31 Days of Horror: Horror Noire: A History of Black Horror

Thursday Movie Picks: Sundance Favorites

The Quick and Dirties: Fightin' Femmes

Thursday Movie Picks: Movies About Artists

13th

The Quick and Dirties: Feel-Good Docs

The Quick and Dirties: When Netflix Attacks! - Dirty Docs 2

Greatest Movies About Hip-Hop, Part 1: Documentaries

Roger, Me, and Life Itself

Time is Illmatic

The Quick and Dirties: When Netflix Attacks Vol. 2 - Dirty Docs

Atari: Game Over

20 Feet from Stardom

Directed by Morgan Neville.

2013. Rated PG-13, 91 minutes.

Cast:

Darlene Love

Merry Clayton

Lisa Fischer

Tata Vega

Jo Lawry

Judith Hill

Stevvi Alexander

Mick Jagger

Lou Adler

Sheryl Crow

Bette Midler

Bruce Springsteen

Stevie Wonder

To most of us, back-up singers are just instruments to help our favorite artists sound better. We forget that these are living, breathing people with dreams and aspirations. Their hopes often involve moving from the side or rear of the stage to front and center. The reasons they didn't quite make it are varied. 20 Feet from Stardom focuses on a few of these talented individuals.

During they early parts of the movie, we meet a number of ladies who give us a bird's eye view of the American music scene as far back as the 1950s. In sort of a round robin of commentary we hear various stories about how the music industry has changed over the years, including the constantly fluctuating role of the back-up singer. Interspersed throughout are tales of the solo careers that didn't result in iconic status, and some of the reasons why. The most interesting of these is the absolute stranglehold legendary producer Phil Spector had on singer Darlene Love. It's a story that shines new, unflattering light on Spector and some of American pop musics most famous songs. There's also the "not sure why they weren't bigger" careers of Tata Vega and Merry Clayton, along with the more current struggle of Judith Hill. Ms. Hill's star seemed to be shooting upward when her talents were displayed worldwide during the broadcast of Michael Jackson's funeral.

The most intriguing person in all this is Lisa Fischer. She had a hit song or two in the late 80s and seemed on the verge of becoming a bona fide superstar. Instead of continuing down that path, she opted to go on tour withe the Rolling Stones as one of their back-up singers, where she's been since 1989. She's the lead back-up, mind you, but a back-up nonetheless. Why would someone for whom the planets appear to be aligning purposely not take the plunge? It's a fascinating question with fascinating answers. Most of us assume we would leap at the chance for fame and fortune if presented the opportunity to do so. Lisa Fischer is someone who didn't.

My one major issue with 20 Feet from Stardom is that men in the industry are almost totally ignored. To be sure, it is a female dominated profession. However, the boys are all but non-existent in this film. If that's the case in real life, then fine. Even so, that could be addressed. We get a short section on the late great Luther Vandross, who started as a back-up singer for David Bowie before becoming an R&B icon. Other than that, there is a male we often see singing. However, he is only afforded a few words of his own, and nothing is offered about his story.

I'm probably making a bigger deal out of the gender thing than is warranted. The almost absence of men just strikes me as odd. Still, 20 Feet is a fun watch, particularly for music lovers. We get lots of old clips of familiar faces being performed. Among the talking heads, it's not just the ladies tooting their own horns. We get plenty of producers, scholars, and even mega-stars like Mick Jagger, Bruce Springsteen, and Sheryl Crow singing their praises. It breezes by as we remember and sing along to the great music being played. Even if you're too young to know these songs it will be tough to keep from dancing in your seat.

The Act of Killing

Directed by Joshua Oppenheimer.

