- Perfect Days
After a series of pleasant meetings with those who had been promised for a long time yesterday (in the morning and afternoon, heavy rain in the afternoon delayed a little more than planned, but anyway, everyone met safely and happily ^^)
I was on a bus home from downtown, and I just passed “CineCube,” and I remembered that “Perfect Days” and “Before Sunrise” are doing it these days, so I thought it would fit in the last performance, so I got off the bus recklessly,
The final performance of “Perfect Days” is 5 minutes away, and “Before Sunrise” is 35 minutes away. I was thinking about what to watch. It’s ambiguous to just wait 30 minutes, and I think “Perfect Days” is more destined. I decided to do that! (Although I really wanted to see “Before Sunrise” too.)
And to tell you the reviews…
Well, I was completely taken aback by the geographical and trivial scenes of daily life that filled the movie, which came to me so familiarly. So, from waking up on a mattress in the sixth room tatami mat in the first scene, old sink with water heater, going to town on holiday by bicycle, coin rundries, regular restaurants, pubs, beverage vending machines in front of my house, Shibuya that I used to pass every day on my way to and from school from Tokyo, used bookstores, and a gentleman with a small forest that I sometimes drop by when I feel depressed…
I was wondering what the hell is with this two-hour-long sense of deja vu (though I have no experience with the most important ‘toilet cleaning’ in the movie–;)
It’s a “daily life” that repeats like a squirrel chat wheel, but the comfort and relief of the familiarity, the sound of broom on the street that makes the alarm sound every morning, welcome friends who make you smile and smile at some point without talking a word because they meet every day, a regular restaurant that already knows my taste and serves food, and a glass of cool Namabiru that relieves all the tiredness of the day.
All of them seem insignificant, but his solid daily life falters without one of these. So maybe this movie is saying that life is a mosaic. Individual pieces alone are nothing, but without those pieces, the puzzle can never be completed.
Nevertheless, I looked anxiously throughout how much longer his small but firm daily life could continue. If you look closely, his daily life can never be completed on his own. His life, which he encounters at those points of contact, is easy only when the world surrounding him is regularly intertwined.
What if fewer people come to public baths and they close their business? What if the beverage dispenser in front of their home is suddenly removed? What if the daily homeless man in the park disappears one day? What will happen to his day then? If not for those hard days, when his co-worker suddenly quit and has spread completely to overtime, his calm hours will surely falter and his petty happiness will crack.
It seems to me that this anxiety of life was underlying throughout the entire movie. So even a simple daily life like that is difficult to maintain by individual struggle is possible only when more external factors (we might call it ‘society’) are well endured.
In that sense, what bothered me the most throughout the movie was whether the life of being able to easily buy the film of that film camera and leave it to that store every week can continue. lol Japan would be better than us, but it doesn’t seem easy in Korea to find a film and a place that prints it. ㅠㅠ( (I heard this story recently from my husband who still uses a film camera lol)
I don’t know if the coach’s intention is here, but for me, I think I watched that hard-looking daily life like a tightrope walk that I was afraid of when it would break like glass.
Nevertheless, when you stop by to finish the day, you see a restaurant owner greeted with his usual food, without having to sit down and order, with a warm “thank you” greeting,
I want to go there again and meet the owner again, as I recall the restaurant I once belonged to in Kyoto. It’s probably already gone, and even if it’s there, it’s no longer there.