Elders and authenticity
South Korea is currently experiencing the effects of the Baby Boom generation reaching retirement age, leading to a significant increase in the elderly population. They’ve worked their entire lives. Many live alone but bring an authenticity and energy to their lives. Many others suffer and want social and familial support for loneliness, lack of necessities and for eliciting the contributions they still can make. I remember walking through Songpa District in Seoul and seeing droves of older people manually cutting the grass of Pungnaptoseong. From recycling to gardening to running shops or selling streetside, older people still count.
In this regard, I recommend viewing the 2023 film “Perfect Days,” starring Kōji Yakusho. It tells the story of a Japanese man at the door of elder status and his effort to maintain a full and authentic life. He does this as a solitary man in general, and I think he does it well. In this way, the character Hirayama is an example for the present day, and perhaps for many other days and times too.
Hirayama lives in a simple apartment where he cares for plants. They hold great meaning for him. The plants aren’t people but represent life for him and a basis for self-reflection. Hirayama is a creature of routine and habit, rising each morning to water his plants, dress, take a coffee from the vending machine, and go about his routine of work. He brings a lot of efficiency and care to his job, which is cleaning toilets in Tokyo! Hirayama stops each day on his route to eat a sandwich at a temple in a park. He looks in wonder at a beautiful tall tree that shines in the sky, snapping pictures, which he keeps meticulously in his apartment, like Vivian Maier. He has a few local haunts for dinner, enjoying simple meals and a few libations now and again.
Hirayama loves others, even though he apparently hasn’t married and has no plans to do so. He encourages others by his habitual presence and relative silence, as he doesn’t talk much. Instead, simple acts of kindness extend his love. Hirayama counsels his niece, who visits him after an argument with her mother, to live fully in the present and let cares go. He leaves a simple tic-tac-toe message in one of his bathrooms as a way of encouraging another person. He engages an indirect acquaintance with terminal cancer in seeing life’s meaning late at night by the Sumida River. He helps a young co-worker attempting to woo his first girlfriend.
Hirayama loves music, including Van Morrison and Nina Simone. He still listens to cassette tapes and doesn’t understand Spotify. His cassettes, books and plants are treasures for him. They aren’t escape from life but rather his expression of life, and as ways he channels his energies for existence. All of us need ways to center thinking and feeling to maintain life’s momentum and to join in it.
Not all is happiness and Nirvana for Hirayama. His sister’s visit brings on a moment of mourning, and one has the sense that he doesn’t particularly care to visit his father. Too many parents scold, berate, and put down their children to such an extent that they never see them (much) when the child achieves adult independence. One way of viewing the character is that he has accepted a poor lot in life due to being brow-beaten by his own family. However, I think this aspect doesn’t appreciate that a happy life includes awareness of its mortal limits and imperfection. If Hirayama had an unhappy childhood, he’s found the wherewithal and inner fortitude to transcend it and move forward — in spades!
Of course, the character in this film meets his physical needs and need for external goods (money) to survive and thrive. His lifestyle won’t suit everyone and isn’t meant to do. However, as many successful and wealthy individuals discover these days, there’s more to life than business and being busy. Beyond having what one needs, and some for others, life concerns more than work. In its own way, the film shows that the older adults still have wisdom.
In America, South Korea, and elsewhere, we should embrace the cycle of life, its mix of the wistful, shadowy and the clear. We shouldn’t eschew sharing its joy in diverse ways, for our good and the good of others. “Perfect Days” represents what to the pedestrian would be called a solitary or lonely man. On further inspection, Hirayama is a good and happy man and comfortable in his own skin. Social organizations, local governments, and national ministries need to elicit and provide for the limitless potential of older adults. Not everyone is so heroic as Hirayama. We need to treasure and uplift the elders in our midst.
Bernard Rowan (browan10@yahoo.com) is associate provost for contract administration and academic services and professor of political science at Chicago State University. He is a past fellow of the Korea Foundation and former visiting professor at Hanyang University.