2012. Not Rated, 115 minutes.

Cast:

Anwar Congo

Herman Koto

Syamsul Arifin

Ibrahim Sinik

Safit Pardede

Adi Zulkadry

Just when I thought I've seen everything, I sat down to watch The Act of Killing. The story of this particular documentary begins way back in 1965. During this time, the Indonesian government was taken over by the military. One of the things they sought to do was rid the country of Communists. No deportations going on here. Anyone even suspected of being a Communist was murdered. By Communist, I mean any person who disagreed with the new regime and/or any Chinese person. Over the next year or so, anywhere from five hundred thousand to one million people were killed.

I was wrong. That's not the beginning of our story, merely the backdrop. The actual beginning is the fact that most of these killings weren't carried out by the military, themselves. Most were done by two closely linked entities, the Pemuda Pancasila, a paramilitary youth organization and various local gangsters who watched and scalped tickets to American movies in their downtime. Anwar Congo is one such gangster/movie buff. that latter trait is the reason why filmmaker Jason Oppenheimer's offer is one he can't refuse. Yes, I slipped in a cinematic gangster joke right there. You kind of have to because this is pretty frightening and depressing stuff.

Oppenheimer doesn't just approach Congo about a documentary. He asked him to make his own movie anyway he wants about the murders he committed. By the way, Anwar never applies a number to how many he's killed, but we gather it's plenty. One person guesses it's about a thousand. With his right hand man Herman and the help of his friends, some of whom were also involved in the atrocities, Congo embarks on his own Hollywood-style production. It is a bizarre film starring himself as the hero and including musical sequences. We get to see a number of reenactments of just how Congo and his cronies went about the business of killing and even hear them philosophize about what they did. Most startlingly, we see them reenact the massacre of an entire village. It's flat out bone-chilling.

Even more horrifying than the events themselves are the attitudes toward what happened. These guys have been lifted up as heroes for butchering men, women, and children, regardless of whether or not there was any solid proof of being Communist. Of course, having proof would not have made it any better. At one point Anwar is warmly welcomed on a TV talk show and tossed softball questions by the host who is fully aware of his past. She actually speak of him and what he has done in glowing terms. The strange dichotomy is that people still fear them, Anwar and his friends, and their capabilities. These capabilities not only include murder, but rape as well. One guy speaks of how much pleasure he got raping teenage girls back in the day. And even now they are still gangsters. We see them blatantly shaking down local shop owners. Herman is inexplicably asked to run for office in one small town and immediately starts verbalizing ways he could use his position to extort more money than he already does.

About halfway through the movie, it becomes evident that Anwar is using the film he is making as a form of self therapy. He speaks of the nightmares that he has from time to time. Eventually, he comes to have serious misgivings about his past actions. He becomes almost human. He traces much of his anguish to a night when he capitated a man, an event he recounts for us in gruesome detail. This is in sharp contrast to his friend and fellow killer Adi Zulkary. Adi is completely cold about the things he's done and rationalizes them by believing he did nothing wrong. His proof is that he's never been punished.

If there is a short coming to The Act of Killing is that it is not concerned with educating the viewer on how this situation came to be back in the 60's or its effect on the world. It certainly had one. As for the how, it's implied the US government was complicit with these killings but it's an angle never pursued. Putting two and two together, we realize it happens during the era when America was actively fighting communism in Vietnam, but not as much as is said here. You may come away feeling you haven't learned much about this slice of history.

On the other hand, it is a movie that seeks to penetrate the hardened heart of its subject. How can anyone commit so many atrocities and remain unaffected? To get the answer our director has Anwar make a movie within the movie. It's an idea ripped from the pages of Shakespeare's Hamlet, as I was reminded while reading through the booklet that accompanies the DVD (written by executive producer Errol Morris). Oppenheimer's goal is similar to that of Hamlet. It is to provoke a telling reaction. As it says in Act 3, Scene 2 of the famous tragedy, "The play's the thing, wherein I'll catch the conscience of the king." Our question is does the director accomplish this mission? If so, to what extent does he succeed? In any event The Act of Killing is a mortifying experience. I literally watched the whole thing in slack-jawed amazement.

