Jiro Dreams of Sushi (2011) - directed by David Gelb











i loved this documentary. it reminded of the vast difference between the privileges we (as a collective youth) receive nowadays, unasked for, and that of those born more than half a century before us. it is astounding the kind of individuals the difference has shaped.

 it is more than just a film about sushi -- it is about the work ethic of an 85 year old japanese man, while hardened by childhood hardships, has maintained an outlook on life and on his work that i can only describe as wise aloofness. when he visits his parents tombstones in the cemetery, he says with a genuine laugh: 'i don't know why i come here. they never took care of me.' he exudes a self-dependency even at 85, a quality ripened through years of striving.

his work is essentially his life. for 75 years he has done the same job, and it is surprising -- the monotony of it is an appeal to him. everyday he does the same thing but constantly strives to improve his 'craft', that of improving the taken-for-granted sushi. his passion and self-discipline is passed on to his two younger sons, who, in true asian fashion, have similarly become respected and notable sushi chefs.

but beyond that, there is a touching, almost sad family dynamic that surfaces. a father eager to leave his legacy in the living hands of his sons, two sons burdened with the fame and skill of their father's shadow, but a beautiful, moving understanding between the three that there is something bigger at hand than themselves. as asians we are taught never to complain, to listen to your elders, obey your parents. on one hand that can be seen as passivity, lack of backbone, weakness. but in the documentary, it is done not out of fear, or social protocol, but out of love, a fierceness to protect, an understanding of a legacy, such that the self becomes unimportant. the family becomes everything. i think the most grand touch is that in a family of three grown men, this dynamic is subtle, not apparent. in a way you end the film knowing all this without any of it having ever really explained itself.

his son, yoshikazu, ends the documentary with these words:

Always look ahead and above yourself... that's what he taught me. 

in this day and age where the self has become the primary unit of attention, i me mine, all the time, i loved this documentary for its reminder that there are bigger things than making yourself happy. i think that is what i am beginning to realize. happiness comes later, naturally