sharky_55 Blink on your daily Japanese commute and you might miss Jiro Ono's Michelin three-star restaurant, Sukiyabashi Jiro. The modest ten- seater is tucked away underground near the Ginza subway station, and as a bumbling out-of-towner demonstrates, it is not so hard to mistake it for any ordinary sushi bar. In fact, with a month-long booking, fifteen minutes and a week's salary or so, you could be in and out of there during your lunch break. Jiro has never compromised his artistic integrity by expanding his trade or accommodating more customers for profit. Everything in his restaurant has its place and role, and like his courses there is no excess (he portions the food so that groups finish their meals at the same time). Director David Gelb talks about the meticulous setting in his commentary; he would move furniture around to accommodate his filming, to compose a better shot, and right on cue, Jiro would hustle over and return the piece to its rightful place. Great artists often immerse themselves so fully into their work that the person behind them disappears, and through biopics and documentaries like Jiro Dreams of Sushi, we are able to glimpse a little of what goes on behind the curtain. Jiro himself might disagree with this objective - he details how it is necessary to devote his entire life to his craft, fall in love with his work, dedicate all his time to mastery of the skill of sushi making. He must have a wife, although it is no coincidence that the film does not show her. Neither is Jiro shot in his home; he loathes holidays, preferring to continue working at the restaurant, and retirement would only bring about boredom. Sushi even invades his dreams, as the title discloses. Here is a man who has not an inkling of a personal life outside his work, and does not seem to be fazed by it. In the few scenes where he is out of the kitchen he almost withers and ages years, muted and made plain outside of his domain. Gelb, doubling also as the film's cinematographer, has taken to care to capture the intricacies of the artistry that goes into preparing Michelin three-star quality sushi. He utilises both slow and fast motion to portray the chefs in their kitchen, as gentle caressers of their ingredients and also efficient, precise workers. He gives us the foodie shots - salmon like glistening gems on smooth lacquer trays - but also understands that food arouses senses other than sight, and includes the sound of sizzles and visualises the steam which reveals how even their rice must be cooked to perfection. When Gelb does indulge in those glossy, magazine-quality shots in shallow-focus, he includes simple titles that present the food as if the screen was a visual menu, and we are about to order. A rhythmic track of drums and ringing bells brings to life the fish market and the chaos surrounding bidding for the best produce. In the kitchen, the soundtrack attempts to elevate the craft of sushi beyond Jiro's modest restaurant - they cook to Bach, to Tchaikovsky, to Philip Glass. But the peculiar thing about Gelb's direction is that he allows Jiro's philosophy to shine through these moments. Hands are wringing octopi in slow motion, water droplets gracefully fly through the air, and the violin croons, but what we hear most of all is Jiro's voice-over, quietly mediating on his life's work, and reaffirming that his goal was never the pursuit of money. The film's view of the artist is simple and unpretentious, a valuable insight in a world increasing dominated by expansion and the dollar value. One particular shot is more telling than any close-up of sushi; Gelb places his camera on the kitchen table as the chefs talk during their lunch break. The fish- eye lens indicates the voyeurism of a surveillance camera, but their conversation is natural, revealing and as far from performance as you can get. See the glee of one apprentice's face as he recounts the tale of finally perfecting an egg dish after two hundred attempts, and his reaction to Jiro's quiet approval. Though Gelb touches briefly on the issue of over-fishing, the past and his son's futures, it is Jiro's story that is at the heart of the film. His ascetic devotion to his craft seeps through every word, and also through generations; his younger son operates his own restaurant nearby (a perfect clone apart from the interior's reversal because he is left handed), while the older, well into his 50s, waits patiently to one day succeed his father. Jiro left his home at a young age, told by his parents to never return a failure, and began selling sushi on the streets of Tokyo. He has never left these roots. Watching the film is like peering through a window into a world with a work ethic most could never fathom. His career is fascinating yet beyond our comprehension. Is this what it is like to find your true calling, is this all there is? How can one be so sure of their life's work? But Jiro makes us sure that this path is etched in stone for him and his successors, and that he has no regrets. He wields his brush like a painter, gently applying shoyu to his dishes, and in Jiro Dreams of Sushi, his work has been immortalised.