Poetry in the Movies Blogathon!: Louder Than a Bomb

As you may know, I've decided to host my very first blogathon. In honor of National Poetry Month, it's all about acknowledging the elegant art getting some overdue credit for being a major contributor to cinematic history. If you would like to participate, please check out my original post on the matter. I'm going to jump in with my first of what will be at least two posts (maybe 3?). No messing around with ancient verse just yet. We're going with a contemporary documentary, Louder Than a Bomb.

Directed by Greg Jacobs and Jon Siskel.

2010. Not Rated, 99 minutes.

Cast:

Kevin Coval

Adam Gottlieb

Nate Marshall

Nova Venerable

Lamar Jorden

James Sloan

Charles Smith

Jesus Lark

She'Kira McKnight

Elizabeth Graf

"Louder Than a Bomb," which takes place in Chicago, is the nation's largest high school poetry slam. For the uninitiated, poetry slams are spoken word poetry competitions. Poets are scored on a scale of one to ten on each poem they perform. Here, we focus on students from four of the nearly fifty competing schools in 2008. Most prominently featured are the kids from Steinmetz Academic Academy. They won the previous year despite it being their first year competing. We spend lots of time with Mr. Sloan, one of their coaches, as well as with students Lamar Jorden, Jesus Lark, She'Kira McKnight, and Charles "Big C" Smith. We get a little time with some others on the team, too. These are the kids that go against the grain. Judging books by their covers, you'd be hard pressed to peg these as poetry buffs. They're the most "urban" group, to use a code word. Yet, these are the defending champs. They are also struggling to get it together for this year's slam.

For the other three schools, our focus is limited to one student each. Adam Gottlieb attends Northside College Prep. He's the kid who loves everyone and everyone loves him. He is the ultimate diplomat, giving shout outs to his competition in his own poetry. Nova Venerable goes to Oak Park and resides at the opposite end of the spectrum. I don't mean that people don't like her. That's not the case. I mean that she's tougher to get close to with her guarded personality that stems from her hard childhood. She writes more as a cathartic exercise and with an underlying anger. She might be in the competition, but she's really purging her soul. Nate Marshall is the happy medium between Adam and Nova. He goes to Whitney Young Magnet School and is known as "the grandfather" of their poetry program. He loves teaching others and has fun with his art. However, he does carry with him the memories of growing up in a rough environment.

With the Steinmetz kids, we go through the trials and tribulations of a team trying to prepare without always having everyone on the same page. Their ups and downs make for an intriguing roller coaster ride. With the others, we delve into their backgrounds, getting to know them more intimately. Adam and his family makes us laugh. Nova's might make us cry. True to form, Nate's does a bit of both. The movie works itself into a fun carousel that stops rotating come competition time. That doesn't mean the ride is over at that point. Directors Greg Jacobs and Jon Siskel do a wonderful job playing up the natural tension of the competition without it feeling forced. By the way, movie buffs will find this interesting. Jon Siskel is the nephew of none other than the late and now legendary movie critic Gene Siskel.

As for the poetry itself, it's a solid mix of funny, personal, and socially relevant pieces. Like lots of spoken word, the majority of what we hear relies heavily on rhythm, rhyme, and passionate delivery. We get that in spades and enjoy listening to it. For me, there are three pieces that stand head and shoulders above the rest. There is the crowd-pleasing ensemble poem "Counting Graves" from Steinmetz. It's a superior piece of performance art, timely and powerful. The other two are both by Nova. Her first, "Apartment on Austin," details her relationship with an often drunk and needy father. The other, "Cody," is named after her younger brother who has special needs. Both are exceptionally well written poems with strength completely independent of the theatrics of her recitations, which there really are none. They just punch you right in the chest and rip your heart out through the hole.

You may or may not be into poetry like I am. Still, the human stories on display reach out and grab the viewer. We become invested in their fates and root for the tens to go up after they've read. We're disappointed when they don't. However, we learn that what the slam organizers repeat numerous times is true. The point is not the points, the point is the poetry.

