Jiro Dreams of Sushi

This is a movie about food, but it's much deeper in its story and content. I was truly inspired by a man's pursuit of perfection, the dedications of the understudies, the family dynamic between father and son, and the cultural beauty of Japanese crafts. Yes there are shots of "food porn" woven in, but the movie is charming and much deeper than slow-motion food shots (not that I'm complaining, some shots are stunning).

The young director has good command of the camera, and drives the movie through interviews. People in the theater were applauding at the end. I can't wait to get the DVD.

There are no spoilers in this review simply because there is nothing in "Jiro Dreams of Sushi" to spoil. There is no plot as such. It is strictly a portrait of Jiro Ono, the world's greatest sushi-maker. He has no hobbies or interests other than sushi. The only major change in his life in the last 40 years is that he quit smoking. He groomed both his now middle-aged sons (somewhat against their will) to be sushi chefs.

The point of the film seems to be two-fold. The main purpose seems to be to assure Jiro's legions of fans that his elder son Yoshikazu will follow his father's recipes exactingly and will make no changes to the restaurant once Jiro dies. And the secondary purpose is to show the importance of sustainable fishing.

If you're looking for a narrative plot-driven film, you'll be disappointed. But if you are a foodie who likes seeing behind the scenes at a fine restaurant, this is the movie for you. Be warned though: You have to see this in a theater near a sushi restaurant or you'll be disappointed in whatever meal you eat following the film.

Located in a downtown Tokyo subway station, Sukiyabashi Jiro is an inconspicuous subterranean restaurant with just ten counter seats, yet it has the distinction of being the only sushi restaurant with a three-star Michelin rating. David Gelb's meticulously produced 2012 documentary tells the story of Jiro Ono, an octogenarian perfectionist whose constant striving for culinary transcendence has made him legendary among epicureans in the know. He loves his job, as he readily admits upfront, and while a model of stoic diligence and invariable routine, Ono does show his adoration in unexpected ways that manifest themselves through the unassuming pride he takes in his work. He even imagines new sushi creations in his sleep, thus the title. Such an unwavering quest does take its toll on his two sons who must find their way out of his shadow.

His younger son Takashi managed to escape the constant glare of his father by running his own premium sushi restaurant in the Roppongi Hills area of Tokyo, one that doesn't bother to compete with his father's. His older son Yoshikazu, however, bears the burden of the family legacy as the one to carry on his father's standards after he retires. Over fifty and still an apprentice, Yoshikazu patiently waits for his turn at running the flagship restaurant foregoing earlier dreams of becoming a race car driver. Since his father suffered a heart attack at seventy, he has taken over the critical task of getting the best fish possible at the world-renowned Tsukiji fish market. Gelb does a particularly nice job of showing the hurly-burly atmosphere of the pre-dawn tuna auctions and the lives of the men running the tiny stalls selling fresh seafood of all kinds. Perhaps by design, the film is comparatively more opaque in having us understand the genesis of the elder Ono's drive toward perfection.

While one contributing factor was the absence of Ono's father's absence, it is unclear who actually did influence him to become a sushi chef. There is also hardly a mention of the chef's wife, even though there is an extended passage of a reunion with his childhood pals who characterize him as something of a bully. Interviews with former co-workers shed some light onto the chef's stoicism. In fact, one of Japan's better known food critics admits to being intimidated by patronizing Ono's sushi bar due to the master's overwhelming artistry and attention to detail. Toward that end, I would have liked to have seen more scenes focused on the actual preparation of the sushi rather than simply admiring them on the counter once they are finished. Still, this is a unique look into a man who has not gone gentle into the good night in his quest for the perfect piece of sushi.

Jiro is not an easy celebration of sushi - it is certainly not simply stunning shots of food on plates - it is rather a more difficult and even challenging film about the complex nature of obsession, perfection, and the discipline and almost OCD behavior that it takes to become the world's best.

Jiro is acknowledged as the world's best - his restaurant in a pass in an underground station in Tokyo sits 9 people at a time, has to be booked at least a month in advance, and costs the best part of a week's wages. Yet no-one would hesitate - this is, as Michelin recognizes, worth a trip to Japan just to go and eat there.

The film succeeds as it is itself a near perfect reflection of the same ethos - it becomes apparent very quickly that this is not sentimental romantic filming - it chooses to avoid rich color, and in the editing and, in particular, the composition of the shots is singularly well-thought through. Many shots are based on the golden mean, and placed exactly two-thirds to the right of frame - and there is throughout a sense of real thought and balance. The Peter Greenaway-like score add to the general sense of rhythm and balance here.

The documentary itself is particular and peculiar - it is not in itself a documentary that embellishes - it focuses on Jiro, his sons, their suppliers, the apprentices, the produce, and the product - but we always feel that there are more stories untold than told here - Jiro is not, in the main, likable - but he is totally and utterly committed and passionate to the point of coldness about his process - in a way that few are anymore - and in this sense the film is also more an elegy than a eulogy - Jiro's work ethic is gone forever even now - who wants to work 16 hours a day for 75 years anymore?

We are watching the recording of extinction, and it is still beautiful. So we end up with a stark yet beautiful film that both records the passing of greatness and questions it. It is certainly one of the best documentaries of 2012.

When I got the invitation to go to this film, I was extremely hesitant and worried as to what I was going to be viewing. Even to go so far as to accept the impending nap I was about to have.

I was sorely mistaken about getting a nap. From the very beginning the story and life lessons presented were gripping. True respect for the dedication, hard work and absolute presence of mind to clear away all the minutiae that many of us get caught up in to focus on the details that are so very important.

I have actually seen action films with more lulls and uninteresting parts then what I watched in this film. It's a great story.