(Photo Manipulation by Catherine Goodman)
Filing into the Tara Theater for “Perfect Days” (2023), I had no clue what to expect. The production company Neon put on the showing free of charge for Emory University students on Feb. 28, packing the theater as full as “Barbie” (2023) did earlier this year. From previews, I knew the film follows the subtle life of Hirayama (Koji Yakusho), who works as a janitor in Tokyo. That is simply the film, and for that reason it is perfect.
The film does not amaze. It surely does not excite. However, “Perfect Days” touches on the emotions of why we should feel grateful to be alive. Our main character does not even speak for the first 30 minutes of the film. Hirayama, who people around constantly overlook, refuses to be beaten down by his bad hand in the game of life and continues to engage in what brings him peace: snapping photos of nature and listening to classic American tunes, such as “House Of The Rising Sun” (1964) and “Brown Eyed Girl” (1967).
The film follows Hirayama’s day to day: waking up, watering his plants, cleaning toilets, going to the bathhouse, eating and repeating this routine. One day, the young and vibrant Aya (Aoi Yamada) breaks the monotony with a kiss on Hirayama’s cheek. She finds interest in the middle-aged man, his exotic music taste and solace in his simplicity and kindness.
The film’s cinematography constantly emphasizes beauty by spotlighting vibrant colors throughout the parks, subways, bars and restaurants of Tokyo. Despite Hirayama’s monotonous life, the color palette of “Perfect Days” is so extraordinary as to intentionally remind the viewer of the film’s central theme: the beauty of life in each passing moment.
In what seems to be the climax of the film, Hirayama’s niece Niko (Arisa Nakano) runs away from home to come live with him, but what seems like it would become the main focus of the film turns out to be nothing but a 20-minute detour. Hirayama shows Niko the importance of living in the moment, telling her that “now is now” and that “next time is next time,” lessons that lie at the beating heart of “Perfect Days.” Instead of focusing on the life he could have had, Hirayama says that sometimes people just live in different worlds. This is in reference to his sister, whose inability to live in the moment causes Niko to run away in the first place.
When his sister Keiko (Yumi Aso) returns to pick up Niko, Hirayama reminds his niece of their short adventure, spending a day together appreciating nature and, of course, cleaning toilets. He then lets Niko know that she can always stay with him. This is contrasted with Keiko picking up Niko in a fancy car with a driver but without something she can ever offer her daughter: love.
The film ends with Hirayama talking to a random man whose days are numbered after being diagnosed with cancer. Instead of remaining in sorrow, the two drink beer, smoke cigarettes and play tag while looking out at a beautiful river, talking about nothing important but displaying how Hirayama can see life for what is: a collection of important moments.
“Perfect Days” is not the greatest movie of all time, but for just over two hours, German director Wim Wenders invites the viewer into Tokyo to appreciate everything about this beautiful world we live in. Wenders is intentional in basing Yakusho’s character on a man whose daily life consists of minimalism in all its forms. Hirayama lives in a cramped apartment with nothing to look forward to every day besides cleaning toilets, yet by having him still find the beauty in life, Wenders asks us to take a look at ourselves. “Perfect Days” asks the viewer to take a moment, stare up at the sky and appreciate the amazing and weird lives we’ve been gifted. We must remember that “now is now,” and to live every second to the fullest.
Spencer Friedland (26C) is from Long Island, New York and is the Emory Wheel's Managing News Editor. He is a Philosophy, Politics and Law major and has a secondary major in Film. Spencer is also a part of the Franklin Fellows program at Emory.
