least pretentious plots I’ve ever read for a film on the festival circuit, Perfect Days present a sublimely down-to-earth examination on leading a compassionate and solitary lifestyle in modern Tokyo. Providing a compelling fictional character study of gerontology notwithstanding, the film’s greatest strength (almost to a fault) lies in the conviction of its narrative structure.
The film goes through Hirayama-san’s day ins and outs like utter clockwork. You see the guy wake up, get ready for the day, work his unassuming butt off scrubbing those toilets, grab a bite, finish his shift, drive around Tokyo, and then get back home for an early night-in reading Patricia Highsmith before bed.
Once lights are out, the viewer gets capped with an abstract imagery montage sequence as if you’re dreaming with our protagonist where his subconscious reorganises and reflects on the day he just had. And then the next day arises and you’ll bunny hop through his day, again and again, garnished at the day’s tail end with varying dreamy imagery sequences favouring a certain theory or two on why we dream.
There’s an admirable determination in the film’s resolve to maintain its strict pacing. One could argue it makes the variations of events across the days all the more intimate, impactful, and poignant for the viewer’s beholding. Yet occasionally, side story elements feel more superficial than meaningful to the overall plot. Without spoiling too much, breadcrumbs of lingering B-story elements don’t always get the emotional payoff or closure that you’d expect after its continuous uncoincidental inclusion in our protagonist’s life day in and day out.
That being said, you can definitely see the basis of (at least) four short stories sprinkled across the tapestry of the film’s plot. It’s a tough juggling act in storytelling cohesion. Thankfully, most of its inclusion has enough significance on reclusive Hirayama-san’s character development to warrant their home in the film’s overall story. While so many films fall victim to over-encumbered plots resulting in unwieldy storylines that have the frenzy-like sense of pumping out a uni assignment the night before its due – it’s refreshing to see an interwoven plot handled with such delicate care and finesse even if it stumbles a bit along the way.
Hirayama-san loves to put on the occasional diegetic pop music tune in his day-to-day adventures. These iconic songs ranging from Nina Simone to The Animals serve as cute little period pieces for their respective day or two of Hirayama-san’s life. They’re a nifty, albeit not-so-subtle (down to its lyrics) way to communicate how Hirayama is feeling at any given moment. Some may argue this feels forced or a tad cheesy north of lazy storytelling. I’d say this captures a feeling of daily micro-zeitgeist that embellishes a tale where every day is cerebral and worth its storytelling weight in gold.
The film is shot in a 4:3 aspect ratio, which seems like all the rage now if you want to be artistically spicy in cinematography. The sheer frankness of its tighter square-like frame is used to great effect here. Shot compositions really draw out the busy little details of Tokyo’s natural aesthetics and urban charm as well as the performances of our cast.
Koji Yakusho’s performance of Hirayama is an inspiring execution of delicate micro-expressions and disciplined restraint. Yakusho’s charisma and expression have an effortlessness and sincerity that rings true to a man of his resolute age. Her niece (played by Arisa Nakano) is a real stand-out as Hirayama’s first real portal to his past life. Her coming-of-age innocence and kindness in personality pair wonderfully with Hirayama’s more reserved demeanour. It’s in these candid and chemistry-woven performance exchanges that we get to see her uncle open up to her niece like a key unlocking a treasure chest of immense character development.
Cinema is a mirror by which we often see ourselves. I never would’ve thought I’d be so immersed in the life of an elderly dude cleaning toilets that made me examine how I lead my life. Whilst the film’s many subplots don’t always earn its relevancy, the meaningful incorporation of the ones that do, strike a profound mark that successfully unravels a quiet man living life for the moment. Perfect Days presents a heart-warming tableau about living a compassionate life in the present.
FOUR STARS (OUT OF FIVE)
Perfect Days is showing on June 21st and 22nd as part of Sydney Film Festival’s Back by Popular Demand extended run. For more information, head to the official SFF page.