‘Perfect Days’ is a gentle reminder of ‘now being now’

The film gets going with Hirayama (played by Koji Yakusho) awakening in the still-numbing, navy-bluish time of the morning — ahead of the break of dawn, to initially infuse a sense of hurried alarm. However, the picture becomes clearer when he gears himself in his 'The Tokyo Toilet' overall uniform to head out during the still-dulling hours of the day. The janitor doesn't forget to pay attention to his plants prior to leaving home, gently smiling up at the sky whilst admiring it for a few good seconds, then moving to pick out a ready-made coffee can from a vending machine near his outwardly dilapidated home. He eventually gets in his car, picks out a cassette tape, and drives to work. 

Hirayama finally inserts the tape in the cassette player, once he pulls up to the main road on his way to the first area of public lavatories and plays the song "House Of The Rising Sun" by The Animals. At this point, the Tokyo skies overhead seem to clear alongside the daybreak as they carve out a way for him to drive towards. Once in his work environment, the character, likely in his 60s, becomes relentless. He barely speaks (In fact, throughout the entire film, Hirayama only speaks when he absolutely needs to) as he completes all the cleaning diligently — so much so that even his colleague Takashi (played by Tokio Emoto), who is in his early twenties, remarks, "Take it easy. It's getting dirty again anyway." 

During his lunch break, he takes a spot on a park bench and munches on his sandwich all the while carefreely observing the dance between the shadows of tree leaves and sun rays that poke their way through the dots and crevices of the leaves. He brings out his film camera during his lunch hours to try and capture the shadow sequences he can seize. He collects the pictures he approves of inside a box at his place. He then spends the remainder of the day bathing in a bathhouse, and having dinner at a local food place located in a discreet underground locale, until he finally returns home to read a few pages before dozing off for work for the next day. Occasionally the protagonist will also cycle to his go-to understated bar, pre-loved book store, and audiocassette shop — depending on his mood and requirements. 

These activities so far make up the inceptive 20 percent of the film "Perfect Days", directed by German filmmaker Wim Wenders, which in retrospect characterises Hirayama's regular disciplined routine. The slice-of-life production then repeatedly unfurls most of his every day to flesh out his character further — particularly when the earnest, reticent, and self-sufficient man is met with unprecedented derailments, such as; Takashi begging Hirayama to drop himself and his girlfriend at their date spot after work or Takashi quitting work without prior notice or even Hirayama's niece Niko (played by Arisa Nakano) showing up unannounced to live with him for a couple of days. 

However, the fascinating hint of Hirayama having belonged to a privileged past drops when his sister shows up to pick up Niko in a luxurious black car. She also urges him to check up on their father, who presumably has dementia, while mentioning that the father will not behave like he used to. Hirayama's sister's uncalled-for intervention breaks him and he weeps helplessly as soon as she drives away.

By the end of the movie, Hirayama begins yet another day of his as he drives to work to the song "Feeling Good" by Leslie Bricusse and Anthony Newley. However, this time around, he seems to be carrying an emotional burden, considering he cries while trying to make himself smile at the all-too-powerful and renowned lyrics. Instead of eagerly observing the skies and the people passing him by, like he usually does, he seems shriveled in his car. Even within the two hours of watching and trying to decipher Hirayama, this last scene comes as a parting shock. 

True to the embodiment of the slice-of-life genre, the plot of "Perfect Days" does not do much to ignite drama or any hook. It merely presents the life of a modest man who lives a supremely analogue life, deeply admiring his hobbies alongside working. His hobbies including listening to the '60s and '70s English rock songs and taking pictures of 'komorebi' (the Japanese word for visible sunlight rays filtering through the leaves of the trees) are also persistently underscored throughout the film as actions he pays attention to religiously for himself. Hirayama flawlessly executes turning his hobbies into habits that too without harbouring any ulterior capitalistic agenda. He lives through them to live for them. 

His detachment from the digital world is so thorough and seamless that the film's timeline can potentially make one think Hirayama exists in the pre-digital revolution era, that is until Takashi shows up with his trendy modern-day gadgets. The gist of the film can thus be said to have the ability to live a fulfilling life despite co-existing with technological advancements. The dialogue he preaches to his niece, "Next time is next time. Now is now," is again a gentle reminder to live in and for the present. 

Having said that, his stance can discreetly come off as stand-offish in a self-absorbent way. Hirayama is so far detached from his family that he does not even immediately recognise Niko when she appears in front of him. He may have lived through problematic relationships involving a rift with his father, for instance. However he seems to have completely ridden himself of unnecessary burdens that could potentially alter the course of the very fabric or bubble of his perfect days.

Shot across locale zones in Tokyo, this film boasts magnificent cinematography that blurs the line between state-of-the-art filming techniques and those of the '90s — thereby giving it a lived-in touch. The film's soundtrack list is loaded with classics that speak more for Hirayama than the plot. This immaculately directed film coupled with its flawless pacing drives home its nuanced storytelling. In drawing things to a close, actor Koji Yakusho and all the other cast members do their most to deliver refined performances that become the beating heart of "Perfect Days".

Read more

Humanising chaos: The unconventional beauty of Greek Weird Wave cinema