I’m breaking my norm this week by reviewing a movie that was released last year but had no theatrical showings around here. I had the chance to screen Wim Wenders’s Perfect Days earlier this year during awards season, and it was easily one of the best movies that I watched. I never had a chance to write about it, but now that it’s streaming on Hulu, I decided that it’s time to give it a proper review.
Hirayama (Kôji Yakusho) is a janitor for the public restrooms in Tokyo. Each day, he wakes up, trims his mustache, mists his plants, gets a drink from the vending machine outside of his apartment, and drives into the city to clean toilets. While at work, he listens to his coworker Takashi (Tokio Emoto) talk about whatever he has going on. He eats a solitary lunch, taking pictures of the light filtering through the trees. He goes home, bathes, reads, and dreams of what happened each day. One day, he comes home, only to be greeted by his niece, Niko (Arisa Nakano), a young woman searching for meaning in life, hoping to find it with her distant uncle.
Often, in films, when we see a character repeating a series of events over and over, it conveys stagnation or drudgery. In Perfect Days, however, we sense that this repetition is calming for Hirayama. We see a man who lives alone but is never depicted as lonely.
While there is a cast of characters that orbit around Hiayama, this film hinges entirely on the performance of Yakusho. Yakusho rarely speaks, but the delivery of his few lines is powerful. But more than that, Yakusho offers so much subtlety in his facial expressions that you understand him entirely, even without dialogue. The final shot of the film is a close-up of Hirayama’s face as he listens to Nina Simone’s Feeling Good, and the breadth of emotion on display is staggering.
This is a slow movie, to be sure, but it is never boring. Wenders forces you to care about a man who is meticulous about every aspect of his life, whether it’s using a mirror to clean the edges of a toilet or placing all of his belongings just so in order to have them at the ready for the next day. We observe, along with Hirayama, the oblivion of those around him, but also the small moments of joy. A tiny sprouting tree, a dancing homeless man, a game of tic-tac-toe. The classic rock soundtrack adds to the sense that this is someone who lives outside of the time that he is placed in.
In one scene, Hirayama and Niko are biking. She asks him if they can follow the river to the ocean, and he tells her next time. She begins to insist that he tell her when the next time is, but Hirayama simply repeats, “Now is now. Next time is next time.”
If you are feeling overwhelmed or exhausted by everything going on in the world, perhaps hearing those words will be the balm that you need. Next time is next time. Now is now. And now you need to watch Perfect Days.
This review originally appeared in The Dominion Post on August 3, 2024.