Wim Wenders’ tale of one man’s attainment of personal harmony is halfway between documentary and drama, with a strong dose of clear-headed philosophy. A focus on a Tokyo toilet attendant becomes a positive, life-affirming meditation on coping with the modern world’s false goals and confining ‘lifestyle demands.’ The star Kôji Yakusho won a Best Actor award at Cannes; the show received a warm theatrical welcome here in the States. Writer-director Wenders’ interview extra is a gem.

Perfect Days
4K Ultra HD + Blu-ray
The Criterion Collection 1226
2023 / Color / 1:33 flat AR / 124 min. / available through The Criterion Collection / Street Date July 16, 2024 / 49.95
Starring: Kôji Yakusho, Arisa Nakno, Long Mizuma, Min Tanaka, Yumi Asô, Aoi Yamada, Sayuri Ishikawa, Tomokazu Miura, Tokio Emoto.
Cinematography: Franz Lustig
Production Designer: Towako Kuwajima
Film Editor: Toni Froschhammer
Editor Dreams: Clémentine Decremps
Costume Design: Daisuke Iga
Original Music Supervisor: Milena Fessman
Dream Installations: Donata Wenders
Visual Effects Supervisor: Kalle Max Hofmann
Written by Takuma Takasaki, Wim Wenders 
Executive Producer Kôji Yashuko
Produced by Takuma Takasaki, Wim Wenders, Kôji Yanai
Directed by Wim Wenders

What makes Wim Wenders’  Perfect Days such an uplifting experience?  Audiences worldwide were touched by what would seem a most unlikely subject for a feature film — we simply share time with Hirayama, a fellow who services a group of public toilets in a prefecture of central Tokyo. Given no verbal explanations, we observe Hirayama’s daily routine, but also see how he manages a fulfilling life while doing what many would call a demeaning job. He performs his duties as if lives were depending on him. It’s more than just ‘a job done well’ — Hirayama’s lifestyle of service has a positive effect on his outlook.

The movie is something of a wonderment … half an hour in, after no melodramatic events or dramatic crises, we feel as if just a couple of minutes have elapsed. Hirayama has helped a little kid find his mother, observed a dignified homeless man and made contact with the few people he sees on a daily basis. He listens to his collection of 1980s cassette tapes and buys books from the dollar bin.

Observing Hirayama at work is not like the purposely monotonous ‘real time’ head-scratcher Jeanne Dielmann. Our cleaner is very much alive and alert. He steps out of his rooms with a little smile in the morning, buys his ‘Boss’ coffee drink from a vending machine and sets off in his little blue van. His clean ‘Tokyo Toilet’ boiler suit has a utility belt laden with extra tools he has chosen to improve his work. He’s fastidious in his movements as he makes the lavatories spotless. These modern facilities are nothing like what we have in the States. In my experience in California, most public rest stops are unmaintained and in horrendous condition.

Criterion’s extras explain that a grant for the 2020 Olympics commissioned 17 showcase public toilets for Shibuya prefecture, each designed by a different name architect. The COVID epidemic delayed the games by a year, and even then it was without the spectators meant to discover the futuristic public facilities. Instead, Wim Wenders says that the locals adopted the rest stops. The neighborhood homeless appreciated and took care of them. Many communal efforts are successful in Japan, and these ‘civil artworks’ didn’t fall prey to abuse or vandalism.

Wenders explains that his movie was inspired by the pandemic experience: we hoped that the crisis would bring communities together and make citizens feel more interdependent. Instead, the opposite happened — many places went into self-directed survival mode, becoming more selfish and less open to helping one another. Wenders was invited to tour the Tokyo Toilet project for a possible documentary, as was the international press. Remember the TV news features about public bathrooms made of transparent glass, that turned opaque-private at the flip of a switch?  What Wenders noted in Tokyo was a feeling of communal cooperation, something he says was lacking back home in Germany.

