In a subway station in Tokyo you will find a tiny, windowless, sushi restaurant called Sukiyabashi Jiro. If you are lucky enough to get a reservation, you will pay upwards of $300 for a meal of fish and rice—the restaurant serves no appetizers; no miso soup, no salty bowls of edamame. The ten seats are booked months in advance. Foodies come from all over the world. Because this unprepossessing little underground establishment is one of the only sushi restaurants in the world to have garnered a 3-star (highest) rating from Michelin. After watching David Gelb’s delightful new documentary, Jiro Dreams of Sushi, you’ll fantasize about booking a ticket to Tokyo.
At the heart of this vivid, charming film is Jiro Ono, the 85-year-old sushi chef and owner of Sukiyabashi Jiro, widely considered to be one of the most accomplished sushi chefs in the world. Sometimes stern–customers confess to being nervous to eat in front of him, and there’s no place else you can eat in the minuscule restaurant—Jiro is an absolute perfectionist who admits to being, still, “in love” with his work. After watching him expertly craft his jewel-like pieces of sushi–slicing the fish, swiftly but lovingly working the rice between his fingers, gently applying the wasabi, brushing on soy sauce, delicately placing the finished morsel in front of a customer where it settles like a sigh–you may well fall in love with it too. Never has a task so seemingly simple and repetitive—almost mundane—looked so elegant, so glorious. Jiro Dreams of Sushi has a classic hero at its center; a single minded obsessive who literally won’t give up (Jiro, in the film, scoffs at retirement). Doing him beautiful justice, director Gelb (who also shot the film—gorgeously) presents Jiro and his work with a loving, sensuous gaze. This is foodie porn, no doubt about it. And if you leave the theater without craving a piece of maguro you’re either a vegan or soulless.
Jiro Dreams of Sushi is a detailed portrait of the craft of sushi—from the fish market to mouth—but there’s more here than “behind the curtain at the sushi bar”. It also examines what it means to be great at something, while continually striving to be even better. Ultimately, Jiro isn’t just someone who makes incredible food, but a man whose wisdom and mentoring are as valuable as a perfect piece of tuna.
There is a family portrait here too—and it’s a fascinating one. The father of two sons, Jiro trained them both to be sushi chefs. The younger son now runs his own restaurant, while Jiro’s eldest son, Yashikazu, works for his father and is expected to eventually take his place. At 50, Yashikazu at first seems a rather beaten man, living in the shadow of his imposing, renowned father, but the film gently reveals the layers that comprise the complex relationships and expectations within this very particular family. What emerges is both surprising and surprisingly winning.
A Jiro meal is described in the film as resembling a symphony and Gelb lushly scores the film with music from Bach to Glass. Further enriched by Gelb’s attention to detail and clear love of the food—and his subjects—Jiro Dreams of Sushi is a film both simple and sumptuous—just like the best sushi.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hbV6knbeUFE
Photo Credit: Magnolia Pictures
