Sakana, Sakana: Jiro Dreams of Fish Story

I was at the library earlier this month when I decided to check out the Japanese film section for recent additions. I grabbed a stack of promising titles and started sifting through reviews on-line. I eventually narrowed my borrowing list to the manageable number of two: the documentary Jiro Dreams of Sushi and the movie Fish Story. Completely oblivious to the fishy, if superficial connection between the two titles, I checked them out and went for my morning coffee. It was only when I sat down to drink that it occurred to me I had borrowed two DVDs with fish-related titles. Even the coincidence of the names and watching them consecutively does not merit pairing them in the same review though. It was only when a surprising connection between the message of the two films occurred to me that it seemed fitting to look at them together.

Jiro Dreams of Sushi (2011)

Jiro Dreams of Sushi tells the story of a man who with little parental support or formal education turned an unassuming looking restaurant into a three star Michelin establishment. The story itself is simply told, but the point about the results of a one hundred percent dedication to craftsmanship is effectively made nonetheless. Even though a prominent food critic who has dined at Jiro's restaurant for thirty years claims he has never had a bad experience in all that time, it becomes clear that by no means was the restaurant experience static.

Jiro describes a process in which he was constantly reflecting on ways to improve his restaurant, be it by reshaping the menu or perfecting his method for cooking rice. His extraordinary attention to detail is evidenced by such measures as the arrangement of diners at each meal, the order in which the meal is served, and the subtle shift in how an item of food is served the moment he detects a guest is left-handed. By the end of the documentary, one feels that $300 is the only suitable price for a course of thirty twenty sushi items so meticulously prepared.

Father and sons

Another enjoyable aspect of the documentary is the acrimony-free candour in which the subjects of the documentary speak when in the presence of one another. Jiro's oldest son discusses the Prince Charlesian wait he has endured to inherit the family business in front of his father with no visible resentment. The two sons also speak about their competitiveness with an enviable matter of factness which implies a healthy family relationship.

While the documentary is fairly straightforward and largely avoids politics, there is a welcome wake-up call near the end when Jiro's eldest son speaks about the need for ocean conservation and the better management of fish stocks--particularly tuna--using less destructive fishing methods. It is the type of message often dismissed within the fishing industry when delivered by vegetarian Greenpeace types like me, but coming from chefs whose livelihood depends on sea life, one would think it could carry a lot more weight if broadcast widely enough.

Fish Story (2009)

Fish Story has the vibe and the look of a low budget indie film that received just enough funding to convincingly pull off the special effects and location shooting it needed to tell its story effectively.

And what a story it is.

The movie is based on a novel written by Kotaro Isaka (born in my second home of Chiba incidentally), and the entire time watching it I thought, "this story only works because it was first told by a novelist." The movie interweaves and successfully pulls together four story lines set in different time periods from the 1970s to an imaginary present when a comet threatens the destruction of Earth.

Along the way it satirizes cults and Hollywood blockbusters while still telling such heartfelt human stories as a victim of bullying who develops courage in a convincing manner and a punk band being torn apart by its lack of success. It gets all the larger themes right, which just makes the mastery of the smaller details even more of a delight. One of my favourites was a subtle satirical jab at the flaws in the Japanese job application system that requires candidates to submit photos of themselves. This leads a failing publishing company to put their fate in the hands of a man who knows no English to translate a novel into Japanese because he looks hafu, that is, the sometimes controversial term for a person with one Japanese parent and another of international origin. While judging people more by appearances than qualifications can sink a publisher but eventually save the world may leave one wondering whether it is really such a bad thing after all, the intelligence that runs throughout the movie makes it a joy to watch from start to finish.

It doesn't hurt that the theme song of the movie is damned catchy either. Apparently it is a reworked version of The Damned's "New Rose," which just adds another level of intertextual pleasure to a story about a punk band doomed for being just slightly enough ahead of its time to find the audience it deserves for its music.

All told, Fish Story reveals a post-Modernist's command of pop culture and disjointed storytelling blended with elements of magic realism to tell a fundamentally sincere story at its heart.

Jiro, Meet Fish Story

During the instrumental break of the one-off recording of Fish Story, the lead singer breaks character as an angry punk rocker to share a plaintive monologue about whether anyone will ever hear their song or care that it existed. In a movie in which one character criticizes the band by saying that the difference between a professional and an amateur is that the amateur is self-indulgent, the underlying message of the movie is that not all types of self-indulgence are amateurish if one has a vision worth believing in.

It is a message that applies equally to DIY punk rockers and sushi chefs. It is a message that ties the two films together and makes them worth seeing back to back. Jiro stubbornly pursued his craft until public recognition transformed him into an artist. The song "Fish Story" eventually found its audience in the movie. It was a small audience, but an important one, and the band's effort made a real difference in a few people's lives with epic results. In the end, it doesn't matter whether you slice it, play it, write it, or paint it. If you build it, they will come, and that should be all the motivation you need.

Travis Belrose is the author of The Samurai Poet. Learn more here.