‘Perfect Days’ Review: Wim Wenders’ Latest Finds the Beauty in the Mundane | Toronto

Films like Perfect Days are rare to come by. Rather than opting for a clear-cut narrative with dramatic twists and turns, this is a quiet, reserved and contemplative work that invites audiences to observe, reflect and embark on a poignant journey following an elderly man whose days, while seemingly being mundane and ordinary, hold so much beauty and speak to the power of human resilience and yearning for life. 

Following what may seem at first glance like a repetitive structure, to a point which may alienate mainstream audiences who may be slightly turned off by a narrative too minimalistic to score their enthusiasm, we follow the protagonist’s day from the moment he wakes up, waters his plants, gets ready for work, drinks his favorite canned coffee and hits the road. Working as a cleaner as part of the brilliant Tokyo Toilet Project (a series of stunningly designed public toilets, dispersed across the city in populated residential areas as well as public parks), Hirayama (a magnificent Kôji Yakusho, a well deserved Best Actor winner at Cannes) never looks down on his job. Rather unexpectedly, he is able to find the passion to get out of bed every morning and look forward to it. 

While that may sound bizarre at first – after all what’s there to be excited about when you have to clean messy toilets every day – the film gradually reveals what makes Hirayama the unique personality he is. Carrying a wonderful passion for life, a strange appetite to keep on living and relishing every moment, he is able to see the beauty in the most mundane. And what may sound like a day full of the most repulsive elements possible, cleaning after people and having to pick up the trash from every public toilet, there are hidden moments of grace that only someone like Hirayama can notice. 

In a way, and as the film progresses, it is clear that cleaning toilets is Hirayama’s way to help others and feel useful – but also his bridge to the world. As limited as his interactions with the toilet clients are, his mere existence as a cleaner is his way to feel included, integrated and vital. The connection Hirayama seeks and cherishes is not just a human one – his work breaks have him taking snapshots with his black-and-white traditional camera, capturing the elegance of nature around him. 

In one of the film’s most affecting moments, Hirayama is cleaning one of the public toilets when a lady enters so he quickly exits. Waiting for the bathroom to be vacated, Hirayama silences all sounds around him and looks up at the sky. The soft wind has been moving the beautiful trees hanging above, and despite sounds of children playing in the playground, the sounds of water dripping and toilet flushing, Hirayama is able to only listen to the wind and see the trees, isolating any and all distractions to fully live the moment at its fullest. It is a striking scene that Wenders repeats throughout the film, emphasizing the character’s fascination with going beyond the obvious, as though he happily lives in a parallel universe. 

While steering away from over-the-top, unnecessary dramatic moments that this kind of film does not require, Wenders introduces some external forces that collide with Hirayama’s way of doing things. His daily routine, which also includes dining in the same restaurants, visiting the same bookshop and reading just before bed, is disrupted by the entrance of a few old and new acquaintances, ones who are forced to or choose to accompany Hirayama as he carries out his daily chores. His co-worker, a much younger cleaner who lacks any passion for the job, and his young niece who has fled home due to family pressure, as well as a stranger he encounters at his favorite local restaurant, all force Hirayama to question his impact on others and whether his comfort zone has been the product of convenience, fear or mere conviction. 

It is an interesting proposition, one that the film does not fully answer, but draws us in to make our own observations. As each of these characters directly question Hirayama’s fascination with his job and daily routine, the character never answers nor justifies his actions. It is up to us, in this fascinating character study of a film, to draw our own conclusions. And as we decide to judge or merely appreciate this unique character, Hirayama still goes on: enjoying his perfect days – listening to old cassette tapes in his van, greeting people on the street, fulfilling his purpose and living a life of his choice. 

Grade: B

This review is from the 2023 Toronto International Film Festival. NEON will release Perfect Days in the U.S.