The day I saw “Perfect Days” was also the day my Nantucket landlady jetted off to Japan for three weeks. I don’t know if the moon is jealous of the stars, as country singer Gary Allan suggests. I just know how I felt when Mel shared these travel plans with me a couple weeks ago.
I saw “Perfect Days” on Sunday. Like a page ripped out of Ross Gay’s “The Book of Delights” and now “The Book of (More) Delights,” this movie embraces the dignity of work and the joy of nature. It also exudes an ineffable quality that evokes monastic life.
Obviously, I am not here to explain all the intricacies of eligibility criteria for each and every Academy Award category. But you should know “Perfect Days” is Japan’s entry for Best International Feature Film. With German director Wim Wenders behind the camera, “Perfect Days” was produced in Japan and uses English subtitles.
At its core, “Perfect Days” is a contemplative and quiet movie that centers around the quotidian events of a public toilet cleaner in Tokyo. Marie Kondo this is not. Nor is there anything scatalogical to fear here; “Perfect Days” is more philosophical than you might expect. One measure is how long everyone stuck around to hear the full soundtrack and see all the final credits.
Hirayama (Koji Yakusho in a perfect performance) lives alone and, for the most part, works alone too. He reads William Faulkner at night. He eats a sandwich for lunch everyday.
Most notably, Hirayama’s “Zen and the art of bathroom cleaning” approach to work lends itself to appreciation for the simple things in life. At the same time, his overall contentment doing his repetitive best and finding joy in “komorebi,” or “sunlight leaking through trees,” seems sincere.
Hirayama’s life is so routinized that he wakes up everyday as soon as he hears the human street sweeper in his neighborhood. After neatly folding up his bedding, he brushes his teeth, spritzes his plants, and dons his indigo jumpsuit emblazoned with “The Tokyo Toilet” on the back. He then gets a vending machine juice before checking his cleaning supplies in the back of his truck.
He also greets the morning sunrise by gazing skyward, then driving straight toward the light while listening to cassette tapes. When his workday begins, he takes all of his cleaning supplies from his truck and carries them to the public toilets. He goes about his work with diligence and detail audiences will find reassuring.
In many ways, “Perfect Days” reminded me of that great documentary a decade ago, “Jiro Dreams of Sushi.” I am confident that if you liked how dedicated Jiro was to his small sushi restaurant in the Tokyo subway, you will enjoy “Perfect Days” too.
For extra credit, try to count how many songs in the soundtrack contain the word “sun.” This movie, which opens at the Triplex on Friday, will light up your life — an excellent way to welcome back the start of Daylight Saving Time.
