Imagine a world where you can rent a family to fill the void in your life. Sounds bizarre, right? But this is exactly the premise of Rental Family, a heartwarming yet thought-provoking comedy-drama starring Brendan Fraser. Set in Tokyo, the film follows Phillip (Fraser), an actor employed by a unique company that provides stand-in family members for hire. What starts as a job soon evolves into something deeper as Phillip forms genuine connections with his clients, blurring the lines between performance and reality.
And this is the part most people miss: Rental Family isn’t just a quirky concept—it’s a real industry in Japan, with hundreds of companies offering services like faux mourners at funerals or actors playing mistresses for dramatic confrontations. Think of it as The Rehearsal meets Hirokazu Kore-eda’s After Life, but with a Hollywood twist. The film’s tagline, “We sell emotion,” delivered by the company owner Shinji (Takehiro Hira), sums it up perfectly. Phillip, the lone white American on the team, takes on roles like an overseas journalist interviewing a retired actor (Akira Emoto) and a long-lost father to a young girl, Mia (Shannon Gorman), whose mother hopes to secure her spot in an elite school.
But here’s where it gets controversial: Is it ethical to sell emotions? While the film leans into the warmth of human connection, it doesn’t shy away from the moral complexities. Fraser’s performance is a masterclass in vulnerability—his gentle physicality and expressive eyes make Phillip both endearing and self-aware. You can’t help but root for him, even though his job fundamentally involves deception. Director Hikari strikes a delicate balance, acknowledging the potential harm of the agency’s work without diving too deep into the darkness.
As the story progresses, Rental Family leans heavily into sentimentality, occasionally bordering on overly sweet. Fraser’s grounded performance keeps it from becoming cloying, and side stories—like that of Aiko (Mari Yamamoto), who specializes in playing scorned women—add depth to the exploration of this real-life industry. Yet, the film seems hesitant to fully confront the ethical dilemmas it raises. It’s a feel-good movie that prioritizes the light over the dark, much like Fraser’s role in The Whale, where he fearlessly embraced complexity. Here, though, the emotional catalog feels selective, leaving you wondering: could it have gone further?
Here’s a thought-provoking question for you: Is it ever okay to fake emotions, even if it brings temporary happiness? Rental Family doesn’t provide all the answers, but it’s a charming exploration of connection, identity, and the lengths we’ll go to for a sense of belonging. Fraser’s affable presence carries the film, making it a crowd-pleaser that’s as warm as it is intriguing. Just don’t be surprised if you find yourself questioning the authenticity of your own relationships afterward.
