I too am dreaming about the light and shadows on the wall, the ones that dance as the leaves sway in the wind. I am dreaming of them the way this film dreams of them. Not stopping there, I am also dreaming about the God who made the light and the shadows.
Perfect Days is a film that, like its ever-present Tokyo toilet cleaner Hirayama, is captivated by the way the light and shadows play with one another. He and the film are so taken by them, in fact, that they both dream in that shadowlight language.
Those shimmering images, in and of themselves, are enough to fill hours of dreams. What this film suggests about those images, though, is even more dream-worthy. The movie considers the way each image that is seen happens only once. In a way, the scene outside your window only exists at this moment and will never be repeated exactly this way. Through this idea, the film is suggesting things about art, life, and temporality. As I will explore further below, films that sink deep into contemplation of these things are a gift to thoughtful Christian audiences as they can lead to fruitful and joyful reflections on eternity.
Director Wim Wenders follows our protagonist through the rhythms of his waking, his daily cleaning work, his decompression in the evening, and then follows him as he drifts off to sleep and dreams. As we follow alongside as viewers, we find ourselves wanting to join Hirayama in his daily work and routines. We want to see what he sees and hear what he hears. We want to share a bit of life with him so we can learn what makes him who he is.
We want to learn, of course, how this man can seemingly enjoy and look forward to work that many of us would consider a slog. We want to learn how he uses his free time in the lovely ways he does. He appreciates the trees and the light and grabs hold of those images with his camera. That is not all he appreciates, though. There seems to be a constant presence of art in his life….photography, music, and literature. We can imagine that this art serves as a commentator and companion to him in his everyday life. Perhaps this art is one of the ways he receives the strength to press on joyfully in what would seem to be a daily and repetitive grind? Perhaps he sees the light and shadows and even the toilets through the compelling refractive lens of the art that fills his life. Perhaps the art whispers to him of an eternity that transcends mundanity, an eternity that will someday show us the meaning of the mysteries of our current everyday lives.
So what of eternity? Are we to despair that each play of the shadows is never to be repeated? It is possible that Hirayama, given the Japanese setting, would maintain a Shinto or Buddhist understanding of these images that only exist for this moment in time. (I wish I could ask him what this idea means to him!) For the Christian viewer, this film’s wonderful exploration of temporality is a special gift that can lead to considerations of eternity. Christians are taught to hope and look forward to a new heavens and a new earth that will be revealed when Christ returns. The idea of a new earth, in particular, excites us with the possibility that light, shadows and trees will not only still exist for all eternity but will be more beautiful than ever they were before.
We may find ourselves grieving that the shadowplay will not be seen again in the way we see it at this moment in time. Yet that grieving, for the Christian, can lead to a thirst to drink in each moment and image before it vanishes, a thirst to appreciate and give thanks to God for what we see before us right at this moment. Prompted by a film like this, that grieving can also give way to a joyful hope that an eternity will be coming on the heels of this temporal world. The hope is that it will be an eternity filled with endless wondrous variations on the shadow dance. Somehow, too, it will not be possible to forget that the dance is all from the hand of a good and generous God. The dance happens this precise way only once at this moment in time. Someday, though, the dance may go on with each moment as new as the first time the shadows played with the light. — Brian Duignan (2024)
Arts & Faith Lists:
2024 Arts & Faith Ecumenical Jury — #4