16.4.24
Like most of Wim Wenders’ work, Perfect Days is a slow, hazy, and reflective tale that meanders at its own pace. While I typically enjoy Wenders’ contemplative style and the film’s connection to 70s rock icons like Patti Smith and The Velvet Underground, Perfect Days left me feeling underwhelmed. Apart from piquing my curiosity about toilet architecture, it’s an outing that has failed to hit my wavelength.
Koji Yakusho’s performance as Hirayama is undoubtedly the film’s highlight. His muted yet powerful portrayal of a man resigned to his tedious daily routine is often sombre and occasionally compelling. Yakusho’s weathered face in the final moments is a masterclass in conveying the depths of human emotion without uttering a word. His character’s simple actions, though seemingly mundane, take on a poignant quality, inviting the viewer to find comfort in the ordinary rhythms of life, no matter how seemingly insignificant. The unique dream sequences are also impressive, although I feel like there are too many of them.
But the film’s lack of context and backstory regarding Hirayama and his relationships with his sister and wider family proves to be its greatest flaw. While the narrative’s nuanced circularity and gentle pulse are admirable, I couldn’t shake the sense of frustration at the missed opportunity to delve deeper into themes of loneliness, solitude, and Japan’s ageing population. The film’s ambiguity left me yearning for more substance and a greater emotional payoff. Despite being impressed with the final moments, it’s a shame it didn’t register with me where it has for so many other lucky viewers.