These kinds of slice-of-lice, beauty-in-life's-minutia arthouse pictures have a tough time pleasing me. As someone who already finds infinite value in 'the little things', they do little for me -- which I understand may sound a bit silly, or like I'm tooting my own horn. However, after seeing so many reviews on here describe how the film provided them with new insights, or even completely altered their worldview, I can't help feeling like me being left out of that catharsis is because of that exact reason. This is not to say that I naturally dislike these kinds of films, it's just that I require more to be satisfied than a Portrait of a Man Entire. Just like unabashed misery porn, I want it to be more, to say something, to be about something (e.g. PATERSON is an ode to creativity; SORRY WE MISSED YOU tackles social issues). Otherwise, you're taking a peek into a random (and. Frankly, somewhat uninteresting) individual just for the sake of it. Now, I'm not going to pretend like this is 2 hours of doing merely that, but every attempt to direct attention to other themes isn't as much half-baked as it is barely out of the fridge. Generational divide, for example, is presented through a single disposable interaction that reeks of out-of-touch boomerisms (what teenager would ask their old uncle if an artist on their tape can be found on Spotify?). What this all ends up doing is making the whole thing unbearably dull, even without considering how the first hour is basically GROUNDHOG DAY if Bill Murray lost his memory just like everyone else: endless repetitions of the same exact routine -- which can work, as Jarmusch has proven, which is truly ironic considering how much of an inspiration Wenders was to him. Almost feels like Wenders wanted to turn the tables, but ended up doing nothing but imitate, and making a lackluster imitation at that. Pulls some very obvious emotional punches which have clearly resonated with a ton of people -- but for me, they hit nothing but dead air.
Review of Perfect Days
