BY JOHN MCDONALD APRIL 15, 2024
Wim Wenders is an auteur filmmaker of the highest order, with his mix of poignant landscapes and gorgeous visuals often surrounding lonely or tragic characters. His work as a photographer often spills into his films, with each one harnessing a variety of simplistic beauty while accompanied by carefully structured but transient scores. Paris, Texas has long been considered his crowning glory, and it’s easy to see why, with its depiction of loneliness and guilt being something that resonates with so many. However, Wenders's latest film, Perfect Days, might just rival the former as the director’s most impressive piece.
Often following similar trends to Paris, Texas, Perfect Days follows the everyday life of a humble Tokyo toilet cleaner, but the backdrop of the city, the mystery of the man, and the exquisitely chosen score are what transcends the film to soaring heights.
SYNOPSIS
Hirayama feels content with his life as a toilet cleaner in Tokyo. Outside of his structured routine, he cherishes music on cassette tapes, reads books and takes photos. Through unexpected encounters, he reflects on finding beauty in the world.
REVIEW
There’s something about a routine that feels comfortable to us, is it because we love what's familiar? Or maybe it's because change, to so many out there, is intimidating and alien for life’s simple folk. For the film’s protagonist, Hirayama (played by the brilliant Japanese actor Kōji Yakusho) it’s the monotony of routine that keeps his life in check and allows him to live a peacefully structure life. Hirayama is a Tokyo toilet cleaner (not the most glamorous of jobs but someone’s got to do it) who is the Da Vinci of the toilet cleaning industry. The early starts, the grooming of himself and his plants, the same coffee from the vending machine, and that accustomed commute he takes to work every day are all part of his pattern of life. Patterns can be relaxing and hypnotic, and Hirayama is in a soft, trance-like cycle that has now become customary.
Life is not without its curveballs though, and as we follow Hirayama around Tokyo’s suburbs, he must deal with unexpected surprises that shake up his beloved routine. Whether it’s people from his past (a past that is so incredibly mysterious and leaves you asking countless questions), a difficult co-worker, a lost child, or nuanced interactions
with fellow characters of tragic means. For someone like Hirayama though, it’s all stuff to be taken in your stride, and just being able to get up in the morning, the same as every morning, is life’s blessing, and one that should be cherished and taken advantage of in the only way he knows possible.
It feels very tepid when you summarize the film like that, but it’s the simplicity of it which makes it so beautiful. The method in which the city is captured is lovely too, with Wenders once again using his experience in still photography to great effect. You could pause this film at any point and get such a varied catalogue of Tokyo, as well as the overriding theme of solitude that encompasses the story. Whether it’s the dusk mornings inside Hirayama’s uncomplicated house, or during his many moments of tranquillity at his favourite lunchtime eating spot, each shot showcases something different – it results in a collage of indescribable skill and technique that makes these supposedly slower films an absolute joy to experience.
Music is a wonderful motif for the film as well, which isn’t exactly a common occurrence for Wenders either – not in the way this one is structured at least. It becomes a key aspect in offering a little bit more detail into the character of Hirayama because, apart from these carefully chosen songs, he is a man of mystery. What a collection of anthems it is as well by the way; old classics featuring the iconic voices of Patti Smith, Bill Withers, Nina Simone, and especially Lou Reed, whose song ‘Perfect Day’ (which plays during the picture) is what the film’s title was likely modelled off. It is not necessarily the individual songs that have great meaning, but it’s the era itself in which so many of these great songs were born and Hirayama’s fondness for cassettes that has the most importance. Wenders himself recalls that “He [Hirayama] is clinging a little bit to his youth and the music he loved” with the selection of these songs that he cherishes.
The minimalistic approach to Perfect Days takes direct influence from Japanese director Yasujirō Ozu. The essence that surrounds the film smells similar to that of Tokyo Story and An Autumn Afternoon in the way it takes us on a guided tour of Tokyo, but instead of the tourist trail, we are treated to one that leads down back streets and beneath train stations where only a handful of people linger. The stark contrast between Hirayama’s humble establishment east of the Sumida River compared to the more affluent Shibuya Ward is also important when trying to get a better understanding of the people that Hirayama represents, and what the film, in the same fashion as its influences, is trying to showcase.
Perfect Days is put together so well and so poignantly sweet that it could be deemed as an advertisement for an alternative way of life. Who wouldn’t love to change things up a bit: move to the edge of society and live a quiet life of solitude? Maybe not in the same manner as Hirayama, but of course, that is just one of the many answers to that question. What even is the perfect life? Is it a high-flying existence of money and the looming dread of stress that is soon to follow, or is it as simple as being happy and finding pride in something, even if that thing is cleaning toilets? Wenders use of cassettes and actual physical film in his camera is a nod towards his own life too, and the simple essence of yesteryear, which would mean that Perfect Days is Wender’s most personal and meaningful film of his catalogue.
STAR RATING