madalynmk The documentary Jiro Dreams of Sushi is a love letter from director David Gelb to the art of sushi, and, had moreover, Japan. The film gets its namesake from Jiro Ono, the 86-year-old owner of the Michelin- rated Sukiyabashi Jiro in Tokyo, who has spent his life studying and perfecting his craft. Ono is obsessed with creating better and better sushi, and has trained his sons in the craft. Jiro is not solely about sushi, though; the film provides a beautiful insight into traditional Japanese work ethic and father-son relationship.The film follows Jiro and his sons through the preparation for a night at Sukiyabashi, a painstaking process that includes visits to fishmongers and the proper way to prepare a very specific type of rice. Told mainly by Jiro and his sons, the story is supplemented by food critic Yamamoto and Jiro's former apprentice, Mizutani. These two supply an outside perspective that helps emphasize how extraordinary Jiro is, especially as he cannot see it himself. He is constantly seeking perfection in his craft, something he rarely, if ever, believes he achieves. The interviews are interspersed with beautiful shots of red-violet velveteen tuna, the perfectly choreographed forming of sushi, and delicate preparation of raw octopus. Accompanied by the stunning, minimalist music of composer Phillip Glass, Jiro will by far be one of the most elegant, gorgeous films you will ever see. Director Gelb has himself said that he was inspired by the film Planet Earth, and his commitment to capturing the uncommon beauty of such a common food shows.The story of Jiro Ono is one of extreme self-discipline and commitment to excellence. He is obsessed with creating the best sushi, and refuses to allow himself a rest. The only holidays he takes are those that are required, and even then, he will not allow himself to relax. He will no allow his sons to relax, either, especially his eldest, Yoshikazu, who will take over the restaurant someday. Jiro pushes and critiques Yoshikazu, seemingly hoping to inspire the same passion for sushi. However, Yoshikazu's passion lies in fast cars and planes, and it is only when he is talking about his car that he shows any excitement at all. As is traditional is Japanese families, keeping the family business and reputation alive supersedes any other passions one may have. Especially as a Westerner, it is difficult watching Jiro push his sons so hard, knowing that they would probably not be making sushi if it were up to them. Having grown up in a country that encourages and rewards individualism and autonomy, watching children put their father's passion and legacy before their own desires is a completely foreign concept. I struggle to reconcile my desire for Yoshikazu and Takashi to follow their own dreams, and to respect the traditions of a culture I am not a part of. I am left feeling resigned to my sorrow, wishing for the sons to live the life they each want, but knowing that I am not the one making that decision. Overall, Jiro Dreams of Sushi is a solid documentary. I find myself left with more questions than I started with, but it is worth the watch if only for the beautiful sushi preparation scenes. There is no happy ending for Jiro Ono, but it is a wonderful, intimate capture of the intricacies of humanity.

Dylan Stek "Jiro Dreams of Sushi" is a documentary about Jiro, an 85-year old sushi master, who runs his restaurant in the subways of Tokyo.Jiro is a real shokunin, a craftsman who lives his craft fully. He leaves home at 5AM and comes home at 10PM. In between, his careful attention goes only to making the most rich and tasteful sushi there can be. The documentary is an ode to this dedication. It does not try to approach the subject with an intellectual attitude, but rather shows us the world how it must look from the eyes of the master. The whole movie is accompanied by classical music and half of the movie is comprised of shots of the art. Fish being sliced, octopus being massaged, rice being cooked and the sushi being formed. Of course Jiro's sushi is not only the result of his skill and dedication, as nothing in this world is separable from it's environment. The movie investigates the different artisans Jiro buys his ingredients and why exactly they deliver the most sublime ingredients. THe movie investigates the hard and long path that Jiro's apprentices have to take before they can even form their first sushi. And the movie investigates the paths of Jiro's two sons, both following in his fathers footsteps.If you have appreciation for beauty, dedication and the strive for perfection, watch this documentary.

annuskavdpol Jiro Dreams of Sushi is a movie about a senior citizen who is teaching his one son about sushi in Japan. This movie has a universal theme. It is about love versus money. In a sense it is a very refreshing film to watch. The story does not have much depth to it. In contrast it is a very simple and straight-forward story of triumph and happiness. Perhaps living the simple life is key. Perhaps each and every one of us should look on to life as finding a passion and following it to the end. But what happens when one finds ones passion and loses it again? What happens if an individual does not know what the meaning of their life is and has no one to guide them into understanding it? What happens when the odds are against the individual making it so challenging to reaping any kinds of forward rewards? Is this movie superficial? Did it leave out the trial and tribulations, or was this movie about the exception rather then the rule? Existentialism is a positive and a negative emotion. Existentialism is about risk, which includes a possible success and a possible failure. Jiro Dreams of Sushi did show that the main character could not fail. He needed to succeed no matter how high the cost - and this one factor led the main character to succeed and to reach a level of absolute perfection. This level of perfection made the lead character feel very good about himself. In a sense this is a utopia. A utopia - one of complete balance and harmony with man and his relationship to nature.Written by Annuska Canada