As a test of the site’s bloging function I decided to post the most recent thing I’ve written: a movie review of a 2 year old movie. I’m not just a math guy
I confess that I was apprehensive about starting Wim Wenders’ “Perfect Days”. As a stereotypical resident of The Big Apple (I’m not allowed to call myself a New Yorker yet) who has perhaps an unhealthy relationship with ambition, money and mindfulness, I was concerned that this would trigger a familiar existential angst. On the contrary, Wenders has accomplished something profound that all filmmakers set out to do but few achieve: transporting us not just into his characters’ world but their state of mind.
It would be an understatement to call “Perfect Days” an experiment in Minimalism. The first hour of the movie contains virtually no dialogue; scenes flow into one another easily as we follow Hirayama through his daily routine, cleaning some remarkably beautiful public toilets, listening to some classic- because-it’s-good Dad rock on cassette, and simply enjoying trees. In our current attention-driven economy, this may seem like a lot to ask of an audience. Certainly, I often have trouble finishing a movie without looking at my phone. But you find yourself quietly drawn into this meditative, almost hypnotic state of mind.
In the second half of the movie, I thought Wenders was trying to introduce some tension or perhaps a counterpoint. Hirayama is reintroduced to his runaway niece, and a dark family history is hinted at off-screen. A potential love interest is introduced, and we see some workplace stress for the first time. I remember wondering a lot about what happens after the credits roll. Does Hirayama end up with the beautiful restaurateur? Does he reconcile with his sister? Will his niece visit? But upon further reflection, you start to realize that this is just the stuff of life; Hirayama’s life isn’t perfect, and it’s not supposed to be how we necessarily live our lives.
Hirayama’s love of nature and arboreal photography isn’t a cure-all. Hirayama isn’t listening to Lou Reed in the same way Kevin Spacey is listening to The Guess Who in American Beauty. Rather than trying to reclaim some lost youth, Hirayama is living his life. At the risk of veering into cliché, it often seems like we are playing a role, living our life ironically like actors in a movie. I confess I’m often counting the days as they go by, waiting for the next stage of life ( “I justneed to do this job × more years and then I will have y”). I suspect Hirayama does not have this issue.
The movie’s beautiful cinematography captures some of this. We are shown the beauty of the Shibuya district in a public way. The bathrooms that Hirayama dedicates his life to are clean and beautiful additions to the city. Contrasting this with the camera’s gaze on the Skytree and the urban landscape, one is tempted to think a broader point is being made about our role in relation to one another. Maybe cleaning toilets and taking photos of trees isn’t your Perfect Day. Maybe you work another kind of job and paint. Or perhaps you do math and write movie reviews. In any case, don’t let yourself be blind to what’s in front of you. Now is now, next time is next time