Jiro Dreams of Sushi

Jiro Dreams of Sushi, a 2011 film by David Gelb, is a fascinating documentary that is, on its surface, about a sushi chef, but in deeper levels says a lot about fathers and sons, the definition of success, and the role of work in Japanese culture. After viewing it, it's hard to know what to feel about Jiro--you will either admire him, feel sorry for him, or both.

At 85 when the film was made, Jiro's restaurant is acknowledged as the best in Tokyo, by far. He received the highest rating from the Michelin Guide, which indicates that a trip to Japan just to visit the place is worth it. He has been at it for 75 years, starting work as a boy, and never ceasing to try to improve himself, with perfection the never-reachable goal. As the title states, sushi occupies him even while he sleeps.

But something is missing from the man. He says that finding a job you love and then becoming great at it is what success is. I can't argue with that, but it seems to me there has to be something else. It's painfully obvious that Jiro, who only takes national holidays off (perhaps because it's the law) has never read a book, gone to a ball game or movie, or taken a nature hike. His entire focus is on the preparation of food.

This extends to his family. He has two sons, both of whom were dissuaded from college and went to work for him. His second son has a mirror-image restaurant (Jiro is left-handed, the son right). The elder son, who is fifty, still works for his father. He is asked if he is jealous of his younger brother operating his own place, and replies that in Japanese culture it is expected that the eldest son succeeds the father. But he doesn't really answer the question. Jiro laughs when he recalls that he was never around during their boyhoods, up at 5 and back at 10.

Many customers are intimidated by eating at his place. There are only ten seats, and it's a counter, so he gives you the food and watches while you eat. There's really no room for conversation, and people are usually out in 15 minutes. But, as a food writer says, he's never had a bad experience there, and Jiro's courses are like music, with three movements. There is nothing on the menu but sushi.

I'm not sure I would want to eat in that situation, but the film is certainly rhapsodic about the food. I've only eaten sushi that I'm sure would horrify Jiro--shrink-wrapped and sold in supermarkets. But he is a fascinating study, a focused workaholic with no interior life that doesn't involve sushi. As a hedonist who would quit work in a second if I could, I'm alternately awed and appalled by people like him.