It has been quite some time since Wim Wenders made a narrative feature film that lives up to the masterpieces he made earlier in his career. Before becoming more interested in non-fiction filmmaking, Wenders was one of the most prominent names in a new wave of German cinema that saw many creative individuals weaving together intimate, complex stories about the human condition, with his films, in particular, striking a chord. It seemed like he had moved on since every fiction film he has made for over a decade has either been underwhelming or a far cry from the work he did at his peak. Yet, he proved that he is far from a relic of the past with the arrival of Perfect Days (Japanese: ), his best film in several years, and a return to form the likes of which we rarely glimpse, but which we also never doubted was possible coming from an old master such as him. A beautiful and poetic film, it tells the story of Hirayama, a mild-mannered man who seemingly gave up a life of affluence and wealth to lead a more simple existence, spending his days travelling around Tokyo, cleaning public toilets  – it may not be glamorous work, but it leaves our protagonist content, something that becomes even more clear the further we can peer behind the curtain and catch glimpses of his past, which are filled with ambiguities that help us understand why he chose to pursue a very different kind of life. A simple film with an enormous heart, we carefully follow the protagonist as he goes about his daily routine, which is used as a means for the director to develop several concepts that fascinate and compel him as an artist and observer of society and its various elements. A profoundly moving film that carries itself with such grace and genuine empathy, Perfect Days is the kind of work that seems simple on the outside, but as it opens itself up to the viewer, we witness incredible details that make it such a rich, varied portrait of everyday life, leading to extraordinary insights into humanity and how our lives are often interlinked into something much more complex than we sometimes may expect.

Perfect Days is not anything we haven’t seen from Wenders in the past, at least in terms of the specific subjects it is exploring. He has previously made a small-scale documentary set in Japan, but this is his first fully realised narrative film set in the country, and he uses the location as a way of revisiting some themes that have been evergreen presences in his films. The idea of exploring the life of someone who is not only deeply ordinary but almost invisible is a subject that appeals to the director, who has often been drawn to stories of people who are not particularly notable on the surface but have an abundance of depth that only manifests when their stories are intentionally captured, since there would not be any other way for us to know about who these people are, as society tends to overlook them. It’s a deeply human story that uses social realism to explore the daily routine of a man who is often seen as being a non-existent entity, a welcome presence when it is required, and someone who performs a vital task, but is very rarely even noticed outside of the rare occasion when someone can look beyond the status that has been placed on him solely because of his job, seeing the person behind the overalls as more than just a worker tasked with one of the least glamorous jobs in the community. The tone of the film is extraordinary – it is a gentle story that never aims for moments of intense emotion but rather allows the story to develop organically, piecing together fragments of this character’s life as he goes about his routine, which very rarely changes, and when it does, he finds everything gradually starting to shift and become more challenging. Never one to aim for the hysterics, and always focused on capturing the smallest and most intimate moments, Wenders traverses many different ideas throughout this astonishing film but never elevates the tone to be anything more than a simple, quiet examination of this man’s life, showing how he lives and quietly revealing the past that he has elected to keep hidden behind the quiet, stoic persona he has adopted.

Beyond the specific story itself, Perfect Days is a film that is notable for its structure. Much like the narrative, the film is a very simple work that doesn’t intend to draw too much attention to its brilliance, and instead redirects it to be more focused on the smaller details that exist in between the larger moments. Wenders employs a stream-of-consciousness approach to the narrative, something that has been common in many of his films, with the idea of showing the daily life of a man who adheres strictly to a routine being something that could seem dull in theory, but in reality, carries a lot of meaning. There is artistic value in repetition, and while it does take quite a director who has the perfect combination of experience and ambition, it can result in a beautiful and poetic examination of humanity, considering he has mostly spent his career telling stories that both interest and move him as an artist, we knew that we were in good hands with Wenders, who is an extraordinary director who is audacious enough to take such a straightforward premise and developing it into a moving exploration of the human condition through focusing on the smaller moments in this character’s life, and how various interactions with a range of other people gradually shifts his daily routine off its axis, until he is confronted with the past in a way that may be uncomfortable but is certainly entirely essential for his growth. Utilizing a structure that emphasizes (but never vilifies) his humdrum existence, Perfect Days develops quite a vibrant portrait of this man, revealing small fragments of his past in between the repetition of his routine, which proves to be quite an interesting approach that leads to this film becoming a nuanced and layered portrayal of some very common concepts, rendered with exceptional complexity and deep humanity by a director who is devoted to exploring the various facets of this character’s life, and the broader implications that come about as a result of these insightful and challenging conversations. It’s not filmmaking that is particularly obvious, but it’s certainly enough to keep us thoroughly invested and engaged in this poetic story of everyday life.

