Review of Jiro Dreams of Sushi (2011) by James C — 04 Jan 2014

They say that the definition of insanity is repeating the same thing over and over and expecting things to change. And yet it is this philosophy that has defined the impossible quest for perfection at the heart of David Gelb's fascinating documentary on the world's greatest sushi chef.

Situated in a tiny booth in a Tokyo subway station that seats barely a dozen customers, 85 year old Sushi Jedi Jiro Ono has, for the past seventy years, attempted to perfect the art of blending raw (and sometimes cooked) seafood and rice to such deliriously obsessive and delicious heights that it has earned him worldwide acclaim and the coveted three Michelin stars, whilst simultaneously charging his clientele at least £200 for the privilege. Initial thoughts may range from, "How much raw fish and rice can you get for £200???" through to, "People are suckers," before perhaps enquiring, "Where's Tokyo???".

Gelb's initial plan was to film a number of sushi chefs from all over the world, but found Jiro Ono's story so fascinating he decided to concentrate solely on him, his troubled upbringing, the virtually insurmountable legacy he has left his sons, the sacrifices he has chosen to make in pursuit of his love of the art of sushi making, and even touching on the plight of the global fishing industry.

'Jiro Dreams of Sushi' could be described as one of the most elegantly made example of food porn; that is, food that is lovingly filmed, commented on and drooled over, and not porn involving food with such classics as 'Butt Pie', or 'Man Vs Foo' (although the sight of a young apprentice massaging an octopus may spark an erotic charge in some). You don't need to be a fan of sushi, food or the Japanese to find this elegantly filmed documentary absorbing, and the clever similarity between how Jiro constructs his menus, and a musical concerto can also be applied to the structure of this documentary.

Gelb provides a hypnotic insight into Japanese culture, its meticulous nature, its dedication to the quest for perfection and the notions of family, although it would have been nice to understand in greater detail some of the processes that make Jiro's food so legendary. You do wonder why the chefs brush the seaweed sheets over hot coals, cook fish over hay and shoot every grain of rice at a picture of Mr Myagi before cooking it (unconfirmed). But perhaps the mystery helps fuel the enigmatic nature of sushi making and the legacy Jiro will leave behind when, as they so eloquently put it, 'the inevitable happens.' His culinary odyssey to constantly strive to improve through routine may be obsessively insane but you can't help but admire the man who is the living embodiment of that old adage 'Practice makes (almost) perfect'.