In a captivating blend of humor and drama, Rental Family showcases Brendan Fraser's charm in a story that truly tugs at the heartstrings. The narrative unfolds around Phillip, portrayed by Fraser, who lives in Tokyo and works for a unique company that provides hired actors to play roles as family members for those in need. As Phillip navigates this unusual occupation, he finds himself forging genuine connections with his clients, challenging the very nature of his role.
Imagine if Hirokazu Kore-eda, known for his poignant storytelling, directed a segment of Nathan Fielder’s thought-provoking series The Rehearsal. That’s the essence captured in Rental Family. This film echoes the brilliance of Kore-eda’s After Life, as it follows an acting troupe dedicated to exploring the profound ways people interact through their craft. In Japan, there are numerous businesses like the one depicted in the film, where employees might embody roles ranging from sorrowful attendees at a fake funeral to, more controversially, a mistress facing the ire of an aggrieved spouse.
"We sell emotion," proclaims Shinji, the company’s owner, played by Takehiro Hira. Within this eclectic cast, lonely Phillip stands out as the sole white American, taking on various roles: he’s asked to portray a foreign journalist interviewing retired actor Kikuo Hasegawa, and he also takes on the part of Mia’s distant father, a young girl whose mother is eager to secure her admission into a prestigious school.
Fraser embodies Phillip with a warmth that feels tailor-made for him. His performance reveals a character brimming with openness, ready to express a torrent of emotions through his large, expressive eyes—eyes that have earned accolades at the Academy Awards. His gentle demeanor strikes a balance between playfulness and self-awareness, making Phillip both comforting and vulnerable. This is particularly crucial, considering the inherently deceptive nature of his job.
Director Hikari skillfully navigates the potential emotional turmoil that Phillip's work could instigate. While she doesn’t shy away from showcasing the pain that can arise from these interactions, she also refrains from overly dramatizing it. Viewers can sense Phillip’s moral struggle, particularly when he interacts with the spirited young girl for whom he’s feigning fatherhood. Yet, Fraser’s ability to convey sincerity—a glimmer in his eye or a heartfelt tear—pulls the narrative back to a lighter, more hopeful place. The scenic beauty of Japan and its rich culture serve as a backdrop to the heartfelt relationships that Phillip finds hard to resist forming.
As Phillip's connections grow deeper, Rental Family leans into sentimentality, at times bordering on excessive emotionality. However, Fraser’s grounded performance provides a sturdy anchor for the story. We’re also introduced to subplots involving Phillip’s coworkers, like Aiko, a hired woman dealing with heartbreak, which add layers of complexity and insight into this unique industry. Yet, these narratives are wrapped in a sweet veneer, emphasizing the uplifting aspects of humanity rather than delving too deeply into darker themes. Fraser has previously demonstrated his ability to navigate such dualities, as seen in his performance in The Whale.
Throughout the film, it’s a delight to watch Fraser shift between various roles, though there is room for bolder storytelling choices. When it comes to portraying the sale of emotions, Rental Family seems to offer a rather selective repertoire.
While the film’s execution occasionally struggles to keep pace with its intriguing premise, Brendan Fraser shines as a relatable and charismatic presence in this feel-good exploration of human connection.
What do you think about the concept of hiring actors to fulfill emotional roles? Does it challenge our understanding of authenticity in relationships, or does it provide a compassionate service to those in need? I’d love to hear your thoughts!
