Perfect Days
Wim Wenders
2023, 123 mins.
The man who loves trees
What a serene life: toilet cleaner in Tokyo by day, avid pop music lover (from “The House of the Rising Sun” through “Feeling Good”) and reader (William Faulkner, Patricia Highsmith and Aya Kedi to name a few) when not scrubbing lavatories, Hirayama (Koji Yakusho steals and carries the production from top to bottom).
For some, Wenders’ pace and style may seem too slow; for the rest of us it is a masterpiece of near silent reflection and insight (Hirayama is a virtual mute until his niece, Niko—Arisa Nakano—unexpectedly shows up. What’s an uncle to do?)
Following this initially wordless life over a fortnight, viewers are treated to mundane daily routines, bathrooms of all sorts (including a hidden-away game of X’s and O’s—perhaps from the mysterious woman in the park!?), a homeless man (artfully rendered by Min Tanaka) whose equal silence and near-balletic movements are at one with the overall tone, and an unscrupulous workmate (Tokio Emoto as the feckless Takashi), more there to provide balance than add much to the narrative.
But Hirayama’s true co-stars are the leaves forever moving in tall trees (aka Komorebi).
Thoughtful viewers can only watch in their own quiet jealousy, realizing that Hirayama has truly figured life out—bumps along the road or not. JWR
Robot Dreams
Pablo Berger
2023, 142 mins.
It’s a dog’s life
At various times in our lives, we have all experienced the feeling of loneliness. In the case of Dog, he opts to build his own companion (quite a different take on man’s best friend) and construct a moving-parts robot to keep his inner blues at bay.
Using the NYC’s East Village as a backdrop during the ‘80s, the unlikely pair begin to explore their surroundings and each other (in a platonic sense, of course). But as they go to shops, ride the subway, enjoy the marvels of Central Park, there’s not a human to be found—completely surrounded by other animals, some friendly, others not so much (well, isn’t that the human experience?).
All goes well until an idyllic visit to Ocean Beach reveals Robot’s Achilles heel: after frolicking with Dog in fish-filled water, Robot does what any metallic creature would: he succumbs to rust, unable to move anything except his eyes (all creatures—robotic or not have the same eye colouration: white cornea and black pupil). Too heavy to lift, the marooned pal has to be abandoned on the beach even as the storied park closes for the season. That situation leads to the narrative’s weakest plot point: with a visibly over-zealous security team patrolling the beach—open or closed—why was the unmoving Robot not summarily sent to the trash? Well, in that case, there would be no movie. Never mind, easily overlooked.
From there it’s a series of fantastical dreams (my favourite was the Daisy tap dance sequence; runner-up being the Snowman/Dog bowling competition) and the emergence of new friends—some fair weather, some most certainly fowl.
Naturally, there is no dialogue (or should that be dogalogue?). No worries. Alfonso de Vilallomgo’s mallet-rich original score (and many pop songs from the era) keep the ear entertained even as the army of animators engage the eye in every scene.
Berger has crafted a film that is truly for the whole family, whether wagging their tales/tails or enjoying the continuous action with glee.
A viewing is recommended. JWR
Amongst the Trees
Trent Uppen, Jack Jensen
2023, 75 mins.
“It always finds a way to grow”
No better way to finish this year’s coverage of the Palm Springs International Film Festival than with the world premiere (in the Local Spotlight section) of a production focussing on Joshua Tree’s gritty basketball team, aka the Fighting Cacti, whose home is the smallest community college in California: Copper Mountain College. Having been to Joshua Tree, Twentynine Palms and, of course, Palm Springs since 1997 (my first film festival there), I have an affinity for the people and the desert.
Barely a few years in existence, the team has attracted players and coaches from many states and many backgrounds—truly a fresh start for all, whether a former felon, recovering from a bullet wound or a new dad. What comes across from the get-go, is the feeling of “all in the family,” where “selfishness is not allowed”. Oh to have that motto in politics!
Uppen and Jensen artfully weave together on-court footage with archival flashbacks and detailed participants’ bios. It’s a film that goes far beyond the game (with its team dedication, ups, downs and bonding), but most certainly is a universal primer for one real-time way of going past the scores and standings then figuring out just what life is all about. JWR