Wenders turned down the documentary idea and instead made this feature film, that would show the toilets in passing but attempt a different kind of fiction documentary, with a character written by himself and Takuma Takasaki. Stepping up to play Hirayama was Kôji Yakusho, one of Japan’s most respected actors. Western audiences remember him 30 years ago in Masayuki Suo’s romantic drama  Shall We Dance. Wenders’ cast employs some fresh faces (Aoi Yamada) and actors with years of experience (Tokio Emoto). A homeless man seen mostly in long shot, is played by a famous Japanese dancer, Min Tanaka.

Hirayama’s ‘observed days’ see him greeting each morning and paying full attention to everything he experiences. The direction stresses his simple wonderment at things like sunlight, trees, and anything natural. He cultivates little plants in his spare time. He’s thoughtful of others, just for the sake of being thoughful.

‘Busy’ seems to be Hirayama’s secret. He’s organized but not obsessed. He is a loner, and speaks very little, yet doesn’t avoid personal interaction. He communicates a lot with his smiling eyes. He is patient and tolerant of others. His flaky co-cleaner Takashi (Tokio Emoto) does the bare minimum of work, complains, and hits up Hirayama for loans. They meet Aya (Aoi Yamada), a young club girl. She takes petty advantage of the girl-struck Takashi but shows a bit of affection for the much older Hirayama.

Our hero also has a tiny bit of interaction with a girl he sees eating lunch in the park, and he likes to talk with a pleaant, chatty bar owner. She shepherds her regulars, the same way Hirayama’s favorite fast food cook makes sure that a (mentally challenged?) customer doesn’t cause trouble. How lonely is Hirayama?  Apparently not so much that he can’t cope.

Hirayama takes everyone at face value. Street people and the disabled use the fancy facilities — people that might have no place they can call their own. When he takes a small boy’s hand to lead him back to his mother, nobody’s worried that he will be confused with a predator.

A few complications set in when Hirayama takes in his niece for a few days, Niko (Arisa Nakano).  →  The particulars of this family business would be a spoiler, and the disturbance to Hirayama’s attitude-equilibrium is enough to bring him to tears. Yet his internal compass re-rights itself, leading to an ending we call the ‘Cabiria Effect.’ Explaining that is a bit of a spoiler so be wary.  ^*

The movie presents a glowing image of this part of Tokyo, a sparkling-clean prefecture threaded by intimidating multilevel freeways, yet where Hirayama can seemingly travel anywhere he wants in safe bike lanes. Nobody steals his bicycle when it is parked unlocked. The old Tokyo Tower (the one preferred by our favorite  chrysalides) is now hemmed in by skyscrapers, and a huge thing called the Tokyo Sky Tree is the new central landmark. Perfect Days is not a ‘ City Symphony‘ movie, but it has some of the same qualities. It ends up being more of a lifestyle meditation; we can tell that Hirayama has chosen his job on purpose, as a dropout from some other kind of work. He thrives on the freedom it gives him. He has his 40 year-old cassette tapes, his books, his trees and the sky, and his peace of mind.

Hirayama and Niko exchange a few thoughts on what’s important and what’s not, but no titles pop up telling us to ‘Stop and Smell the Roses.’  Wenders’ film is an inspirational item about an individual in a certain situation in a particular city; it doesn’t suggest we change our lifestyle, abandon our relatives or seek Nirvana through menial labor. Its only political message is that a city can be a non-hostile, cooperative place. If Perfect Days moves some audiences to tears, it’s likely because we live in upscale chaos, with social support infrastructures that don’t function as well as they should. In real terms, there must be a billion human beings deprived of even the chance of earning a living wage, of claiming a minimum of dignified control over their lives. That doesn’t diminish the film’s impact and worth. One guy in Tokyo seems to be getting along okay.

