There are a few fundamental needs that every one of us has – nourishment and shelter being the primary rights that we are universally supposed to be afforded. Yet, something that we very rarely discuss as being an absolute necessity is genuine human connection. Regardless of who you are or where you come from, we all crave some kind of bond with others, whether intimately or from a distance. Even those who choose to lead entirely isolated lives are known to have deep-seated desires to be seen and understood. Yet, loneliness remains one of the most widespread issues across the globe, and the fact that it’s not spoken about as a genuine social epidemic is a sign of how far too many people don’t take it all that seriously. This is a subject that we find guides Rental Family (Japanese: レンタル・ファミリー), the second directorial outing by Hikari, who tells the story of Phillip, a down-on-his-luck actor who has been living in Japan for nearly a decade, having achieved a brief moment of mild fame after a commercial he was in became a minor sensation, leading him to chase the same attention he received many years before. This leads him to be headhunted by a local acting company that specialises in “family rentals”, where their employees are hired by clients, and requested to play a variety of roles in both social and domestic situations. Phillip finds himself playing a range of roles – a husband to a queer woman who needs to hide her identity from her conservative family, the absent father of a young girl and a curious reporter interviewing a long-forgotten actor who is struggling with dementia. Each of these clients not only teaches him about Japanese society, but reveals new aspects of his own identity that suddenly allow him to realise that there is much more to life than just chasing something that was never his to own in the first place. A charming, effective blend of comedy and drama that makes it a thoroughly entertaining and heartfelt exploration of human connection and the importance of finding your own happiness through stepping out of your comfort zone, Rental Family is a lovely film that may not be particularly original, but has enough candour and charm to compensate for any major shortcomings.

The concept of renting an actor to play a particular role is certainly not new, since we’ve seen films like Yorgos Lanthimos’ Alps and Werner Herzog’s Family Romance, LLC tackle the same subject matter (the latter even sharing the same setting and a lot of narrative details) and it is not surprising to find out that this story is steeped heavily in reality, since Japan has a solid industry built around hiring actors to play particular roles in a variety of social settings. In theory, this sounds mildly amusing at best, but it’s only when we engage directly with it through these stories that we see why so many people resort to spending their money in such a way. It’s a fascinating subject, and one of those quirky cultural details that we can appreciate once we have spent some time exploring it within a very particular context. This is where Rental Family proves to be quite effective, since through taking the approach of exploring this subject, it’s able to not only provide insights into the industry, but also comment critically on a range of other themes, some more prominent than others. The core of the film is obviously family – whether biological, adoptive or chosen, we all desire to be a part of a group, where we can be open and vulnerable with those who share our common interests or with whom we have some deeper connection. However, this is not always possible for many people, so it makes sense to focus on a foreigner who has chosen to make Japan his home – he is not a tourist nor someone there for a temporary amount of time, but rather has made the conscious decision to take up residence in a country where he immediately stands out, genuinely believing that these differences are what will bring him success. Through this, the film comments on loneliness, culture shock (which can still be a regular fixture in someone’s life, even after many years of living in a country) and the desire we all have to make meaningful connections wherever possible. Rental Family contains many complex ideas, delivering them in a simple way, removing all ambiguity and instead allowing the story to develop organically and with a very precise attention to detail wherever possible.

