“Perfect Days”: A Quiet Revolution in the Pursuit of Happiness
Wim Wenders’ 2023 film, Perfect Days, has captivated audiences and critics alike with its serene, meditative portrayal of a Tokyo public toilet cleaner named Hirayama, played with masterful subtlety by Koji Yakusho (who rightly won Best Actor at Cannes for the role). The film, nominated for an Oscar for Best International Feature, is a gentle yet profound cinematic experience, inviting viewers to slow down and find beauty in the seemingly mundane. Beyond its elegant aesthetics and soothing rhythm, Perfect Days offers a compelling challenge to prevalent social expectations, asserting that true happiness isn’t found in material wealth or societal status, but in the profound satisfaction of a simple, intentional life.
Reviewers universally laud the film’s almost hypnotic quality. We follow Hirayama through his meticulously ordered daily routine: waking to the sound of a distant broom, watering his collection of small plants, selecting a cassette tape for his morning drive (classic rock and folk, from Lou Reed to Nina Simone, form a beautiful soundtrack), diligently cleaning Tokyo’s strikingly architectural public restrooms, taking photos of komorebi (the sunlight filtering through leaves) during his lunch break, and unwinding with a book. This repetitive structure, rather than feeling tiresome, becomes a comforting ritual, a testament to the beauty that can be found in consistency and dedication.
My take on Perfect Days is that it powerfully challenges the norms of social expectations. In a world that often equates success with career advancement, high income, and accumulating possessions, Hirayama’s life is a radical counter-narrative. He finds immense satisfaction and dignity in a blue-collar job that many might deem undesirable or lowly. The film doesn’t romanticize poverty or preach asceticism; instead, it showcases a deliberate choice to derive meaning from the task at hand, from contributing to the cleanliness and order of his city, and from the small, overlooked details of his existence. He is not driven by external validation or the need to impress; his contentment is internal and self-sustaining. This is a significant message in societies often caught in a relentless pursuit of “more.”
The film meticulously demonstrates how the main character finds happiness and satisfaction in life doing blue-collar work. Hirayama approaches his job with a Zen-like focus, transforming the act of cleaning into a form of meditation. He is present in every moment, whether he’s scrubbing a toilet, carefully arranging his tools, or simply observing the world around him. This dedication elevates his work from a mere chore to a meaningful contribution. He takes pride in his labor, and that pride is a profound source of his happiness. This portrayal is a quiet but firm rebuttal to the idea that fulfillment is exclusive to white-collar professions or high-status endeavors.
Furthermore, Perfect Days profoundly illustrates that happiness is not found in the material but in living simply. Hirayama’s apartment is modest, his possessions few but cherished (his cassette player, his books, his camera). He doesn’t chase fleeting trends or external validation. Instead, his joy stems from the tangible: the warmth of a bath, the taste of a simple meal, the beauty of natural light, the pages of a well-loved book, and the melodies of his favorite songs. The film subtly critiques consumerism by showing how a life unburdened by excessive material desires can lead to a deeper appreciation for the simple, often free, pleasures of existence.
While some might interpret Hirayama’s solitary life as lonely, as some reviewers have noted, the film subtly suggests a chosen solitude—a space where he cultivates inner peace. Brief, poignant interactions with others, like his young, more boisterous colleague, his estranged sister, or even strangers he encounters, hint at a past and a rich inner life that the film doesn’t fully reveal, leaving much for the audience to contemplate. This ambiguity only deepens the film’s power, allowing viewers to project their own understanding onto Hirayama’s serene, yet sometimes melancholic, expressions.
In essence, Perfect Days is a cinematic balm for the modern soul. It’s an invitation to pause, observe, and reconsider what truly constitutes a “perfect day.” Through Hirayama’s quiet dedication and profound appreciation for the unassuming, Wim Wenders delivers a timeless message: that the richest life may well be the one lived most simply, mindfully, and with dignity in every moment, no matter how ordinary it may seem.
