Perfect Days (2023)

The hero of Perfect Days cleans public toilets in Tokyo, owns cassettes a shop says are worth real money, and only sells one when his van runs out of fuel. Kōji Yakusho plays Hirayama with barely any dialogue, and you still know everything he feels. Cannes gave him its Best Actor prize. Wim Wenders runs the same day on a loop: up at dawn, music in the van, scrubbing, lunch under the trees at a shrine, reading before bed. A running tic-tac-toe match against a stranger, played on a scrap of paper hidden in a stall, is the closest thing to suspense. The loop is the point, but it can tip into a sermon about how to live. When his runaway niece Niko turns up, the family he never talks about comes knocking, and Yakusho’s face carries a whole backstory the script never says out loud. A 9.2 because it makes an ordinary week look like a gift. $46.98 says tomorrow morning you photograph sunlight through the leaves and start saying komorebi like you’ve always known the word.

What works: Kōji Yakusho gives a near-silent performance packed with feeling, and Wenders finds real beauty in cassettes, trees and a job most people never think about.

What doesn’t: The repetition is deliberate but sometimes preachy, and the film never explains why Hirayama cut himself off from his family.

Who it’s for: Anyone burned out on loud movies, and people who find comfort in a good routine and an old cassette.