In an age of isolationism, Rental Family is a breath of fresh community building and culture blending. Set in the present day and directed by Hikari (and co-written by Hikari and Stephen Blahut), Rental Family presents a narrative focused on a semi-has-been white actor, Philip (Brendan Fraser), who finds that his former success within the Japanese commercial/film industry has waned enough that he is desperate for work. As a 外人 (がいじん/gaijin or literally translated as “outside person”), Philip is caught between cultures and cannot quite assimilate in either direction. This stranger-in-a-strange-land characteristic becomes the crux of the plot when he is introduced into a company whose sole focus is “renting” out employees to play-act different characters or roles in their clients’ lives.
Shinji, the owner of the “Rental Family” firm and portrayed by the masterful Takehiro Hira, offers Phillip something he has not had in years: purpose. How far Phillip can go into the playacting world Shinji has created can only be experienced in real-time, but believe me: it’s a journey worth going on with him.
Some who might be more keyed into media literacy might shy away from a story including a cis-male/white lead in an otherwise Japanese cast, but what this film does is tactfully touch on notes of white saviourism, without actually playing into many of its tropes. What’s beautiful about Phillip’s journey is that to the contrary of most films starring a character of his demographic, his growth is focused less on creating a world in which he, himself, gains personal and professional acclaim in his role as the “token white guy”. Instead, his dark and drab apartment (and life) are both figuratively and literally brightened by the infusion of his new-found community into it. He grows by becoming part of the world he is in instead of superseding it. Once, there was a man whose entire personality was summed up in his clandestinely inviting himself into the lives of others he could see from the silent loneliness of his own shoebox apartment. As he realizes the roles he’s playing in others’ lives are far more real than he realized, he has the opportunity to become so much more.
What “Rental Family” does best, though, is investigate the depth of an ensemble cast that very few films attempt to delve into. Aiko (portrayed by the captivating Mari Yamamoto) is set up to fill the secretarial role that both narratively and societally would be assigned her. As soon as she is introduced, though, she immediately breaks the expectation of the demure and subjective nature that often suffocates Japanese women in film by demanding for Philip’s compliance to the job he has accepted and criticizing the men in her circles with passion and confidence. She carries a depth of emotional range that often is not allowed her demographic and when she enters a room or a scene, she owns it.
Kimura Bun as Kota (Phillip and Aiko’s coworker at “Rental Family”) is second to none in terms of comedic timing and commitment to the bit. Even as a “secondary character” his undeniable charm and warmth provides a much-needed gentleness to the “Rental Family” crew that curbs the severity of the work and the actors providing it.
Takehiro Hira commands both the attention of the audiences and their hearts with his dedication to the craft, both as an actor and as the figurative ringleader of this whole circus. Every time he enters the screen, the audience is left wondering what is real and what is all part of the act; neither more convincing than the other.
There are absolutely no parts of this production— actor, character, direction, or otherwise—that do not serve the film justice and wholly envelope the audience in their fictional world. Hikari and Blahut’s dialogue and storytelling are grounded in reality in not only multiple languages, but also in vastly different cultural presentations. Even the 風俗者 (fūzoku-sha/ vaguely translated as “sexworker”) character, Lola (Tamae Ando), who shows up thrice during the film is not played for laughs, but is treated with narrative respect. Every character is fleshed out and every scene has a purpose. In terms of world building and portrayal, there is very little to find fault in.
In terms of real world relevance, “Rental Family” also graciously depicts much of Japanese social culture’s beauties in one shot, while honestly confronting its less talked about issues in the next, namely social isolation and strict adherence to tradition without grace for modern social norms. Throughout the film, many nods to current social issues in Japan are mentioned: lack of queer acceptance, 引きこもり/hikikomori, elderly loneliness, and women’s value in parenting/society.
There are sweeping moments of crisp cinematography captured by Takurō Ishizaka that highlight the natural beauty of Japan’s countryside and cityscapes while also allowing the subversive darkness of the isolationism Japan as a whole has committed to for millennia eke through to the audience. The fictional firm of “Rental Family” could not be born except to a world that needed it and for as wholesome as the film truly is, there is no denying that the theme of its intention is social connection and the very real need for community, no matter where or who from.
There are several lines of plot that might not cut the mustard of reality’s constraints– namely the real legal ramifications of actively committing fraud for a school entrance interview or even kidnapping (I promise, no spoilers!). The only reason this film is 4.5 instead of 5 is because of the sheer fantastical eye it casts upon how real this narrative could be. It plants itself in a world of reality and truth to the human condition in Japan, but sometimes lets the far-stretched ideas of western romanticism take reins of the narrative to somewhat of a jarring extent. However, for a wholesome film that allows one to suspend disbelief for a moment, it is the most enjoyable watch.
From showcasing a realistic look at Japanese culture and daily life to shedding light on the gaijin’s role in Japanese society, Rental Family showcases what each can learn from the other to build a more cohesive community. Rental Family is the pinnacle of “fake it ‘til you make it” and it’s just the kind of storytelling that we should have more of.
If you are searching for a title to show for AAIP Month film club discussion or a piece to help students of the Japanese language practice their comprehension/learning/culture skills, Rental Family is an easy first pick. 4.5/5 Stars; wholly recommend.
What library audiences is Rental Family for?
“Rental Family” is for everyone, but Hapa / Hafu (ハーフ) individuals and Immigrants will certainly get the most out of it personally. Teachers with immigrant or mixed students (especially ハーフ) and individuals with mixed families or mixed children will also feel a sense of being seen through the deft storytelling. But most of all, this film is for those who feel as if they are straddling two separate cultures and are not truly able to find their place in either.
Why should public libraries add this film to their shelves?
Not only does it provide an excellent framework for students of the Japanese (and English) languages to practice their comprehension, listening, and cultural awareness skills, it is also a notable piece of Japanese-American culture. Every community has students, children, and adults who feel out of sorts and like they are fish devoid of water. Having this for access to them is a community service that reminds our neighbors that no matter how lonely and out of place they feel, community is always there for the building.
Is this feature a good fit for campus or community screenings?
Without a doubt. Not only is it inclusive enough to include the experience of many different facets of community, it also provides storytelling that is accessible to a range of rages. Although the elderly community member and the child with their accompanying parents may be watching entirely different stories while viewing “Rental Family”, there is no doubt that it will be meaningful, no matter what demographic you belong to.
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