Listen. I am a Brendan Fraser fan. Full stop. The first time I saw him swinging through the trees in 1997’s George of the Jungle, I couldn’t look away. His character as Rick O’Connell in The Mummy easily became my hero. And I am proudly among the handful who still remember him as Mortimer Folchart in 2008’s Inkheart. For a while, he would pop up here and there, though nothing quite carried the spark of those early roles. Then came the winter of 2022.
No one predicted his return to form would come through A24’s The Whale, yet there it was. And what a return it was! Fraser’s performance shook audiences because it reminded us that his talent has never been about showmanship alone. His power has always come from his heart. I’m relieved, and honestly thrilled, to say that Rental Family continues that streak.
Directed by Hikari, with a screenplay by the director and Stephen Blahut, the film stars Brendan Fraser, Takehiro Hira, Mari Yamamoto, Shannon Mahina Gorman, and Akira Emoto. Fraser plays Phillip, an American actor living in Japan, whose biggest claim to fame is a toothpaste commercial from years earlier. Drifting without direction, he’s suddenly offered work at an agency that hires performers to play stand-in roles in the lives of strangers. As Phillip steps into these borrowed worlds, he begins to form bonds that sit somewhere between performance and real connection.
Fraser shines as Phillip, a man caught between the need to work and the discomfort of stepping into worlds that don’t belong to him. His approach to each assignment carries a soft hesitance, the kind that reveals how deeply Phillip longs for meaning yet fears the vulnerability that comes with it. Fraser’s height, his expressive eyes, his gentle way of moving through scenes, none of it is played for laughs. Instead, these traits help bridge the space between him and the people he encounters, drawing us in as we begin to recognize familiar pieces of ourselves in him.
Fraser’s lingering tenderness beams as his character and Emoto’s aging Kikuo sneak away for a spontaneous and meaningful trip. In another scene, he also takes Gorman’s Mia to a fun festival that reveals a genuine sweetness in his earnestness. With such an intimate cast, Fraser’s presence threads through every relationship without overwhelming them, creating a rollercoaster of emotions and giving viewers a first person POV of the true impact his “job” has on them-and on him.
That unique balance comes from the film’s writing and direction. Hikari and Blahut treat their characters with care, asking for small connections rather than grand gestures. Moments feel meaningful without becoming heavy. Intentions are honored. And the quiet spaces between characters carry just as much weight as the dialogue. This is where Hikari’s direction truly blooms.
One sequence shows Phillip sharing an evening drink from his dim apartment. Across the alley, other tenants go through their nighttime routines, unaware of him entirely. The distance is only a few yards, yet the loneliness is unmistakable. Another scene at a temple, where Phillip and Kikuo share a brief conversation about god living in all things, invites us to consider how people and places shape each other. And Mia’s decision to invite a classmate to share her “Dad” during a school visit -a simple gesture- reminds us that kindness never has to come at a cost. Each storyline feels like a snapshot captured by a filmmaker who approaches her world with patience, honesty, and a full heart.
By the time the credits rolled, the film had worked its way under my skin in a way I did not expect. Rental Family never raises its voice, never pushes for grand statements, yet it leaves you sitting with questions that echo long after you leave your seat. It gently suggests that connection is not something we stumble into by accident. It is built through small risks, shared moments, and the courage to let someone see us fully, even when that feels uncomfortable.
Brendan Fraser and this entire cast carry that truth with quiet conviction. Hikari’s direction lets every fragile moment settle before it moves on. In the end, the film reminds us that the roles we play in each other’s lives are rarely as simple as we believe. Sometimes the lines blur. Sometimes the script changes. And sometimes, if we allow it, those unexpected connections become the thing that saves us from our own loneliness. Rental Family reaches for that truth with sincerity, and it lands with a power that lingers.
Rating: 4/5 atoms
Rental Family is currently playing in theaters near you.
