A banal daily routine reveals hidden depths in the Tokyo-set gem “Perfect Days,” by one of cinema's great poets of patience and connection, Wim Wenders. A beautifully observed paean to care, both physical and philosophical, the film is directed, with sublime joy, by the great Japanese actor Koji Yakusho (“Shall We Dance?”), whose character, Hirayama, is a lonely man who finds himself in a rare peace with his chosen existence. In the pantheon of movies about people and their jobs, “Perfect Days” suggests a version of the iconic “Superman” catchphrase: You'll think a man could enjoy cleaning public toilets.
The facilities in question are, to be fair, eye-catching, the result of a real-life hospitality initiative called Tokyo Toilet, which enlisted Japan's leading architects to design diverse and aesthetically appealing bathrooms that now dot parks, streets and corners of the modern Shibuya district. One bathroom looks like a group of mushrooms, another a wooded enclave. (“Barbie” is not the only Oscar nominee this year to find artistic support in a case of brand management).
But if anyone had to find that sweet spot between selling a product and conveying a feeling, it would be Wenders. The German auteur, with the mentality of Ozu (the Japanese master is one of his cinematic idols), brings into play his considerable skill with visual simplicity and the strange allure of isolation, crafting a look at two weeks in which a modest life achieves immeasurable grace.
We're with Hirayama as he wakes up to the sounds of street sweeping. He brushes his teeth, sprays the plants, puts on his overalls, and plays classic rock cassettes in his van on the way to work. We see him scrubbing, cleaning and mopping. He also helps a lost child, endures the chatter of a young co-worker (Tokio Emoto), and takes photographs of treetops during his lunch break. We also see Hirayama after his shift: riding a bike at sunset, washing in a bathhouse, having dinner at his favorite place, and then reading before bed.
When there are variations in his ritual, he adapts and in those turns we learn a little more. However, not much more. Only when his teenage niece, Niko (Arisa Nakano), visits us unexpectedly for a few days, do we realize that this wiry, gray-haired gentleman has voluntarily left behind an entire life. We don't know any details, because Wenders prefers that we deal with the life Hirayama has found now. Of course, what that is is not explained much either.
But the exquisite pleasure of Yakosha's almost silent performance, honored at Cannes, is that we always feel as if she were communicating it to us anyway, through the beating heart of a satisfied soul and a smile in her eyes brought on by what we feel. that only he can do. see. (If you beat the credits, though, you'll learn a Japanese word to describe that fleeting feeling.)
I don't think I'm spoiling or belittling the beauty of “Perfect Days” when I say it's very much the work of an older director. Not in terms of energy (of which there is a lot), but rather experienced attitude. Where Wenders' unforgettable road movies of yesteryear (“Kings of the Road,” “Paris, Texas”) memorably wandered as they contemplated our place in the world, this film shines and vibrates within its closed loop with the wisdom of earned acceptance. with so much effort. And it does so without ceasing to amaze us with what can never be understood, only appreciated and, if we are lucky, enjoyed.
That perspective is also brilliantly summarized at the end. It's a gloriously prolonged moment, Franz Lustig's camera staring at our protagonist behind the wheel, his face illuminated by the dawn, movingly stirred by emotion. Nina Simone's deeply lived-in voice sings about the new day coming and feeling good.
'Perfect days'
In Japanese with English subtitles.
Classification: PG, for some language, partial nudity and smoking.
Execution time: 2 hours, 3 minutes
Playing: Now in limited version