The Other Dream Team

Directed by Marius Markevicius.

2012. Not Rated, 89 minutes.

Cast:

Arvydas Sabonis

Sarunas Marciulionis

Rimas Kurtinaitis

Jonas Valanciunas

Bill Walton

Chris Mullin

Jim Lampley

Dan Majerle

David Stern

Zydrunas Ilgauskas

At the 1992 Summer Olympics in Barcelona, Spain, basketball was dominated by the U.S. Men's Team. Collectively known as the Dream Team, they were led by such household names as Michael Jordan, Magic Johnson, and Larry Bird. In addition to that trio was a roster full of players headed for the Hall of Fame. What I didn't realize at the time, and I'm not sure how many people did, was that there was another team that much more literally represented the hopes and dreams of their country. That team was from Lithuania. It was a nation that had just wiggled free from beneath the thumb of the Soviet Union. Their independence was so new that just four years earlier, at the prior Olympics, all of the country's athletes played for the Russians. This is the story of how the country gained its freedom and the role basketball played.

Our tale is told through the eyes of the gentlemen who were the stars of both Lithuania's team in '92 and the Soviet team in '88. Two of them, Arvydas Sabonis and Sarunas Marciulionis would go on to play in the NBA, themselves. The others would have lengthy pro careers playing internationally. All of them still make their living within the sport in some capacity. Along with some other talking heads, they relay stories of what it was like living under Soviet rule. They speak of harsh and oppressive conditions. We hear of many Lithuanians being exiled to Siberia, a lot of whom never made it home. Through it all, they found joy in the sport they love. However, even that was tainted by being forced to play for another country.

As rough as it sounds, it's not depressing stuff. Our heroes are able to find humor in their despair. There is much laughter as they recount their trips to America while playing for the Soviets. They tell us how they managed to sneak out of their rooms at night despite being forbidden and closely watched by the Russians. We hear them marvel at the sheer availability of everything and the measures they took to smuggle home such illicit goods as blue jeans and walkmans. For you young'uns, the walkman was the iPod of the 80s. Go ahead, google it and have a laugh.

Things turn serious again when our attention is turned to the country's last days as a Russian annex. They speak of yearning to send a team of their very own to the upcoming Olympics once they were free. However, it was a bankrupt nation. We see the players, Marciulionis in particular since he was already in the NBA by that time, making huge efforts to make this happen. Eventually, we learn how rock legends The Grateful Dead took up their cause. It's all a heartwarming and uplifting documentary. You know what I'm saying: underdogs making good, triumph of the human spirit, and all that cheesiness. Thankfully, it's cheese that works and has plenty of basketball footage mixed in.

MY SCORE: 8/10

Searching for Sugar Man

Directed by Malik Bendjelloul.

2012. Rated PG-13, 86 minutes.

Cast:

Sixto Rodriguez

Stephen "Sugar" Segerman

Steve Rowland

Dennis Coffey

Mike Theodore

Clarence Avant

Jerome Ferretti

Eva Rodriguez

Regan Rodriguez

In the early 1970s, a folk singer by the name of Rodriguez was discovered in a bar in Detroit, Michigan. Everyone who heard him agreed he was putting brilliant poetry to music that was on par, if not greater than Bob Dylan. Despite releasing two highly praised albums, almost no one heard of him. At least in the United States. Fast forward to the mid 1990s and travel to South Africa. There, we find out that over the last few decades Rodriguez has become one of the most iconic and influential music artists in that country's history. Strangely, no one in South Africa knew anything at all about him. They didn't even know if he was still alive. In fact, he was presumed dead since several fantastic tales of his public suicide had become accepted parts of the Rodriguez mythology. Finding it odd there was no concrete information anywhere about such a legendary figure, a few people separately embark on fact finding missions to learn a little about the man they have all come to greatly admire.

