Perfect Days-Wim Wenders

Unknowingly, Perfect Days was my second foray into the world of Wim Wender. Where the mundane and unspectacular everyday obscurities are somehow polished under a fine veneer microscope to create a magical serenity.

The first film I had seen of Wim's was Paris, Texas.

Much like Perfect Days, I was caught a little off-guard at the lack of a TNT-packing climax. Unless you consider the double-sided mirror confessional/soliloquy to suffice as one, there was never that moment where everything tipped over the edge. Just a thorough examination of a somewhat complex story where life—much as it always seems to—unfolds not in the arrangement we had planned.

There are no major confrontations. No real fighting or stunning revelations. Just pure human emotion, largely subdued, and forever arrested in a melancholy existence of left-over shreds from what was a disappointing and difficult ordeal that ordinary people are forced to endure.

Alive, but barely aware of this fact.

Perfect Days was vastly different from Paris, Texas, but once I began to read the imdb reviews on the bus ride home, it only came as a momentary surprise to me that Wim Wenders authored this movie.

Koji Yakusho's main character, Hiriyama, plucked a rather personal harpsichord string within me as I feel, at this current station of my life, that I could relate so much to the main character.

Very little is offered in the dialectic realm from Hiriyama in regards to his personal life, and it isn't but a quarter of the way through the film that I came to realize that he is not a mute. It is through the method of routine day to day activities and subtle emotions—most of which, exist on a plateau—that Hiriyama's inner character is revealed.

Everyday he gets up around the same time as the sun, performs ritualistic hygiene upkeep, waters his plants, puts on his uniform, grabs a coffee from the vending machine and heads off to work. Wim does not ask for any sympathy from the audience for Hiriyama's situation in life as a 50+ year old bathroom attendant living in a studio apartment as he seems largely content to arrive at where he is. The deviations between Monday through Friday are very few and the demands are even fewer. Leisure time is alternated between a decent meal at his favorite train station dive bar, a relaxing schvitz at a bathhouse, and his two favorite hobbies are photography and horticulture. In the evening he winds down while reading a book, and his interactions throughout the week are very few, but when they are speckled into the film they are largely pleasant.

There is no bitterness of fate dealing Hiriyama a bad hand, nor torpor or regret of unfulfilled dreams as the audience might expect to see. Only a man wanting for nothing more other than what he has right in front of him.

He is alone, but not lonely. Happy, but not without everyday frustrations and trials like everyone else. People let him down at certain points, but it doesn't weigh on Hiriyama too heavily because his relationship with karma runs on a two-way street of gratitude and acceptance and he knows that things will level out, and they do. There are no skeletons in the closet that keep Hiriyama awake in the evenings, nor any perverted or self-harmful vices that Hiriyama indulges in that we wait to burst from the seams at any given moment.

All of the interchangeable elements that build towards a climax are absent in Perfect Days, which may lead one to deduce this film as nothing more than an aimless docu-movie where there is nothing the main character hopes to achieve—no goal—nor anything of consequence worth sticking around to hope for.

But, sometimes, it is the language by which we do not speak, which really tells the story.

And in Perfect Days, it is a beautiful one.

The small, seemingly insignificant moments in Perfect Days were the parts that I loved the most and which I feel hit the bullseye that Wim Wenders was aiming for. Like when Hiriyama is taking a lunch break and smiling at strangers who are plagued with life's pressures, who offer no response in return (or barely any semblance of a nod) and return to the sanctity of their iphone, or simply look away. Rather than let this lack of cordiality ruin his day, Hiriyama simply arches his neck back and basks with a smile on his face as the sun returns its own love back to him through the filter of botany.

Complete contentment with life and its simple pleasures.

I found Hiriyama and his lack of peaks and valleys through day to day living very relatable, especially after having adopted some form of this exact same lifestyle for going on four years now.

In 2020, when I decided on a career change to become a writer, this came on the coattails of an even bigger decision to hand over my life and its direction to the hands of God. As a result of this, a drastic upheaval (for the betterment) has occurred in my life, one of which I am absolutely grateful for everyday since.

Much like Hiriyama, I work alone. I sleep alone at night and read every single day. Majority of my time is spent in solitude and most all of the vices that held me captive during my years as an employee in the casino industry have been reduced to such insignificance that I don't worry about any of them in the slightest as they either no longer exist or are completely under control. Any extravagant forms of entertainment anymore travel through the channels of carry out pizza, PBA bowling contests, wrestling PPV's, and maybe a get together with friends for Browns games. I don't linger on social media involving myself in dramatics or business that isn't mine nor do I have accounts on Tinder, Bumble, Grinder or waste time on any other dating app searching for inorganic connections with strangers to fill an inner void that is now full. Day to day I have no boss aside from myself and (extreme circumstances excluded) I cannot recall the last time I woke up dreading what the next 24 hours held in store for me. Sins of the past I believe wholly to be forgiven and I trust in my own self-efficacy and investment in my faith through Jesus Christ enough to believe that sins of the future will be within my scope of management. I no longer own a car and Mondays, Wednesdays, and Friday's I walk down the street to the library to buy books at a discount to sell for profit online. I am happy in these small weekly travels as I anticipate the paper treasures that await me. I smile at some people that pass by and sometimes I get a smile back, other times not. Either way it doesn't bother me. I'm 39, have no debt, am ahead of my bills, have my health, and a nice home that keeps me warm with a full refrigerator. There have been tremendous trials in the past, but I persevered, overcame, and emerged with a higher sense of resilience and a greater appreciation of my blessings as a result. I read books, watch movies, and write all day and accept the twists and turns of which are beyond my control without much struggle.

Having said all of these things, I must echo Hiriyama's sentiment.

Really, how bad is life?

Stars: *****

Verdict: Watch

Cousins: Sideways, Paris, Texas, Amelie, Empire of Light, Living, Lost in Translation