I don’t know anything about wine, but since there are so many of them, why not document the ones I’ve drank so I remember if they’re good or not? This one was pretty good. Strong. Maybe a little woody, smoky. Tannic. Other pseudo-vocabulary used to describe wine.
This came out of nowhere, but I like them.
Thought I didn’t own it. Realized I did. #kubrick
These are supreme! Please never stop making them Trader Joe’s. They go too well on my sandwiches.
I can’t help but wear a leather jacket and Ray Bans when I listen to this song.
And now, a night of extended entertainment before I lose power!
I’ve been thinking about this film long enough now that I suppose it warrants a mention. So here I am, in front of the keyboard, typing it for you.
This is a documentary about a man, you guessed it, whose name is Jiro. Jiro Ono is 85, and owns a Michelin 3-star sushi restaurant in Ginza, Tokyo. The restaurant is tiny, accommodating no more than eight or so people at a time, and is located in a Ginza subway station. To eat at Jiro’s restaurant, you must make reservations six months in advance, and be prepared to spend around $400 per person. And after all that, the meal is usually over in 15 minutes.
Jiro has worked his whole life to perfect the art of making sushi. His day usually starts early in the morning, with a visit to the legendary Tsukiji fish market of Japan, and ends with him cleaning up after one or perhaps two dinner services. Wash, rinse, repeat. Jiro does this every day, and has no intention of stopping.
Of course, one day, Jiro will die. So what do you do to make sure your critically acclaimed restaurant will continue to thrive? You enlist your oldest son to start learning how to make sushi, just like you. His oldest son is now 50. He has been under the guidance of Jiro since he was 14.
This film is very simple. It is composed of interviews with Jiro and his chefs, trips to the the market to buy ingredients, and lots of shots of Jiro making sushi. Initially, I thought I would be bored to death. What struck me the most about the story however, what kept my attention, was not really anything that was seen, but what was said.
Jiro is a humble man of principles. He believes in hard work, and life-long dedication. According to Jiro you have to “fall in love with your work. Never complain about your job. You must dedicate your life to mastering your skill.” He works not for the money, but because he is passionate about making sushi. He says he is “always dreaming of new ways to make sushi.” Even at 85.
One line that really caught me off guard was Jiro recounting what his parents said to him as a child. When he was old enough to move out of his parents house, they told him that he “has no home to come back to now,” and that he must make something of himself to survive. Jiro says, “it is not like that in America. In America, parents tell their children that if they fail, they can always return home,” and (generalizing here) suggests that this is why their kids are not successful. There is no consequence for failure, and there is no fear of failure.
It was here, like in every movie that I watch, that I had a moment of self reflection, and finally connected with the film as a viewer. What would my life have been like if I was raised that way? Surely it is harsh, but would it have changed me? If I fail as a filmmaker, do I move back in with my parents? Probably not. But the option is always there! Here in the States, it seems there is always someone to fall back onto. For most of us, anyway.
So, I’m curious. What drove Jiro more? Was it the fear of failure? Or was it his infinite passion for the fish in the sea?
That, among other quotes of 85-year-old Japanese wisdom, really made me think. And I thoroughly enjoy movies that make me think.
Give it a whirl. It’s on iTunes for $5.