This film is about a 10-seat sushi restaurant, which has earned a top-level 3-star Michelin rating. And it's about the 85-year-old master chef, and his two sons.
I tend to write negatively, and I think I may simply be incapable of writing a glowing review, so take my score of 8, and imagine I wrote something 8-ish here.
First, the sushi. Yes, the film does deliver some food porn. The sushi appears to be mainly nigiri (hand-formed, fish on top of rice). The best example of this is when the three phases of Jiro's meals are described. Lots of pretty sushi are presented. But not as much as you'd think. This documentary isn't really about the sushi, so you don't really learn any sushi secrets.
There's also the fish market, and sushi preparation. There are some unpleasant scenes of living creatures becoming food, so be warned. They do briefly discuss the vanishing quantities and varieties of fish, but don't spend much time on that.
Mainly, the film is about Jiro's obsession with sushi. I don't say "improving sushi" because although they try to give you the impression that Jiro is always improving, the few improvements they talk about are: using fresher ingredients rather than refrigerated, massaging the octopus for a longer time, hoarding a particular kind of rice, serving women smaller sizes, and serving left-handed people from the other side of the plate. Those aren't very satisfying improvements to learn about, nor do we learn of the process of improvement.
The film is more about Jiro and his two sons in the sushi business. One works with him, and will inherit his place. The other is already operating a mirror-image shop in a different location. We learn a lot about their working relationships, but not really much at all about the rest of their lives.
As presented in the film, Jiro seems to live a very shallow and small existence, and yet somehow he reproduced twice. How did that even happen? While he seemed to care for his sons, in a fashion, I didn't get a sense he formed any meaningful connections with other people, or even with them, outside of business. Yet, he seems quite happy with it that way. At the same time, he puts so much effort into what is basically a frivolous enterprise.
Is it good business planning, or the result of crazy obsession? Is it even perfectionism, or are we being trolled? Do you need to have the nose of a master chef to appreciate how good the sushi is? Should the rest of us care? We are told cleanliness is one of the five essential characteristics of a master chef, yet the chefs seemed to be touching their itchy, runny noses a lot. I think one chef wiped his nose on his arm. Since all the food is touched by hand immediately before going to someone's mouth, if I saw anyone looking sick, I'd walk out. Do they just talk a good game? I compare it to art that is worth millions of dollars. Of course, no canvas is worth that. People just talk it up, and up it goes, until people realize it's just paint and canvas, and down it comes again.
Despite the omissions and seeming inconsistencies, it is still a moving film. I think viewers will relate to the ideas of craftsmanship, quality, dedication, hard work, and family business, and will enjoy knowing that the real star of the family may not actually be Jiro anymore. Anyhow, this is a guy who remains very successful near the end of his life, and his routine seems to satisfy him thoroughly, leaving the viewer with a smile.
I tend to write negatively, and I think I may simply be incapable of writing a glowing review, so take my score of 8, and imagine I wrote something 8-ish here.
First, the sushi. Yes, the film does deliver some food porn. The sushi appears to be mainly nigiri (hand-formed, fish on top of rice). The best example of this is when the three phases of Jiro's meals are described. Lots of pretty sushi are presented. But not as much as you'd think. This documentary isn't really about the sushi, so you don't really learn any sushi secrets.
There's also the fish market, and sushi preparation. There are some unpleasant scenes of living creatures becoming food, so be warned. They do briefly discuss the vanishing quantities and varieties of fish, but don't spend much time on that.
Mainly, the film is about Jiro's obsession with sushi. I don't say "improving sushi" because although they try to give you the impression that Jiro is always improving, the few improvements they talk about are: using fresher ingredients rather than refrigerated, massaging the octopus for a longer time, hoarding a particular kind of rice, serving women smaller sizes, and serving left-handed people from the other side of the plate. Those aren't very satisfying improvements to learn about, nor do we learn of the process of improvement.
The film is more about Jiro and his two sons in the sushi business. One works with him, and will inherit his place. The other is already operating a mirror-image shop in a different location. We learn a lot about their working relationships, but not really much at all about the rest of their lives.
As presented in the film, Jiro seems to live a very shallow and small existence, and yet somehow he reproduced twice. How did that even happen? While he seemed to care for his sons, in a fashion, I didn't get a sense he formed any meaningful connections with other people, or even with them, outside of business. Yet, he seems quite happy with it that way. At the same time, he puts so much effort into what is basically a frivolous enterprise.
Is it good business planning, or the result of crazy obsession? Is it even perfectionism, or are we being trolled? Do you need to have the nose of a master chef to appreciate how good the sushi is? Should the rest of us care? We are told cleanliness is one of the five essential characteristics of a master chef, yet the chefs seemed to be touching their itchy, runny noses a lot. I think one chef wiped his nose on his arm. Since all the food is touched by hand immediately before going to someone's mouth, if I saw anyone looking sick, I'd walk out. Do they just talk a good game? I compare it to art that is worth millions of dollars. Of course, no canvas is worth that. People just talk it up, and up it goes, until people realize it's just paint and canvas, and down it comes again.
Despite the omissions and seeming inconsistencies, it is still a moving film. I think viewers will relate to the ideas of craftsmanship, quality, dedication, hard work, and family business, and will enjoy knowing that the real star of the family may not actually be Jiro anymore. Anyhow, this is a guy who remains very successful near the end of his life, and his routine seems to satisfy him thoroughly, leaving the viewer with a smile.