Phrasemaker

An overlooked heartwarming slice-of-life comedy-drama, Rental Family, directed by Hikari, is a quietly pleasant experience that sneaks up on you. With its gentle humor and emotional sincerity, the film highlights how small connections make life feel a little less lonely. It leaves you thinking about belonging and the ways people find comfort in one another, regardless of where they come from.

We trail the everyday life of Philip Vanderploeg, played by the charming Brendan Fraser. He has been looking for a solid acting job in Tokyo ever since his success in a Japanese toothpaste commercial seven years earlier.

Taking on side gig after side gig, Philip eventually stumbles upon a Rental Family business, owned by Shinji (Takehiro Hira) where he’s commissioned to take the role of a funeral attendee. This leads to Philip being hired as the company’s “token white guy.”

Ever since Brendan Fraser had a major comeback in film with The Whale, I’ve been highly anticipating his next projects, and Rental Family became a must-see. Even before The Whale, Brendan Fraser had been doing a couple of thrillers and drama movies, so his being in a comedy-drama was something to look forward to, especially knowing how the setting of Rental Family is in Tokyo, Japan.

The movie feels like an anthology as we find Philip entering the lives of different people, playing different characters. Philip has his hesitations seeped into the roles he plays, especially the first of acting as the fiancé of Yoshie (Misato Morita), a queer woman who’s performing a traditional wedding for her parents before she and her wife secretly leave for Canada. This is where he finds the meaning in this work as part of the Rental Family business.

While Shinji often iterates to Philip that his job is just a job and that he shouldn’t get too attached, Philip starts creating these connections in his assignments. From acting as the estranged father of a half-Japanese girl named Mia (Shannon Mahina Gorman), a journalist for the retired actor Kikuo Hasegawa (Akira Emoto), and a friend to a man living alone, Philip takes his job seriously as if he were truly a part of their lives.

It’s surreal to see, yet it still raises moral conflicts that he ponders from time to time, whether he should truly treat his job as one or not. The line between performance and genuine connection begins to blur as simple role-playing for an actor turns into emotional labor, raising questions about authenticity, consent, and whether the comfort built on an illusion can be considered meaningful.

However, the film doesn’t rush to answer these questions, allowing moments of discomfort that follow the lives of Rental Family‘s characters sit alongside its warmth. Truly, this movie is one where you have to “fake it until you make it.” But not without its consequences, which I highly suggest you find out by watching it yourself (as it’s already released for digital on Amazon Prime Video, Apple TV, and Fandango at Home).

Much of Rental Family‘s strength lies in its prolonged restraint. It doesn’t get too melodramatic, spotlighting stillness, awkward pauses, some deadpan humor, and understated exchanges that feel grounded in real human behavior. With Tokyo as his backdrop, Philip’s sense of displacement stands out in the silence that mirrors the emotional distance shared by many of the people he’s hired to stand in for.

That’s what I enjoy about this movie. It doesn’t go through a climactic route that makes you feel that the hero must make a huge life-altering decision to justify his growth. Instead, the movie understands that change can be gradual, uncertain, and just part of life itself. Philip even has a moment that’s supposed to be a dramatic turning point in his story, but the tension of that just simmers, woven seamlessly into his everyday routine, which makes it much more relatable.

Rental Family is a refreshing watch because it trusts quiet moments over spectacle. With Brendan Fraser at its helm, the film finds meaning in the in-between spaces, such as conversations that trail off, gestures that linger, and intimate relationships that go beyond romantic ones. It’s a story that highlights the emotional honesty of simply being present.