As a quiet, intimate character study, Perfect Days is a film that almost entirely depends on the central performance, and we can imagine that this role would be highly coveted amongst quite a diverse group of actors. However, Wenders expressly mentioned that he and co-writer Takuma Takasaki intended to craft the character specifically for Koji Yakusho, an industry veteran who has done a lot of strong work over the years, and who has become one of the most cherished actors in contemporary Japanese cinema. Considering his rich career in which he’s demonstrated his immense versatility, it would be difficult to proclaim any performance as his very best – but there is certainly a case to be made for Perfect Days, which is such an intricately woven, complex character study that demands so much from its lead, but gives him even more in return. The role called for someone who could play into the character’s stoicism without making him aloof – just because Hirayama doesn’t speak much doesn’t mean that he is entirely distant, and we often find that this performance says the most when the actor is entirely silent, depending solely on his movements and expressions, and how Wenders frames his performance to be much deeper. It is wonderful work, and Yakusho may have delivered the best male performance of the year, which is an indication that there is something much deeper beneath the surface of the film since its wholehearted, fully-formed understanding of the human condition is frequently shown throughout the story, and Yakusho in particular works closely with the director to create this fascinating character, someone whose wisdom is drawn from a long life, filled with challenges and unforeseen circumstances that have led him to this particular point in his life. Daring in a way that we don’t often see from actors in contemporary cinema, this performance is honest, raw and deeply moving, and helps define the film, elevating it to being one of the most profoundly fascinating depictions of humanity we have seen in quite a while, and one that dares to challenge the conventions in ways that may be quite subtle and undeniably very surprising.

Simple and evocative, and driven by nothing more than a profound curiosity for the human condition, Perfect Days proves to be quite an impactful piece of cinema, hand-woven by a director whose fascination with the smallest details and their influence on the larger aspects of life manifest in this wonderfully endearing and deeply moving film that challenges our understanding of some of life’s most trivial details, the parts of everyday routine that we view as being rote and uninteresting, but are extremely fascinating when shown through Wenders’ keen, undeniably poignant perspective. It’s a wonderfully sweet film, with moments of gentle humour interweaving with heartfelt drama to create a multilayered, earnest portrait of the human condition in its most honest, unique form. It may not signal a return to this kind of filmmaking from Wenders – if anything, it seems like a case of him being drawn to the concept more than an active effort to start making narrative films more regularly again, especially since he has been more focused on choosing films more selectively, toggling between documentary and fiction and following the subjects that he finds most intriguing. However, it remains one of his best films to date, a simple and effective exercise in low-fi storytelling, formed around a stream-of-consciousness depiction of the everyday life of a man who is trying to simply exist in peace, but who finds that even his routine is disrupted by his attention to detail. Focused on the smallest minutiae of everyday life, and driven by a sincere dedication to the art of simply being alive, Perfect Days is an incredible film, filled with earnest emotions and wonderful attention to detail that is profoundly moving and never anything less than astonishing in the sheer scope of its humanity, something that Wenders handles beautifully, reaffirming his status as one of our greatest living auteurs, and the person responsible for some of the most compassionate, honest filmmaking of the past few decades, this film being a firm reminder of his talents and a remarkable piece of humanistic storytelling.