Certain aspects of the show come straight from Wim Wenders’ auteur preferences. Among the songs by The Animals, Nina Simone and Otis Redding, is Lou Reed with a title tune. When Hirayama interacts with strangers, he talks little but has all of his senses on Alert. His calm, soothing, and non-judgmental stance occasionally makes him resemble one of Wenders’ ‘Angels over Berlin’ from  Wings of Desire.

Then there are Hirayama’s expressive dreams, visions in a charcoal-y B&W that remind us of a Weimar-era expressionist film. Hirayama dreams of faces and textures and especially sunlight reflected from water or filtered through a canopy of tree leaves. The brief, silent dream visions remind us very much of the ‘memory visions’ from Wenders’  Until the End of the World.

I should think Perfect Days could shown in a prison auditorium, and the convicts would welcome its appeal to our better natures, to the notion of sanity and proportion returning to the chaos we know as daily reality. Wim Wenders said that the restrictions of the COVID year made him think of living more simply. His movie isn’t some Hallmark Card ditty with a bite-sized message; it simply encourages us to feel good about people.

The Criterion Collection’s 4K Ultra HD + Blu-ray of Perfect Days is noted as a 4K digital master approved by director Wim Wenders. The package contains one 4K UHD disc of the film and one Blu-ray with the film and special features.

The chosen format is a TV ratio, 1:33, which would look fine on theater screens that can play it properly; when well composed, older Academy format pictures could look both wide and tall. The only visual effects we notice are in the seven or eight dream interludes, brief little oases of silent reflection. They are credited (I think) to the director’s wife Donata Wenders, and are perfect little treguas away from the film’s main progression. We are happy to report that Hirayama’s sleep is not troubled by nightmares.

Wim Wenders gives a 25-minute talk about his motivation to make the movie and his emotional reaction to Tokyo and the COVID years. He communicates well his relationship with his cameraman, co-writer, producer and actors. Two additional interviews start with the producer, who is also the founder of the Tokyo Toilet project. His futuristic idea didn’t get the publicity boost of the Olympics, but Wenders’ movie may keep it alive much longer. However, you aren’t getting me into one of those glass outhouses, Pilgrim.

Actor Kôji Yakusho ingratiates himself with his interview, explaining up front that he’s not like the characters he has played. For Perfect Days he learned Hirayama’s job and simply ‘lived’ the part for the 16 days of filming. After a few takes Wim Wenders realized that Yashuko was directing himself automatically. Wenders stopped giving suggestions and just filmed scenes without rehearsal.

Wenders needed the famous dancer Min Tanaka for just a few isolated moments. Rather than waste an opportunity, they filmed an entire dance performance that became an eight minute short subject. It shares a visual appearance with some of Hirayama’s dream footage.

Reviewed by Glenn Erickson

Perfect Days
4K Ultra HD + Blu-ray rates:
Movie: Excellent
Video: Excellent
Sound: Excellent
Supplements:
New interview with Wim Wenders
Interview with actor Kôji Yakusho
Interview with producer Kôji Yanai
Wim Wenders short subject some body comes into the light (2023), introduced by Wenders
Trailer
Color insert foldout with an essay by Bilge Ebiri.
Deaf and Hearing-impaired Friendly? YES; Subtitles: English (feature only)
Packaging: One Blu-ray in Keep case
Reviewed: September 1, 2024
(7189days)

^*  We take note of a certain stratum of movies that end with a direct emotional connection, breaking the fourth wall for a character to directly address the audience. We call it The Cabiria Effect because Federico Fellini’s compassionate movie  Nights of Cabiria ends with a transcendant final shot, an extended close-up of Giulieta Masina emoting a transformation from anguish, to acceptance, and finally to contentment. It’s a near-mystical moment. Ms. Masina ends up smiling directly at the camera, to us … she’s been gone for decades, but she’s so alive.

In Perfect Days the shot in question is not the final shot, and Kôji Yakusho doesn’t really break the fourth wall … but the effect is much the same. Wenders’ stratagem works extremely well in a movie in which practically every effect is a new invention.

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