Rental Family is a film that can only thrive with the right performer in the main part. Phillip Vandarploeug (and his many alter egos) is a difficult role to pin down, since it requires an actor who can play into the more vulnerable, sensitive aspects of this character without making him into a pathetic sadsack who inspires more pity than he does sympathy. The choice to cast Brendan Fraser seems so obvious in hindsight – not only is he a terrific actor, but as we’ve seen since his recent comeback, his incredible moral fibre and undeniable sincerity indicates that he is a truly genuine person, someone who brings thoughtfulness and nuance to every role, and embraces each one of them with a deep affection and attention to detail. He is not some immensely gifted thespian capable of astonishing character work, but rather attuned to the nuances that come with being an everyman, which is exactly what the role required. This is career-best work from Fraser, who seems to have been born for these kinds of roles, with his performance underlining his unconventional charms and ability to hold our attention, even with a relatively simple character that may have been one-dimensional in the hands of someone who didn’t see the potential beneath the surface. It also helps that Fraser has chemistry with every one of his fellow actors – whether its the young and rambunctious Shannon Mahina Gorman in her first major film role, or an industry veteran like Akira Emoto, who brings such wisdom and heart to another part that could have been an archetype had another actor been given the part, Fraser proves to be beyond generous, giving them time to develop not only their characters, but forge a meaningful relationship with the audience. At a glance, it seems like very simple work, but Fraser (and the entire cast) know that there are many layers to these characters, and with the help of the director, manage to bring out every ounce of emotional resonance that lingers beneath the surface. It’s stellar work across the board, and it is always a wonderful reminder to see an actor like Fraser prove that he can still be a compelling presence on screen, especially when all that he has to prove himself is a well-written character who represents something much larger than can be contained in a single role.

When we look at the core of Rental Family and the reasons why it works so well, we notice that this is a film built on a very simple premise. It is nothing more than a series of episodic vignettes that follow the protagonist as he goes on these assignments, and then gradually begins to develop strong emotional attachments to all of his clients, which then becomes the adhesive that binds the film together. In the hands of a less-skilled filmmaker, it would likely be hopelessly trite and frankly manipulative – but Hikari is someone who cares more about the experience than she does the concept, which is a fascinating detail that allows the film to be a far more engaging affair. Understanding how a film such as this sets out to handle complex, layered emotions, we have to look at the execution of some of its core ideas – the subject of a man whose loneliness and desire to feel some connection leads to him taking on the role of a surrogate to people who have similar needs is fertile ground for a complex character study about the nature of community and how society can sometimes ostracise those who need the most help. Hikari understands the importance of this film is not to focus on the words or ideas that are communicated, but rather the feelings – these are what will linger with the viewer long after the film has ended, and as a result, she makes a concerted effort not dwell too heavily on the more heavy-handed emotions, but rather those that feel more familiar. It should be said that Rental Family is not immune to the usual predictable issues we find with these stories – there is no shortage of moments where the sentimentality slightly eclipses the more subtle thematic cues, but this is to be expected, especially for a film that is essentially a story of how only human connection can truly help someone overcome their immense loneliness. However, rather than focusing on these moments, the director employs an equal number of more elegant, subtle scenes in which the focus is not as evident, and we can just peacefully watch this man as he attempts to forge meaningful bonds with people who would otherwise not have paid him any attention in most other circumstances, becoming a quietly moving exploration of friendship and the value in giving space to those who need it the most.

Rental Family is certainly not a film that can ever be considered particularly revolutionary or unique – if anything, it is aiming to capture the same spirit of films like Lost in Translation and The Darjeeling Limited, fish-out-of-water stories about westerners seeking salvation in a seemingly exotic part of the world, but find that the only path towards happiness is through looking inwards and finding the satisfaction that dwells within them. It’s very careful to not fixate on stereotype (although a Japanese director and a creative team mainly native to the country does make a big difference in avoiding hackneyed depictions of the country and its culture – if anything, we can appreciate their willingness to be so candid and upfront about its many beautiful nuances), and instead focuses on the more universal themes – friendship, loneliness, the importance of embracing challenges with the right attitude and the power of finding the strength to move through life with confidence and faith in your own skills. It’s a wonderfully endearing work, and while it is far from perfect, Hikari did create something quite beautiful, a simple and evocative film that is as funny as it is heartbreaking, showing the journey of one man as he sets out to make a living, but inadvertently changes multiple lives in the process, even when that was never the direct intention. It’s a film driven by its desire to evoke warmth and comfort in the viewer, so some sentimentality is to be expected – but it is all in service of the overall themes of this film, which aim to examine what it means to be human through a touching story of unexpected connections and the lifelong companionships (both physical and metaphorical) that can emerge in the process, a truly delightful and captivating comedy that is genuinely lovely, even at its most predictable.