Brendan Fraser continues his well-deserved renaissance in Rental Family, delivering a tender, quietly funny performance in director Hikari’s bittersweet exploration of loneliness and connection in modern day Japan. The film doesn’t quite dig as deep as it could into the fascinating concept of rental family services — where actors are hired to fill emotional voids in clients’ lives — but it succeeds as a gently moving character study elevated by Fraser’s disarming charm and warmth.
Fraser plays Phillip Vandarpleog, a washed-up American actor whose only brush with fame came from a Japanese toothpaste commercial years ago. Now stuck in a loop of loneliness, failed auditions and evenings spent observing the happiness of others from his cramped Tokyo apartment, Phillip’s life changes when he’s hired to pose as a mourner at a “living funeral.” What follows is a strange odyssey through Japan’s rent-a-relative industry, where he takes on increasingly intimate roles — from stand-in husband to makeshift father — Philip is caught in a whirlwind of exhiliarating experiences.
As Philip, Fraser is a marvel of awkward empathy. His physical comedy — all lanky limbs and mismatched gestures — contrasts beautifully with his gentle demeanor, which seem permanently on the verge of apology. He delivers an understated performance with the same tender physicality that earned him acclaim in The Whale, but this time with a lighter, more self-effacing touch. Even when the film’s script sidesteps the ethical and cultural complexities of its premise, Fraser’s sincerity keeps the whole thing grounded. .
Takehiro Hira’s sleazy but oddly paternal boss Shinji feels like a character from a darker, more cynical movie. Shannon Gorman’s Mia, a schoolgirl who needs a “father” to impress an admissions board, provides the film’s emotional core. Her billingual performance is hugely impressive. The film gestures toward Japan’s generational divides but ultimately retreats into sentimentality, resolving its conflicts with neatness that borders on convenience.
Hikari’s direction is elegant and empathetic. Beneath its heartwarming surface lie richer questions — about authenticity, identity, and cultural loneliness — that the film glances at but never fully confronts.
In the end, Rental Family is a film about pretending — and how those performances can sometimes become real. It’s a film that is not only funny, but also melancholic and deeply human, even when it plays things safe. Thanks to Fraser’s compassionate presence, it never feels hollow. You may leave wishing it went further, but you’ll leave moved all the same.
