When was the last time you stopped and truly appreciated a moment? Whether it was looking at the shifting clouds in the sky, listening to the birds in the trees, or just feeling the wind breeze wash against your skin? Modern society’s collective Achilles’ heel is its addiction to speed, productivity, and constant self-optimization. With this constant productivity-obsessed culture that we live in and tendency toward mindless scrolling, it is hard to stop for a moment and appreciate life for what it is. Only in retrospect, when the moment has slipped through our fingers, do we wish we had paused to take it all in. In a world that moves too fast, it is rare to find a film that urges us to slow down. Perfect Days is one of those films.

Wim Wender’s Perfect Days offers a window into slow living, a life of quiet simplicity - one that hints at the daily wrestle with traumas we all encounter. It follows the everyday life of a public restroom cleaner, Hirayama, in modern-day Tokyo as he moves through his days with contentment, grace, and an inspiring routine. His life is one of quiet rebellion against the endless consumption and brutal productivity that does not leave space for living. Through its repetition of the main character’s routine, we begin to question how we can embrace a life of presence, satisfaction, and a slower pace. Somewhere along the way, it seems that we have forgotten to live and just be. The desire for speed, quicker actions, and faster productivity has washed away the beauty of doing nothing. Doing nothing is seen as a waste of time and an opportunity squandered. It has gone as far as making rest - the time once meant for recharging - now monetized and repackaged as an opportunity for self-improvement and self-optimization. Open the app store on your phone, and you will find a dozen apps promoting the idea of making your downtime more productive - whether it is through learning a new language or managing your schedule better.

Recommendations from social media videos and articles push us to achieve more and optimize our day. Even meditations and mindfulness sessions that are supposed to be 45 minutes of stillness have now been reduced to one-minute sessions that serve only as quick sedatives and a streak to be followed up the next day. While it is good to be ambitious in life, not taking any downtime only exposes us to more worry and achieves nothing of true substance in the end.

Hirayama’s way of life stands in contrast to all of this. His routine has a spiritual quality that acts as a cure, keeping him going and doing his work with such contentment and satisfaction. His routine consists of getting ready for work every day, watering his plants, listening to music ritually and exclusively on cassette tapes while driving to work, methodically cleaning the toilets around Tokyo, reading, and then dreaming at night. What may not look special at first becomes the core of the film through repetition, even when it is disturbed by outside forces. He does not rush through his tasks, nor does he fill his break with distractions. During his downtime, Hirayama does not rush to consume information but rather notices the beautiful patterns of light that finds its way to him through the trees of a park. He recognizes his time as a period of rest and notices the life happening around him as he goes through it.

Yet, Wenders does not romanticize Hirayama’s life. Amidst all of this mindfulness, Hirayama’s life is not easy - it would be naïve of anyone to assume it is. In the pursuit of preserving his enlightenment throughout the movie, there are scenes in the film that cast a long dark shadow from his past, showing the viewer that he, too, is human like the rest of us, carrying burdens and emotions that can easily overtake him; the only difference is that he is trying and choosing to face life with quiet acceptance. He recognizes that fulfillment is not found in big achievements but in appreciating the unnoticed. Beauty for him is in carrying his work with diligence.

Peace does not necessarily have to be reclusion - as some may describe his lifestyle - but rather the cheerful interactions he has with all the citizens of Tokyo surrounding him. One of the film’s many impactful scenes is a long take of Hirayama’s face as he drives. The expression drifts between delight and despair, childlike joy and elderly wisdom, as he heads for another day of work. The early morning sunbeam enlightens the city again for a new day, along with Nina Simone’s powerful vocal cords - a moment of pure, fleeting transcendence.

This is why mindfulness and presence matter. They allow us to move at a normal human pace rather than chasing the next goal mindlessly without ever looking back. The recognition of slowing down as not being a failure is important. It is an act of resistance in a world that glorifies exhaustion. The expectation to always have a packed schedule, to constantly “clear the to-do list,” feeds into the illusion that we can do it all. But at what cost?

One of the greatest gifts of cinema is not just in appreciating art but in discovering new ways of living. Hirayama’s lifestyle in Perfect Days is a testament to the fact that slowing down does not mean doing nothing, but rather being fully present in whatever we do. So, take some time and watch this gem of a film, and let it remind you to notice the small details in your daily life. As stressful as life can get, one must take the time to recognize its ephemeral nature.