A Japanese Film That Will Leave You Smiling: 'Perfect Days' Review
I've been putting off writing a review of the German-Japanese film 'Perfect Days' for ages, and it's been stuck in my watchlist for just as long. The reason I've been holding off is that I like to watch movies like this in peace and quiet, without any distractions or interruptions. It's one of those films that demands a special kind of attention and focus.
After the COVID-19 restrictions were lifted in Japan, producer Koji Yaegashi invited director Wim Wenders to Tokyo to discuss the project, The Tokio Toilet, which had been underway since 2020. As part of this project, 17 innovative public toilets were built in the Shibuya district with the support of the Nippon Foundation. The toilets were designed by 16 world-class architects and designers. Initially, the producers thought Wenders would make a short film or a series of shorts about these facilities, but he decided to go for a feature-length film instead. Co-writer Takuma Takasaki explained that the concept of the character Hira Yamada was a new territory for them. The film was produced by Master Mind Limited (Japan) and Spoon Inc. (Japan) in collaboration with Wenders Images.
I've gotta say, the main character in this film is Hirayama, a janitor who takes pride in keeping Tokyo's public toilets spick and span. Every day, this seasoned pro approaches his job with a sense of responsibility, a keen eye for detail, and a dedication that's truly impressive. What strikes me is his calm demeanor, even when customers come and go. He's not in a rush, and he takes his time to make sure every surface is spotless. I mean, have you ever seen someone scrub away at a toilet bowl with such precision? He even uses a mini-magnifying glass on a long handle to check for any lingering stains on the rim. And his cleaning arsenal in his van? It's like a treasure trove of cleaning solutions, powders, sponges, mops, and more. What's fascinating is that watching him clean toilets in Tokyo isn't something you'd normally find entertaining, but it's actually quite captivating, educational, and even meditative.
I've gotta say, the whole film is infused with the director's love for Eastern culture and philosophy, which emphasizes peace, acceptance, order, and respect for all living things on earth. But, it takes it a step further than your typical Japanese films on the subject: it shows a REAL person, who's not perfect and can lose their balance - you know, that famous Japanese equilibrium and calmness. This guy's sensitive, vulnerable, and can be thrown off by external coldness and balance. He's got 'system glitches' and, in my opinion, that's what makes him so great! On screen, you're not watching a robot, but a real person - and that's what makes it so awesome!
I was blown away by the film's 96% approval rating on Rotten Tomatoes, based on 166 reviews with an average score of 8.3 out of 10. The critics on the site rave about it, saying it's a captivating drama about life, led by the incredible Koji Yakusho. They call 'Perfect Days' a quietly brilliant gem in the director's impressive filmography and co-writer Wim Wenders'.
Metacritic gives it a score of 80 out of 100, based on 37 critic reviews, indicating 'generally favorable' reviews. FIPRESCI member Sin Wang calls it a life's work by Wim Wenders. Nastasya Gorbatchevskaya from Film.ru gave it an 8 out of 10, saying it's 'cinema of filled and meaningful silence'.
There are a few pivotal moments in the film that really stood out to me: the scene with the crying kid who gets lost in the park restroom, the fleeting moment of Aya, Takashi's partner, and Hirauma's sister, Hirauma, experiencing a rush of emotions and feelings, their meeting with Niko's niece, and then later with Hirauma's sister, Keiko, after a long separation, the game of tic-tac-toe between Hirauma and a stranger in the restroom, the quirky relationship with the charming bar owner, and the final act of the film.
The scene with the lost kid, which Hirauma finds, really resonated with me. His worried mother's behavior is something many people can relate to. Even today, there's a prejudiced, condescending, and sometimes even dismissive attitude towards people in service jobs. janitors and cleaners are often overlooked, treated as if they're machines or robots, pedestrians and customers walk past them as if they're invisible. The same attitude is shown by the mother of the lost kid, who didn't even thank Hirauma for his kindness and instead displayed a shocking lack of manners and entitlement, all while pretentiously wiping her son's hands with wet wipes, which had come into contact with the janitor's hands.
I think the scene where Aya, Takashi's partner, returns the cassette to the guy who stole it from her is beautiful and innocent. She asks him to listen to the song one last time in the car, and she's overcome with emotion, crying, and then kisses Hirauma, but I think it's not just a gesture of gratitude. She's appreciated the guy's musical taste and inner qualities, seen a kindred spirit in him. Hirauma's soul responded immediately to this gesture, and it's like he's blossomed!
Hanging out with my niece Nico years later was a real heartwarmer. It brought new meaning to my life, and painted the 'perfect days' with vibrant colors. She's a lot like her ascetic uncle - loves reading, observing, photography, music, and has no air of superiority, indifference, or pretentiousness. She respects her uncle and his work, and is wise and kind... I love the conversations we have while cycling:
- This world is made up of countless worlds. They're connected, yet separate. My world is nothing like my mom's.
- And what about me? Where do I live?
Having a sister is a mixed bag - it's amazing, it's frustrating, and it throws a wrench in your carefully laid plans. When the people closest to you, but still so far away, leave, you can't help but burst into tears. These are tears of a pain that's hard to explain, a pain that's rooted in my past struggles with my dad. They're tears of guilt for having to say goodbye to my little sister, tears of love for her, and tears of acceptance that we're living in different worlds that will never intersect. But most of all, they're tears of joy that I'm alive and free, and it's all because I made the right decision to cut ties with my family. That's what's kept me true to myself.
When life starts to unravel, all the emotions come flooding in. I see this in Hira Yamada, a guy who's living life to the fullest. When he loses his partner and has to work double-time, he's fed up and demands a replacement for Takashi ASAP. I love his spirit and self-respect - he's not afraid to speak up for himself and his boundaries. That's what I call a man!
One of the funniest moments in the movie is when Hira Yamada finds a note in the toilet stall proposing a game of tic-tac-toe. He doesn't immediately respond, but eventually picks up the game. It's a great example of how communication can be as simple as a game of chance.
I've got to say, the romance between Hirayama and the bar owner is palpable. It's clear to me that the authors are hinting at a deeper connection between them. That pivotal moment when Hirayama saw the bar owner hugging a stranger was a clear sign of things to come. Their conversation on the pier gives me hope for a romantic future for the main character.
And the final shot of the film—it's breathtaking. I'm applauding Koji Yakusho's performance!!! I've watched it multiple times, and the visual composition, the music, the lighting, and the actor's natural and dramatic expressions up close are all just perfect. It's the most beautiful ending I've ever seen in a film.
I've got to say, I was expecting a lot of people to interpret the final scene of the movie as Hirayama finally realizing he's miserable and alone, disillusioned and depressed. But that's not how I saw it at all. What struck me was the tears of joy and relief in Hirayama's eyes - his life, which had been so predictable, was finally getting back on track. The darkness wasn't winning out; his soul was shining through, and he'd found happiness in the moment. It's a shame that not everyone around him was as aware of this, and maybe they never would be. But for Hirayama, he was living in his own little world, and it wasn't intersecting with anyone else's. And yeah, I was smiling for almost the entire movie - I couldn't help it, and I didn't even notice it happening. That's how much I loved this film about a happy man.