Rent Perfect Days (2023)

It's OK, not great - Perfect Days review by LC

Given the hype around this film, I was pretty disappointed. What some people have described as the protagonists "zen-like" lifestyle just came across as mundane and boring. Very little happens, and those events are repeated every day in the film. I also found the choice of music to be completely out of place, it was definitely a Wim Wenders favorite soundtrack rather than anything the character would genuinely listen to. Eventually it all peters out to no effect at all. I'm aware that Wenders films are slow-burners, but this is no Paris, Texas.

Gentle & meditative study of simple pleasures - Perfect Days review by PD

Lou Reed’s rock standard “Perfect Day” does make an appearance - on the protagonist’s stereo as suitably ideal sunlight pours into his small, neat Tokyo apartment, before heading out into the city on a calm weekend afternoon. If that sounds a little basic, said protagonist Hirayama — a mellow, soft-spoken toilet cleaner beautifully played by Koji Yakusho — would probably agree, for he’s into simple pleasures. His solitary life is built around the things that make him happy and the work that keeps him solvent; he’s not inclined to wonder what other people make of it. Wenders’ film, in turn, is sincere and unassuming, and whilst a little too sentimental for my taste, nevertheless ultimately wins you over.

The film finds its maker in unusually uncomplicated form: it hasn’t the spiritual philosophy of “Wings of Desire” or the penetrating poetry of human desolation that marked “Paris, Texas.” But its humane, hopeful embrace of everyday blessings is enough to make it Wenders’ most approachable film for some time. There’s something of a documentarian’s eye to the film’s patient examination of process and routine, as it follows Hirayama on his daily rounds with minimal fuss or incident. Hirayama has a fixed cleaning rota, shared with younger slacker colleague Takashi, that covers the public loos in the city parks of Tokyo's smart Shibuya ward (the distinctly non-cliched presentation of Tokyo is one of the film's features). They are largely taken for granted by their often caught-short customers, as is Hirayama himself, used to being silently brushed past as if he, too, were a mere facility. But he clearly takes pleasure in the job's methodical regularity, just as he enjoys his daily lunch breaks in the same outdoor spot or his daily post-work drink at the same busy commuter bar. Weekends, with bicycle trips to the laundromat, the bookshop, and a small restaurant run by cheerfully nurturing Mama, are different but just as contentedly regimented. But when Niko, the teenage daughter of his estranged sister Keiko, turns up unannounced on his doorstep and decides to stay a few days, the ensuing disruptions to his routine also expose what a deliberate construction that routine is in the first place: a defence against a past life he doesn’t want back, whilst a charged encounter with a stranger at the end of the film culminates in a literal shadow-dance of unbidden, childlike playfulness. A distinctly low-key, but enjoyable watch.