During the portions of the documentary filmed in America, we meet the people who discovered Rodriguez and worked with him on his albums. In South Africa, we hear from the people looking for him. Through the stories they tell and the music often playing, Rodriguez quickly becomes an ethereal presence hanging over the film. Full disclosure: since watching this many of the songs keep popping into my head at all times of the day. The combination of hard to believe anecdotes and haunting songs casts a spell that locks us into the mystery. We become completely absorbed in the efforts of these people to separate fact from fiction. We wonder how long they'll keep following paths to nowhere.

Most compelling are the stories of how Rodriguez came to be a legend in South Africa. It's a tale with humble beginnings, to say the least. Learning how the modest seeds blossomed into making him a full-blown music God in their country is fascinating stuff. It also begs the question why didn't he become popular in America? Many try to answer it, but can't come up with a reason that satisfies even themselves. Watching them try to talk their way through it is interesting. The funny part is Rodriguez is so loved in South Africa, they assumed he was gigantic in the States, too. There, he is estimated to have sold millions of records over the years. When asked how many he's sold in the U.S., Clarence Avant, a former record exec who worked closely with Rodriguez, only half-jokingly says "Six." This dichotomy between the two markets at the resulting viewpoints of those markets is startling. Or, I should say the difference between how South Africa viewed him and America not viewing him at all.

In the end, Searching for Sugar Man becomes one of the most unbelievable and inspirational stories you will ever come across. After the mystery dissipates it becomes just plain fun to watch. We can't help but to be swept up by the thing. For people like me who listen intently to lyrics of the songs we hear, it's a great help that there is some harshly beautiful and imaginative poetry here. These are not cliche filled couplets built for mass consumption. This probably explains his lack of success in his native country to some extent. Though hearing it makes it surprising that he didn't develop at least a cult following, here at home. Is he really better than Bob Dylan? I'd say it's arguable on the basis of what little we have from him. Obviously, he pales in comparison when it comes to volume and worldwide impact. Still, he became legendary in another land. Thanks to that, this film was eventually made. Thanks to this movie, I have discovered another great artist for myself.

Blackfish

Directed by Gabriela Cowperthwaite.

2013. Rated PG-13, 83 minutes.

Cast:

John Hargrove

Samantha Berg

Mark Simmons

Kim Ashdown

Dean Gomersall

Carol Ray

John Jett

Jeffrey Ventre

Thomas Tobin

Dave Duffus

I've never been to SeaWorld. It seems like such a happy place in all those commercials. Sure, I know there has been the occasional accident, but that's a hazard of working with killer whales, right? I mean, "killer" is in their name, isn't it? Okay, so watching Blackfish convinces me that this is an ignorant point of view. What the movie attempts to show is how much Sea World itself is culpable for these accidents due to the way the animals are treated. In particular, we focus on a whale named Tilikum, who has been responsible for the deaths of several humans.

The short story is that everything about the way whales are kept runs completely counter to the way they live in their natural habitat. We learn how this breeds frustration and aggression in them. With regards to Tilikum, we get accounts of various incidents from his life which continue to influence his behavior. Expanding the story to include reasons for these things taking place, it becomes a tale of corporate greed. It becomes clear that the whales are viewed merely as product by the powers that be.

What helps the documentary's effectiveness is that a number of our talking heads are people who dealt with the whales first hand. They are former SeaWorld trainers who, in many cases, worked directly with Tilikum. Things they were tasked to do weren't anything they immediately thought of as cruel, especially as young people with no prior experience with whales. In hindsight, they have a greater understanding of things, no longer work for SeaWorld, and are speaking out against them. Other people who appear have studied killer whales and/or worked with them in some capacity for decades.

Predictably, no representatives of SeaWorld agreed to be interviewed. Speaking for them is old court testimony, quotes given to various media outlets over the years, company handbooks, and anything else the filmmakers could get their hands on. We get the distinct impression they are hiding behind their legal team. However, there is one brave soul, on former trainer who still tows the company line. In his mind, or at least his words, SeaWorld has done nothing wrong. Agree or disagree, I must give him credit for having the courage to say so on camera.

