Rental Family

Rental Family might be on the mawkish side, but Hikari's comedy-drama, about a struggling American actor seeking connection and purpose in Japan, has its charms.

It opens with the hustle of Tokyo, the world’s most densely populated capital, where its swarms of residents and tourists can make you invisible. That is the case for Phillip (Brendan Fraser), a thespian living a sad, solitary life.

His dreary, washed out existence mostly involves watching the lives of others play out through his tiny apartment window, engaging a sex worker for intimacy, and failing to convert his talent into substantial work. Fraser is perfect for a role that perhaps mirrors with his own career decline in the early 2000s. He brings a melancholy gentleness to a middle-aged man in quiet crisis. 

Enter ‘Rental Family’, a niche agency, based on real life, that specialises in using actors to play roles in the lives of its clients. Whether it’s a depressed man hearing kind words at his own mocked-up funeral to find a reason to live, or a closeted lesbian getting married to Phillip's ‘Canadian groom Brian’ so she can move on with her lover, the agency offers emotional catharsis and forward momentum in a culture that doesn't always make it easy.

Every once in a while, a sweet, hopeful ending is exactly what audiences need

The ‘east vs west’ culture clash between Phillip, agency owner Shinji and agency actor Aiko (played by Monarch: Legacy of Monsters' Takehiro Hira and Mari Yamamoto, respectively) makes for some comical teething issues. But once Phillip fully embraces the role of token white guy on the agency books, it gets ethically iffy. Some of the actors' ‘scene partners’ are vulnerable and unaware of the deceit. As Phillip gets more intertwined in their lives, the plot veers into white saviour territory.

Still, there’s a lightness of touch in Hikari’s direction and she draws strong performances from the supporting cast. Shannon Mahina Gorman’s Mia, a tenacious young girl without a father, and Akira Emoto's Kikuo, a veteran of Japanese cinema concerned with his legacy and unresolved feelings, showcase palpable depth without being overwrought. It's just a shame that Hira and Yamamoto didn't get more room to explore their characters and their complications, which are merely hinted at.

Everything is wrapped up a little too neatly by the final act. But with the epidemic of loneliness only growing larger, maybe, every once in a while, a sweet, hopeful ending is exactly what audiences need from cinema.

To feel seen. To be reminded that it's going to be okay.

In UK and Ireland cinemas Fri Jan 16.