Días perfectos

I have never seen a more authentic movie. This movie does whatever the hell it pleases. It's not here to live up to any expectations or to serve a specific purpose; no, it's here because it feels like it wants to be here, and we are fortunate enough to be included in its existence.

This film is about a man who truly lives in the moment without being some spiritual guru. He deals with whatever comes his way, the good, the bad and the ugly, and he welcomes it without words. That's because he doesn't need words. He doesn't need to analyze, remember or anticipate because "now is now". He accepts and embraces reality, finding joy in every little detail. But also not shying away from sorrow. But he never gets dramatic.

And that's why this movie is so unique. There is no plot, there is no past full of hurt, there is no goal, there is no desire. Yet, it was mesmerizing, and I was glued to the screen. I was blown away. It's a movie that will stick with me for a long time.

Greetings again from the darkness. For most folks, life is a constant battle each and every day as we attempt to avoid the chaos stemming from work, health, friends, family, and overall stress. Sometimes we kid ourselves into thinking we have things under control, but inevitably, a sharp reminder pops up letting us know "control" is a mirage, and life is meant to be more rollercoaster than smooth sailing. Longtime writer-director Wim Wenders and co-writer Takuma Takasaki have teamed up for this Oscar nominated film depicting one man's attempt to control his life.

Veteran actor Koji Yakusho stars as Hirayama. He's the proverbial creature of habit, which the first 45 minutes of the movie prove. We see him rise from sleep in his simple, well-organized apartment. He spritzes his plants, smiles at the sky, and drives his van to his job as a sanitation worker in the city. The logo on his jumpsuit is The Tokyo Toilet and we follow him on his rounds as he scrubs the public toilets ... each structure more artistic than the last. When he pauses for rest, Hirayama takes photos of trees with his camera. Taking pride in his work, this man of few words, has found serenity in his routine which includes nighttime reading (Faulkner, Koda, and even Patricia Highsmith). While driving his van, Hirayama utilizes his carefully selected collection of cassette tapes to provide the classic rock he loves (The Kinks, Lou Reed, etc).

Generational and personality differences are apparent when contrasting Hirayama and his young assistant Takashi (Tokio Emoto). As the elder works towards a job well done, Takashi plays on his phone, flirts with a girl, a strives only for a job done so that he can move on to the more enjoyable evenings. The two are not friends, but the elder does seem to understand the desires and anxiousness of the younger man. At night, Hirayama does his reading and then dreams ... visions we see in black and white, many which seem to relate to nature's beauty of the trees he photographs each day.

When one is so meticulous about the steps for each day, it takes little to shake his world. It could be the actions of his co-worker, a kiss on the cheek, a recurring homeless man in the park, and certainly, the arrival of his teenage niece after she runs away from home. When his sister arrives to take the girl back, we sense the strain in their relationship - something from the past that still lingers. It's these minor blips, along with an odd game of 'shadow tag' that shake Hirayama's routine and open him (back) up to life's ups and downs. At first, we believe Wenders is showing us the difference between alone and lonely, as this man seems quite content. But the final shot is of Hirayama's awakening and acceptance, or at least acknowledgment, of the emotions to be found in uncertainty. It's a wonderful film, beautifully directed, and expertly acted. "Perfect Day" by Lou Reed and "Feeling Good" by Nina Simone are two of the standout songs featured here.

In theaters beginning February 7, 2024.

Japan's history, traditions, architecture both traditional and Neo, and its unique vibe and aesthetic have always intrigued me. So i might be a bit biased in my rating.

Perfect Days is the kind of movie that makes you rethink your life choices-like why you've never considered becoming a public toilet cleaner in Tokyo. Wim Wenders serves up a beautifully slow-paced film where the most exciting thing that happens is a guy cleaning a toilet... and somehow, it's mesmerizing. Koji Yakusho nails the role of a man who is content with the simple pleasures in life like books, music, and perfectly scrubbed porcelain. It's like The Joy of Painting meets Toilet Scrubbing 101, but with deep life lessons sprinkled in.

By the end, you'll be questioning why you're not appreciating the small things in your life or at least why your bathroom isn't as spotless.

Years ago i took my friend's daughter to see a movie adaptation of 'the secret garden' because i wanted to share a book i had loved as a child. When my mom asked what she thought of the movie, her response was 'mostly... it was about a garden.' well, 'perfect days' is mostly about a man who cleans toilets - albeit with extreme efficiency and thoroughness. He has a simple, well-ordered existence that follows a comfortable routine until people start inserting themselves into his life.

This is not an action-packed bombastic story, but you may find yourself thinking about your own life and envying someone who greets each new day with a smile. A well-deserved best actor prize for koji yakusho at the 2023 cannes film festival.

In 1985, Wim Wenders released 'Tokya-Ga', a love letter to the films of Yasujirô Ozu and the city of Tokyo. In that documentary, Wenders captured a portrait of the city as one under the thrall of Americanized homogenization, in many respects far removed from the Tokyo Ozu put on film. Now, nearly forty years later, Wenders' beautifully subtle 'Perfect Days' can be seen not just as a homage to the work of Ozu but to a Tokyo that once seemed forever lost to capitalist coalescence.