Blackfish succeeds on three important fronts. First, it paints SeaWorld as the quintessential sinister organization, doling out misinformation to justify questionable tactics. We become outraged at the goings on behind the scenes. As is often the case, seeing how the sausage is made turns our stomach. Second, the movie educates us about killer whales. It points out many of the flaws in our perception of these creatures. It even humanizes them, to some degree. All of this builds tremendous sympathy for them that becomes very powerful when mixed with our anger at SeaWorld. third, even if the other things aren't life changing for you, at the very least you will never look at one of those commercials the same way ever again.

MY SCORE: 9/10

The Imposter

Directed by Bart Layton.

2012. Rated R, 99 minutes.

Cast:

Frédéric Bourdin

Carey Gibson

Bryan Gibson

Beverly Dollarhide

Nancy Fisher

Phillip French

Adam O’Brian

Anna Ruben

Cathy Dresbach

Ivan Villanueva

Ken Appledorn

Every now and again we see something in life, on television, or on the internet that makes us wonder just how stupid people can be. Other things make us shudder at the thought of the human capacity for being sinister and deceptive. The Imposter is a documentary that does both. It starts with the 1994 disappearance of Nicholas Barclay, a thirteen year old Texan boy. After three years of searching, with no luck, the family has just about lost all hope when they receive a phone call informing them Nicholas has been found. In Spain. Big sis Carey immediately boards a plane to retrieve her now seventeen year old brother. However, she does not yet know what we’ve already learned. The boy she is coming to get is not Nicholas. He is, in fact, a twenty-three-year-old man named  Frédéric Bourdin posing as the lost teenager. He happened upon this identity in a desperate attempt to conceal his own. Logically, he assumes the jig will be up once Carey gets a look at him. After all, judging from a picture he obtained, he looks nothing like Nicholas.

This is where it gets really interesting. When Nicholas shows up to take her brother home, she embraces and accepts this guy as if he actually is her brother. She brings him back to Texas where the entire family, mom included, accepts him as Nicholas. Given the differences between Nicholas and the person they now have, this is beyond baffling. Nicholas was a fair-skinned, blue-eyed, blonde-haired boy. The man they trust is an older version of him is blonde, but because he colors his hair. Aside from this, he has a dark complexion and, most damning, brown eyes. In fact, it appears obvious that he is of a different ethnicity than anyone in the family. If none of that rings alarms, let’s throw in the fact he speaks with a heavy French accent. Still, no one in the family seems wise to the facts. Local officials are suspicious and begin investigating. Things hit the fan when the “new” Nicholas becomes a minor celebrity as news of his harrowing ordeal and miraculous return. He tells a sensational tale of mental and sexual abuse during his time as a captive, at the hands of military men from various nations including the U.S.

The movie proceeds from there while we watch in slack-jawed amazement. The first question is how long can this charade go on before indisputable evidence is uncovered, forcing the family to realize this guy is a fake. We hear several authorities involved in piecing together this puzzle give their recollection of their interactions with and pursuit of Bourdin. There are also lots of interviews with the family and, most interestingly, with Bourdin, himself. Mixed into all of these are some dramatizations of actual events. This stroke of genius helps the movie almost feel like a fiction narrative and is a nice change of pace from all of the talking heads.

The other questions The Imposter raises is where it runs into trouble. Why would Bourdin do such a thing? What really happened to him before he was picked up by the police in Spain while pretending to be a sniveling lost child? The film never dares to approach either one. It does touch on another, but in an unsatisfactory manner. That question is did the family have something to do with Nicholas’ disappearance in the first place. This would give them a motive for going along with the façade. We hear allegations from Bourdin about what he thinks happened. However, he is not exactly trustworthy. A few members of the family refute these claims. No surprise there. There is the private eye who has been snooping around trying to find out what happened to the boy and potentially comes upon an answer. The movie even ends as if he makes some startling discovery. The issue is that what we are told next, just before the credits roll, totally undermines this. In essence, the movie finishes when it feels like it should be shifting into another gear.

