Perfect Days

Nothing happens. He wakes, folds his futon, buys a can of coffee, drives to work with Lou Reed on, photographs trees at lunch, reads Faulkner at night. It's the most radical film I've seen about what a good life might actually look like. The last shot, his face, 'Feeling Good' playing, the sun coming up: I felt it in my chest for a week.

“Next time is next time. Now is now.”