Rental Family review: Brendan Fraser wears his heart on his sleeve
‘Rental Family’ is one of the year’s standout feel-good films as an American finally stops feeling like an outsider in his new home.
While some people believe there’s been a rise in mental health concerns, it’s more likely there’s just been an increase in people seeking help. There is now less shame attached to acknowledging an issue and more avenues to find support. However, not all cultures adopt the same levels of acceptance when it comes to mental health. This causes some people to suffer quietly or look for alternative solutions to cope. The latter is the catalyst for the company featured in Rental Family.
Phillip (Brendan Fraser) is an out-of-work, American actor living in Japan. His career is primarily past-tense until he gets a job playing “Sad American” at a funeral. Shinji (Takehiro Hira) operates Rental Family, a company that provides surrogates to help clients deal with a variety of situations. People hire him and his staff to play roles, and he offers Phillip a full-time job filling the niche position of white man that speaks Japanese. The American has difficulty understanding the agency’s demand, but learns to appreciate the integral part they play in their clients’ lives. He befriends a lonely, middle-aged gamer; poses as a journalist interviewing a Japanese film legend; and pretends to be a little girl’s estranged father.
When Shinji explains the company’s purpose, Phillip immediately asks why their clients don’t go to therapy instead. Talking to a professional is so commonplace in Western society, it’s difficult for an outsider — or gaijin — to grasp the stigma that still overshadows mental health concerns in Japan. From this perspective, companies like Rental Family (which exist in real-life) provide a uniquely valuable service as people find creative ways to deal with their issues. They help clients cope with loneliness, fulfill social obligations or deal with grief.
A sex worker notes hers and Phillip’s jobs are similar. The comparison is not unwarranted since she earns money by giving strangers physical connection, while he offers emotional connections. Much like sex work, emotional surrogacy also has its seedier requests. “Apology services” are the agencies most popular and least ethical offering. It requires a woman to play a husband’s mistress so he can pretend to atone to his wife. It’s a hollow job and occasionally a dangerous one since some wives can have strong reactions when confronted.
Japan is such a thoughtful and atypical country. The big American often seems out of place, but Fraser excels in these emotionally layered roles. He wears his heart on his sleeve so earnestly, viewers experience all his feelings in real time. When Phillip says, “Lying is easier than telling the truth,” it’s like he’s verbally expressing the film’s thesis.
The agency employs actors because they have the skills to do the job — it’s just a series of parts. But the real talent is not becoming attached. They’re giving people what they need, but it’s inevitably a two-way street. Outside of work, most of the actors are alone. As a result, it can often feel like the connections they’re making aren’t just for their clients’ benefit.
Half of Phillip’s gigs involve someone creating a ruse for their loved ones and then becoming upset when they buy too much into the lie. The irony is they can’t heal if it doesn’t feel real. Most problems arise when the client’s needs exceed the boundaries of the contract. But how do you tell your pseudo-daughter she can’t have your phone number? Or deny an old man his final, lucid request before he forgets everything all together?
Much of the story is predictable, but the journey is so profound audiences won’t miss being surprised by the narrative — they’ll be too engrossed by the heartfelt performances to notice. The poignant story about compassion and human connection makes the film one of the year’s best feel-good movies.
Director: Hikari
Starring: Brendan Fraser, Takehiro Hira and Mari Yamamoto
