2024-01-11 23:32:22
For Wim Wenders, cinema is more than just a profession. He sees himself as a craftsman, as someone who builds something with his hands to try to change things, even a little. Even in his most unsuccessful films – which unfortunately have been several lately – you can see this care in each story he decides to tell. There is always that passion in Wenders with which he dazzled in auteur cinema thanks to masterpieces such as The Sky Over Berlin or, above all, Paris, Texas. There is also in him a filmmaker who never tires of trying, playing and discovering. There are his documentaries with stunning 3D where, for example, he gave us a new (three-dimensional) perspective on Pina Bausch’s dance.
That Wim Wenders continues making films is good news for everyone. Cinema is a little better with authors like him, committed and humble. If he also returns to his prime with a movie like Perfect Days, the good news is even better. The film, which won the Best Actor award at Cannes for Koji Yakusho, follows a public toilet cleaner in Tokyo who is clear that his work improves the lives of others. A slow, exciting film, which Ozu breathes through every pore of it and which is accompanied by a soundtrack full of classics by Lou Reed, Nina Simone and Patti Smith.
Where did the idea of telling this story about a urinal cleaner in Japan come from?
I have liked Japanese culture since I first discovered it in the 70s. When I went to Tokyo I felt strangely at home. And it still happens to me. When I don’t go for a long time I feel homesick. As if it were my country, even though my country is really Germany. It all started when I saw Yasujiro Ozu’s films and felt such a deep affinity with them… I felt that he represented not only Japan, but that he truly represented humanity more than any other film he had ever seen.
He captured family in a very universal sense and I felt at home within his universe. The way in which the Japanese live together is very peculiar. They have a very pronounced sense of the common good and social responsibility. It’s all because they live close together on this little island, so they’ve developed a great way of living together and dealing with space and being very close to each other.
Being in Tokyo during rush hour is not a burden as it would be in Berlin, where I avoid it because it is so unpleasant. In Tokyo it’s even pretty. I love taking the subway in Tokyo at that time. The Japanese have learned how to live in big cities and how to live together. They accepted the rules differently than in our countries, where the main mantra is ‘me first’. In Japan it is the opposite, ‘all of us together first’ and then comes the ‘I’. And that is represented in the character of Hirayama.
A character who is dedicated to cleaning public toilets, doing work for the community.
He is doing a job for other people and he likes to do it as well as possible. That’s something I like about Japan too, this idea of doing things the best you can, even if they’re not for yourself. I like the way craftsmen are respected in Japan. In our culture, artisans are at the bottom of the social scale and in Japan the opposite is true, they are highly respected and revered. Some artisans are almost national monuments for making something with their hands. I like respect for work done by others and a job well done, and Hirayama represents that idea.
Is there also a reflection on cinematographic creation in this reflection on craftsmanship?
Making films is undoubtedly a craft. Today cinema is considered either an art or an industry, and cinema takes place in this gap between art and industry. Filmmaking is largely artisanal. Although it is not really done with the hands, but it is done with the eyes and together with other people who are artisans. The cameramen, the sound engineers, the wardrobe people… and with actors. Acting is definitely a craftsman thing, so I like the idea of craftsmanship in movies, and I like filmmakers who didn’t consider themselves artists and who didn’t consider themselves industrial artists, but who considered themselves craftsmen.
One of my favorite directors, who considered himself strictly a craftsman, was Yasujiro Ozu. My great teacher, from whom I learned so much. Not in terms of how to make films but in terms of how to look at yourself and how to represent people’s lives through your own craft. With him I learned a lot about craftsmanship and spirit at work, because very often in cinema films are made without spirit. They are made with little sense of craftsmanship and little spirit. And for me, these are the key words of cinema: craft and spirit.
A few months ago, when he collected the award at the Barcelona Film Fest, he said that he was not optimistic…
He was not optimistic about the state of things, nor about politics, nor about where the world was. But I really am an eternal optimist. Sometimes it’s good to pretend you’re not an optimist so you can tell a story, but I really am an optimist. I like my character because he starts every morning with a smile and because he thinks that if he keeps doing things the best he knows how, he can contribute something. It may not change the world, but if there were more people like Hirayama we would have a different world.
So yes it is optimistic.
The thing is, the way things are, if you’re not optimistic you’ll shoot yourself. I am 78 years old and I have never seen things as bad as they are now. I remember when the Berlin Wall fell. We all realized that from that moment on the world was going to go in a different direction. What we didn’t know was that it was going to get worse. The same thing could very well be happening right now. I might not turn on the television anymore and read the newspapers anymore because I’m already fed up. I’m sick and tired. I am desperate for the state of the world and seeing people everywhere making wrong decisions and heading in the wrong direction. They choose solutions such as nationalism or revenge. They choose solutions that, in the history of our planet, have always proven to be the worst.
Nationalism has never been a savior nor has it helped anything. It has always made things worse. The worst situations on our continent arose from nationalist thinking. There were hundreds of wars in Europe because of it. So today I would be totally devastated if I wasn’t optimistic and didn’t think that things can change and that humanity has the potential for change. I wish people would learn lessons from history. There is no better teacher than the errors of history. So yes, I am still an optimist and I think that Perfect Days is an act of pure optimism and that contrasts with the image we have of the world at the moment. I think contrarian imagery is productive right now.
You have been president of the European Film Academy. How do you see European cinema today?
European cinema has allies all over the world. There is an independent cinema in the US that is a true ally of our European cinema and that considers itself more of a craft than an industry. European cinema plays a huge role in the world and encourages people to tell their own stories. European cinema, by definition, comes from different cultures and tells stories from different countries that would be very different elsewhere. Perfect Days is a specific story that could only happen in Tokyo. I couldn’t have made the film anywhere else. I like specific stories, and that is the essence of European cinema.
You are a German director who is going to represent Japan at the Oscars, how did you experience the news?
I was surprised when they called me from Japan and told me that the committee had chosen our film to represent them at the Oscars. I was a little scared, but then I realized why they did it. They did it because they love Koji Yakusho, the leading actor. He is highly revered and respected there. I am the director of Koji Yakusho and he is the one who represents Japan at the Oscars. I am his partner.
#Wim #Wenders #fed #desperate #state #world