What’s here is still a fascinating story. It is the kind of movie that could only be a documentary. Had this been some screenwriter’s concoction, it would be laughed off for being too ridiculous. Think about it. How do you sell a work of fiction in which a teenage boy from Texas with classic All-American looks returns home as a darkly complected Frenchman with different color eyes? I suppose it’s possible as a farce starring Adam Sandler, or Will Ferrell, but certainly not as a serious thriller. This is precisely what makes The Imposter work as well as it does. We simply cannot believe what we are seeing, yet can’t look away. We wait for someone to make sense of it all. Even though that wait is largely in vain, we still have a film that’s hard to shake loose from our heads.

Jiro Dreams of Sushi

Directed by David Gelb.

2011. Rated PG, 81 minutes.

Cast:

Jiro Ono

Yoshikazu Ono

Masuhiro Yamamoto

Takashi Ono

What if I told you one of the best restaurants in the world doesn't serve appetizers desserts, doesn't even let you decide what to eat, what you get only takes fifteen minutes to finish, and only seats ten? Sound preposterous? That’s exactly what we have in Jiro’s, s sushi restaurant in Japan. It’s named after it’s owner, Jiro Ono, a tireless eighty-five year old master chef. He is a master largely because sushi has completely consumed his life. It is the only thing he prepares and serves. It has been that way since World War II. As the title infers, he even dreams of the stuff. He tells us he sometimes wakes in the middle of the night with ideas for new sushi dishes, or how to refine his technique. It has worked tremendously. A highly respected journal published by Michelin, yes the tire company, gave Jiro’s a three star rating, their highest possible score. We’re told this means a restaurant is so good it is worth traveling to whatever country it’s in just to eat there. Apparently, people agree. They come from everywhere to partake in the product of his passion. To get one of those ten seats, you must make reservations at least a month in advance.

Jiro has no plans on retiring, but obviously he can’t go on making sushi forever. One day, his now fifty year old son Yoshikazu will take over. In reality, Yoshikazu already makes sushi as his dad’s second-in-command with no noticeable difference in quality. He also does much of the leg work. He goes to the market to pick out the fish, handles most of the training of their small group of eager apprentices, and oversees much of the preparation that must be done every day. Though we get the sense he would never say it while his father is still breathing, he’s a master in his own right. He is patiently awaiting the day he must take over completely. And I do mean patiently. We never feel like he’s chomping at the bit to put dad out to pasture. In fact, there is a hint of him dreading the inevitable day. This is understandable. Who wants to step directly into the shoes of a legend? Still, this is no point of contention. The bond between the two men is strong. This comes across beautifully as we spend a good chunk of time with Yoshikazu. He shows us all the hard work that goes into their world class sushi. The various types of fish are picked meticulously and prepared for service with near surgical precision. The staff he trains with his father are in class for the long haul. It is a ten year apprenticeship. At the end of this time, former trainees are sent out into the world to open their own restaurant. Yoshikazu himself has been by his dad’s side for over thirty years.

A documentary about a guy who loves sushi doesn't sound like it should be a long one and it isn't. However, I think it short-changes us just a bit. A little more time could be invested in the relationship between Yoshikazu and his brother Takashi. Maybe we could get some testimonies from people who have eaten there, besides the food critic Masuhiro Yamamoto. Certainly, I would like to have met his wife and gotten her two cents. We’re told she’s still alive, but nothing more than that, and she never appears. All of these could have been included with less than ten more minutes of run-time. That said, it’s a fun, lighthearted film about a guy better at one thing than most of us will ever be at anything. This leads to my biggest gripe with the movie. Oddly, this complaint is because of what is perhaps the movie's greatest quality. Throughout, we get gorgeously framed shots of the various types of sushi. We get so many of them, many have described this film as food porn. Here's the problem: I can’t taste it!