Perfect Days
Wim Wenders serves a bittersweet slice-of-life with a commanding central performance from Kōji Yakusho as a hard-working Tokyo toilet cleaner
"Next time is next time. Now is now." This is the solemn motto of hard-working Tokyo toilet cleaner Hirayama (Koji Yakusho), a quiet man who revels in the simplicity of his organised solitude, and leads an existence punctuated by sacred rituals and profound gratefulness. In between taking pictures of trees with his analogue camera and visiting the local bookstore, Hirayama briefly welcomes others into his secretive world, but his cycle of contented loneliness ultimately offers little space for lasting connections.
Co-written with Takuma Takasaki, Wim Wenders' latest thrives in the contrast between Hirayama's cherished aloneness and his silent longing for empathy and community in our capitalist society, amplified by a nostalgia that's evident in his love of physical media. His optimism and communion with nature are infectious but, when a series of encounters threaten to chip at his seemingly impenetrable veneer, his philosophy of living in the moment begins to unravel.
Wenders trusts his film's audience to be patient, to exercise the same virtue with which Hirayama approaches each day to discover more of the past he's left behind. The film can feel elusive at times, though, with the script never fully answering its most pressing questions. Wenders also dabbles in cutesiness in Perfect Days, which feels occasionally grating.
But throughout you can't take your eyes off Hirayama; Yakusho commands the screen. As Hirayama realises the contradictions in his self-imposed isolation, his face beautifully reveals itself as a heavy mask that doesn't fit properly, conveying the struggle to adjust to the chaos of life.
Released 23 Feb by MUBI; certificate PG
Perfect Days screens at The Cineskinny Film Club; Summerhall, Edinburgh, 23 Feb, 7pm and CCA, Glasgow, 28 Feb, 7pm – free tickets here