A quiet, poignant character study, 'Perfect Days' follows Hirayama, a middle-aged public toilet cleaner as he goes about his business in Tokyo. A man of few words and great tranquillity, Hirayama leads a simple life, never straying from his established routines. A series of encounters- with his young assistant and Aya, the girl he is courting, his niece Niko and the proprietress of a bar- leads Hirayama to reevaluate his situation; to look with fresh eyes upon his place within Japan's capital.

The film is a fascinating, contemplative piece of depth and heart. The narrative- written by Wenders and Takuma Takasaki- is deceptively simple, commenting on life and society in general, as well as in Japan. By making the central character a toilet cleaner who is, for the most part, ignored by those around him, Wenders seems to be commenting on the callousness of modern society. Most people do not thank Hirayama, nor do they even acknowledge his presence, taking the fruits of his labour for granted.

Hirayama takes great pride in his work, never leaving a toilet less than spotless. As most ignore him, the few, small moments of recognition he receives contain great power; they become amplified. This, in fact, is where the key to the film's impact lies. Wenders and Takasaki make Hirayama's life so endlessly mundane that the slightest change becomes an immense piece of action. He is so reserved; the smallest smile contains bounteous meaning. His lack of a definitive backstory makes him all the more enigmatic, and his relationships with others all the more compelling. Ozu did similarly effective work, weaving rich tapestries of human experience out of the everyday; as Wenders's film does masterfully.

As Hirayama navigates the bustling streets of Tokyo, his experiences serve as a mirror to his inner world. The young assistant, Takashi, represents the new generation's obliviousness to the traditions and struggles of their predecessors, while Aya embodies the potential for connection and change. His niece and the proprietress of the bar offer contrasting perspectives on the role of women in a society that's in flux, caught between past expectations and future possibilities.

The Tokyo that frames Hirayama's existence is a character in itself, pulsating with life, yet marked by the solitude of its inhabitants. Wenders captures the dichotomy of a metropolis that's both alienating and intimate, where the hum of the city can drown out the individual while also drawing out their deepest reflections. Finding beauty in places and things most would overlook, Wenders invites viewers to pause and consider the unnoticed, the unappreciated and the unspoken externals that shape our lives.

Moreover, the film is a visual delight. Aside from the thematic similarities, Wenders incorporates many stylistic elements often seen in Ozu's work, both compounding the impact of the film and its function as a homage. Wenders and cinematographer Franz Lustig subtly honour Ozu's cinematic style through the use of the 'tatami shot,' offering a low, intimate view that draws the audience into Hirayama's world.

Similarly, the utilisation of 'pillow shots'- brief, poetic cutaways to elements of the environment that serve as transitions between scenes- echo Ozu's tranquil interludes, inviting reflection. These techniques not only pay tribute to Ozu but also enrich the film's narrative, highlighting the profound in the ordinary-a hallmark of both directors' storytelling.

Beyond its visual artistry, the film delves into the cultural fabric of contemporary Japan. Through the portrayal of Hirayama's humble profession, Wenders subtly examines the nuances of Japan's work ethic and the societal value placed on cleanliness and order. Set against Tokyo's evolving landscape, the film navigates the delicate balance between cultural preservation and modernization- a universal urban narrative.

The film emerges at a pivotal moment as Japan confronts its global identity. It strikes a chord with viewers, highlighting the quest for purpose in a uniform world and the significance of society's unsung roles. Wenders crafts a tale that, while rooted in Tokyo's reality, speaks to a collective experience, urging audiences worldwide to appreciate their own cultural dynamics.

The film's score further elevates its contemplative atmosphere, while the eclectic soundtrack mirrors Hirayama's internal journey. From the nostalgic strains of 'The House of the Rising Sun' by The Animals to the introspective 'Pale Blue Eyes' by The Velvet Underground, each song is carefully chosen to reflect Hirayama's mood and the changing rhythms of Tokyo. Wenders' selection of music- including tracks such as Nina Simone's 'Feeling Good' and Lou Reed's 'Perfect Day'- not only underscores the narrative but also serves as a homage to the central character's personal history and the city's diverse soundscape.

Koji Yakusho stars as Hirayama, supported by Tokio Emoto as Takashi, Aoi Yamada as Aya and Arisa Nakano as his niece Niko. Arguably the finest actor of his generation both in and outside of Japan, Yakusho delivers a performance of nuance, great profundity and depth. It is a stunning piece of work, that demands attention and deserves plaudits. He carries the film with a remarkable ease and sensitivity, working brilliantly with his co-stars. Emoto brings a welcome comedic energy as the lackadaisical Takashi, while Yamada delivers a subtle yet impactful performance as Aya, adding layers of complexity to the narrative, challenging the protagonist to step beyond his comfort zone.

Nakano, in her third role, is terrific. Like Yakusho, she has the ability to convey deep emotions with minimal dialogue, impressing greatly. Alongside them, Sayuri Ishikawa and Tomokazu Miura are marvellous, as the bar proprietress and Tomoyama, a man who crosses paths with Hirayama. Both do sterling work in small but pivotal roles, appearing in two of the most memorable and emotionally resonant scenes in the film.

In conclusion, Wim Wender's 'Perfect Days' is a remarkable piece of work. A quiet but impactful character study, as well as a homage to the work of Yasujirô Ozu, the film is full of depth and power. Boasting a strong narrative, stunning visuals and a stirring score, it works on every level. The performances from the cast are all excellent, with Koji Yakusho's central one a masterpiece in understatement. In short, this frankly flawless slow burn is about as close to perfect as a film can get.