The plot of Rental Family, directed by Hikari and starring Brendan Fraser, reads almost like science fiction. Out of necessity, Phillip (Fraser), an out-of-work American actor living in Tokyo, takes a job as a rental companion. The position requires him to fill in as whatever the person employing him may need to accomplish a goal in their personal life. Phillip might work as a man crying at a funeral to make the dead seem more significant, or something far more involved, like a best friend, or even a father to a young daughter. But rental companion services aren’t just real, but a considerable industry in Japan, where the first companion service, the Japan Efficiency Corporation, launched in 1991.
[time-brightcove not-tgx=”true”]
Fraser was shocked by the concept when he first read the screenplay, just before the 2023 awards season which would culminate with him winning an Oscar for The Whale. “The notion of it was peculiar,” says Fraser, “but when I read the screenplay, I thought it was wonderful, because of how it provides for people who are bereft of connection. It allows for a surrogacy to fill a void of needs that we humans, whether we admit it or not, have, to feel less lonely and more connected to our loved ones, even if those people are not available to us. Sometimes it’s enough just to have people look you in the eye and know that you exist.” He adds that by Hikari’s count, more than 300 such businesses currently operate in Japan.
The film’s producers, Eddie Vaisman and Julia Lebedev, had a similar initial reaction, but came to understand how such services met a need. “There’s nobody in our lives who isn’t missing someone,” says Lebedev. “We’re coming up on the holidays, and a lot of people struggle with that. I think the sentiment of wanting someone in your life who can listen to you and empathize with you or give you a different perspective feels very universal.”
Read more: The 46 Most Anticipated Movies of Fall 2025
Vaisman recalls a situation from his childhood not too dissimilar from how rental companions function in Japan. “My father passed away when I was 5, and my mom, through the Jewish Federation, signed me up to have a big brother,” he recalls. “This guy was around from when I was 12 ‘til I graduated high school. Once a week, we’d hang out. We’d play baseball, bowling, whatever activity.” It’s not unlike young Mia (Shannon Gorman) in Rental Family, whose mother hires Phillip to act as her father. Though there is a key difference: While Vaisman knew his big brother was a volunteer, Mia has no idea in the film that Phillip isn’t her real father, nor that he is being paid.
Despite growing up in Japan, Hikari (who previously directed episodes of Tokyo Vice and Beef) had never heard of rental companions until her writing partner, Stephen Blahut, came across them while researching and brought them to her attention for the film. Hikari then discovered a vibrant industry that’s been evolving for decades. She interviewed actors who worked as rental companions, as well as business owners, which included older gentlemen specializing in advising younger people and women-led companies that worked exclusively with female clients. Hikari also spoke to people who rented companions through the services, and noticed there was a lot of shame and a lack of willingness to discuss it.
Though rental services are not exclusive to Japan—Hikari notes there are examples of similar services in China, South Korea, and Italy, among others—it is, by some measure, most popular there. “In Japanese culture, there’s a principle called honne and tatemae,” explains Hikari. “Honne is to share your true feelings, while tatemae is a facade. We’re not to show our true emotions or feelings in public to maintain social harmony. Therefore, you just play this role, smiling and pretending everything is OK. A lot of people become depressed, but they don’t quite know how to express what they’re feeling. They also don’t want people to know they’re depressed because they’re so afraid of judgment.”
This principle creates a sort of gateway to unconventional services like rental companions, where people can discreetly share their honne and understand their own feelings in a way that feels comfortable and natural, while maintaining a sense of social harmony. Hikari also notes that in Japanese culture, “it’s not as foreign to want to be something else, because that’s been in our culture for as long as I can remember,” pointing out a widespread love of cosplay.
Fraser spent plenty of time in Japan for the role (the entire film was filmed there). While there, he spoke with many people who chose to make bustling Tokyo, the world’s most populated city, their home. “I met expats and token white guys around Tokyo. There’s definitely a population of those who, for whatever reason—wanderlust, tourism, work, or travel—find themselves posting up in Tokyo to reinvent themselves or participate in a new phase of their life with others who can teach them more about themselves by virtue of their unique culture,” he says.
While most fish-out-of-water stories are keen to highlight the strangeness of the world in which the protagonist has embedded themselves, Rental Family treats the curios of Japanese culture with the utmost respect and a naturalistic approach. And that includes rental companions—though that’s not to say it doesn’t provide an evenhanded view, focusing on some of the pitfalls of the rental operations. “There’s a moment in Rental Family when Mari Yamamoto’s character is trying to explain to Phillip how he’ll never fully understand her culture. She’s not trying to hurt his feelings, but he is a gaijin, a foreigner. The rules and the way things are done in Japan are very specific; it’s a nation of rule followers, and woe to those who break them. For example, they don’t jaywalk in Japan. I never made that mistake, but I’ve heard from expats who learned the hard way.” Fraser didn’t find that rigidity intimidating. “To me, that kind of regulation felt comforting, especially when we’re living in times that feel like a corkscrew through a blender,” he says.
Hikari herself also knows what it’s like to be an outsider. At 17, she went on an exchange to Utah, where she attended Jordan High School. “Even though I didn’t speak a word of English, people just wanted to be my friends, and remain my good friends today,” she recalls. That kindness I received throughout the year stuck with me, and I learned that even though I looked different and spoke differently, people really embraced me.” It also gave her the impetus to create Rental Family. “I wanted to flip that idea and take it into Japan. What would it look like if we had a token white guy placed in Tokyo?” she says.
Hikari’s most surprising discovery in her research for Rental Family ended up informing an essential part of the film’s narrative. Just like how Phillip finds those he’s rented by as vital as they find him, so too do the real rental companions. “There’s a community of people who played the family role for their clients. And this fake family, for these actors, is becoming a second family for them,” Hikari says. “A lot of people come to Tokyo to pursue acting, and they do these jobs for the love of acting, but loneliness comes with it. There’s a fascinating dynamic where the actors are healing the clients; these actors are also being healed by being able to help them.”
What struck Fraser more than anything in his experience making Rental Family was how humane it feels. It’s a showcase of loneliness, sure, but more than that, it posits that even at our loneliest, we can find companionship and purpose in the most unexpected places. “It’s bittersweet and poignant in all the best ways,” he says. Fraser tenderly explains Rental Family as “a love letter to Tokyo, and it’s addressed to loneliness everywhere. It’s written in Cherry Blossom pink ink with a fountain pen, and sealed with a kiss.”
The post The Real Inspiration Behind Rental Family and the Actors Who Play Roles in People’s Lives appeared first on TIME.
