‘Perfect Days’ Review
More and more, it seems people want to cut loose from responsibility and strip their lives down to the bare essentials. Despite technological advancements, we cling to the past and the simple pleasures that restrict themselves from being overwhelming. Wim Wenders contends with this desire in his latest film, Perfect Days, and comes out the other end with one of the most rewarding experiences for the soul and a reminder of life’s beauty hidden in plain sight. Brought to realization by Koji Yakusho’s tender, introspective performance, Perfect Days isn’t just a zen-like exercise in minimalism - it’s the balm needed amidst neverending chaos.
There is a gentle momentum to Wenders and Takuma Takasaki’s screenplay, consisting of threads slowly becoming entangled as Hirayama (Yakusho) spends his time running through the same routine day after day in an attempt to maintain a comfortable, minimalist lifestyle. There’s no stress in Hirayama’s life. He works as a janitor, cleaning public restrooms across Tokyo and listening to classic rock music on cassette as he drives between destinations. When he finishes, he follows the same post-work routine. His weekends are no different as he fills them with more routines. He picks up a new book to read for the week and settles himself down at the same bar at night. He enjoys the tactile pleasures of life, made most apparent in his nurturing of saplings that he finds throughout his day-to-day or the love he holds for his cassette collection.
It’s the small inconveniences and complications that cannot be avoided in life that cause Wenders’ film to feel more tense than its premise suggests. Hirayama’s simple life feels like a detachment from something else, and while he seems to stroll through moments being able to appreciate the small details that others ignore, he is also a creature of habit who now tries to ignore the world leaving him behind. Or is it that the world has already left him behind, and he’s just found a respite from the chaos? If Perfect Days was just about a human connecting with the world around him, that would be an enjoyable enough experience thanks to Yakusho’s delightful performance and the small eccentricities that comprise his day. Instead, Perfect Days is one of the most beautiful interrogations of the life we crave in the pursuit of happiness.
So much has been said about seeking minimalism in life and the idea that de-cluttering is the answer to our problems. Wenders and Takasaki’s screenplay posits that minimalism is not a solution but a rehabilitation. Hirayama’s deliberate choice to slow life down and take in the moments often lost to a hectic pace, and focus on personal needs before becoming involved in others’ lives is therapeutic more than it is a philosophy. It’s something you do when you need to re-evaluate what it is in your life that truly matters. Much of Hirayama’s life is obfuscated by the moments spent with him as we watch him seemingly in the happiest place of his life - his perfect days if you will. There’s a bubble he’s built around him, and he can account for a couple of inconveniences, but as Perfect Days slowly complicates Hirayama’s life, it highlights the impossible: living in the past when life is constantly moving forward.
There’s an equilibrium between the screenplay and the breezy presentation of Hirayama’s life that rests heavily on Koji Yakusho’s portrayal of the quiet janitor. There’s a bit of a stoic quality where it’s hard to grasp what is running through his head during some moments, but is what makes Hirayama one of the most endearing characters in recent memory. When he smiles, it’s pure happiness breaking through the hardened exterior. The simple act of sharing a song he really likes with a stranger and them saying they like it is enough to brighten his day. It’s a performance imbued with sentimentality, stubbornness, and care that leaves Hirayama as one of Yakusho’s greatest performances in a career already stacked with iconic acting.
The most shocking element of Perfect Days is that it can hurt almost as much as it enriches. The tightrope that the screenplay walks maintains itself until the final shot, in which your interpretation of Hirayama and the events that unfold are presented back to you for reflection. Left on a denouement that puts a fine point on its themes of escapism through minimalism, Wenders delivers an affecting conclusion to an already blissful cinematic experience. Perfect Days revels in its life-affirming message while still prodding at what it means to truly connect with nature, humanity, and the interconnected world we’ve created.
