This film Jiro dreams of Sushi models itself on its subject, a legendary sushi chef at Tokyo’s Sukiyabashi Jiro. Both the movie, and Jiro, are methodical, patient, simple, enigmatic and inspiring.
I enjoyed the film primarily as a meditation on work and living a life dedicate to perfecting a skill. Jiro is 85 years old, and has been making sushi for decades. He came to become a chef on his own terms, without support from his family. The film centers on his sushi restaurants, and how they prepare and serve food.
There are tangents into his life and the lives of his two sons (also sushi chefs), which reveal much about their collective approaches to life. It’s a simple film, just as the methods Jiro employs are simple. But in both cases that simplicity allows for great care to be put into every little decision. Sukiyabashi Jiro is one of the few restaurants in the world with a Michelin 3 star rating.
The film helped me ask myself several important questions:
If you like any of these questions, and like sushi or craft, you’ll find the film of interest. It’s a meditative and beautiful film, with many moments without dialog as you watch work being done, providing plenty of space to fill with your own thoughts, and perhaps, your own dreams.
It’s an independent film, and you can find where it’s playing near you here.
American Masters recently released a two part documentary about Woody Allen (available online in U.S.), which I highly recommend if you are interested in learning about the creative process. While I loved his early movies, I didn’t follow the rest of his career closely (although his recent Midnight in Paris was excellent). Regardless, this documentary is an excellent balance of direct commentary from Allen, choice clips from his films and insight from critics, co-workers, family and others.
Here are two gems:
“There are a lot of surprises that happen between writing it, doing it, and seeing it on the screen, most surprises are negative. Most surprises are that you thought something was good, or funny, and it’s not. I’ve made just about 40 films in my life and so few of them have really been worth anything. Because it’s not easy – if it’s easy it wouldn’t be fun, it wouldn’t be valuable.”
“By the time you get the thing together it’s such a mess, and you’re flitting around the editing room making all sorts of compromises, and saying well gee, if I put the last scene first, and the middle scene at the end of the picture, and get a narrator, and use dissolves, and use opticals, and put this in slow motion and use titles here, you’re struggling for survival. And I still screw up a lot of the time. So that’s why I’ve often said… the only thing standing between greatness is me. There is no excuse.”
-Woody Allen, American Masters Documentary
I like Terrence Malick films, but I don’t recommend them for everyone. The Thin Red Line is one of my favorite movies of all time. It’s up there with Fight Club and Memento in the short list of films I’ve seen a dozen times or more. His latest film just came out, called The Tree of Life, staring Brad Pitt.
The problem with his movies for most people, particularly The Thin Red Line and Tree of Life, is they are long, abstract, non-linear and have fuzzy narrative structures that intentionally defy easy comprehension. They are not sitcoms or thrillers: you have to put more of your attention in to get something out. The upside is every moment in his films is beautiful and unusual. He reaches as far as he can with the medium of film to express ideas and feelings hard to capture any other way. If you made it through Koyaanisqatsi, Mallick is easy to watch, as there is comparatively lots of narrative – but most people don’t make it all the way through Koyaanisqatsi. In fact in the matinée showing I saw of Tree of Life, one couple got up and left half-way through.
Actual review starts here: The main story is about a boy growing up in Texas (played as an adult by Sean Penn) in the 1950s, with an overbearing father and a loving, but submissive mother, and how they deal with joy and crisis in their lives. Like 2001: a Space Odyssey, there are many scenes wrapped around this story that are abstract, and about the nature of life and the history of the universe. The movie wanders in and out of the main story in epic, but sometimes disorienting fashion. Many epic themes: fathers, mothers, doors, trees (no surprise), love, hate, birth and death. The mystery of grace, a theme of the Thin Red Line as well, is central here as well.
And there’s something about how he films people that feels like memory. The camera moves in unusual, but not distracting, over-the shoulder ways. His colors and textures magically feel more like my own memories of childhood, warm and slightly worn out, rather than the perfectly sharp and clean feeling most films have.
Every negative review I’ve read of the movie is accurate. Mallick could use a sense of humor. His vision is overbearing and relentless. But so are the positive ones: he makes art unlike what you will find from Hollywood. He offers a different kind of uplifting experience in the theater. Something about his films acts like a seed in the mind, growing in potency after you leave. There were moments in the film I’ve been thinking about again and again since I left, and the stretches where I felt bored have been reduced away. Unlike most movies where the pleasure is only found in the watching, Tree of Life, if you have the patience, pays off in the thinking and feeling for long after you leave the theater.
Trailer below – it’s in limited run in the U.S. – if you’re interested, definitely worth seeing in the theater. You can find a list of theaters where it’s playing by zip code:

There’s something captivating about movies where you don’t know all the rules, but care to stick around to find out. This is why I like some foreign films, the ones that aren’t too weird, in that they grab your attention and mind in ways American films rarely do. They are actual artifacts of drama, instead of exercises in ”guess which cliché will happen next”.
Winter’s bone is about a young woman in Missouri who, to save her family, has to take on many hardships and risks. And at its core as a quest driven narrative it works well. But what makes the movie so engaging is how it captures the sense of a place, and a people. All of the characters feel like a part of the world being filmed (and it turns out, many of them are locals), and there’s a patience to the dialog and the plotting that lets the fears of this world, and the questionable nature of the characters, stand in relief.
It’s not an easy film to watch – but it is a fantastic and heroic film.
Watch on Netflix, imdb listing here.
The Seattle Film Festival theater does cool things – this week they ran a special showing of Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory, in Smell-O-Vision. Yes, Smell-O-vision. Being a historian of invention I knew a fair amount about Smell-O-Vision, and had to check it out.
I wasn’t alone: the line went out the door and the theater was packed.

To my initial disappointment, it turned out that unlike the original Smell-O-Vision, or its arch-rival AromaRama, SIFF didn’t bother to install expensive ventilation systems to pump artificial scents into the theater. Instead they went guerrilla – each person gets a bag of candy and smelly things. This turned out to be exceedingly clever.

The pre-show instructions, delivered by our very own Oompa Lumpa, explained that on-screen prompts would tell us when to smell, eat, chew or open the various objects in our bags. He also told us that “tasting is just smelling with your tongue”.

Here you can see what the on-screen prompts look like. They also showed subtitles for all the lyrics to all the songs in the movie, making it a sing-a-long as well as a smell-a-long.


And it works. When 200 people all start eating chocolate at the same time, the room does smell like chocolate. When everyone eats cherry bubblegum, it smells like cherry. This simple approach to the problem was definitely way more effective than Smell-O-Vision ever was.
A particularly fun moment is when Charlie and GrandPa Joe are in the Fizzy Lifting Drink room – in the theater we were instructed to blow bubbles, and blow we did, filling the the theater with the same bubbles that were on the screen.
The theater was 60% children, which usually means I’m in for a nightmare film experience. But this event was so fun, creative and entertaining, and the grand silliness of the movie, combined with all the activities everyone is supposed to do, made it really fun. I’m a big fan of the film (70s satire at its finest) and this might have been the most fun experience I’ve ever had watching it.
SIFF promises to run it again next year. And they do similiar events with other 70s/80s movies. Labyrinth quote along is next week.
G
ood movies about software are hard to make. That’s why few people try and those who do mostly end up with mediocre films. David Fincher (Fight Club, Curious Case of Benjamin Button) gets at least one thing right in his new film: pace. This movie, for a drama about young adults making software, is smart, quick and unrelenting in its progression. The Social Network is a good, well acted, well scripted drama, which provokes questions about ideas, ownership, ethics and relationships (End of short review).
I didn’t read the book the film is based on, Accidental Billionaires, as the author’s style of dramatization and invention (He also wrote Bringing down the house) has earned him a reputation for stretching the limits of what can be called reporting. Its foolish to expect Hollywood films to have much interest in upholding literal truths.
However I have researched Facebook history in the past, and it’s clear Zuckerberg was not a great guy in his early years (The New Yorker profile suggests Zuckerberg conceeds this). He managed to upset many people he worked with early in his career, being sued by some of his first employers, and his best friend / co-founder of Facebook. The details of the movie are exaggerated as films, by their nature, tend to be, but the spirit seems not far from the Mark (pun!). And it’s the spirit represented that’s the most interesting thing about the film.
Nearly everyone is portrayed as shallow, arrogant, selfish and superficial. Some are morons, others are brilliant, but the tone is youthful confusion over what matters. And this reflects our dilemma over what to make of the worst elements of social media: a playing out of high school cliques, displays of ‘status’ to impress others, and a confusion offer what a friend or authenticity actually are. The movie itself shows ” a social network” with Mark at it’s center – but its a sad, broken and treacherous one.
The film has been criticized for poorly portraying women, which is true, but this misses how the film poorly portrays everyone. Nearly every character is an embarrassment in some significant way, and the movie is largely criticizing the shallowness of elites (Harvard, Silicon valley, lawyers, VCs, the upper class, etc.). The movie is a critique of the kinds of people who would choose to profit from changing the world based on the model of “facebooks” (e.g. yearbooks), relationship status and friending people. The point is: it’s a 19 or 20 year old view of the universe, for better and, as the movie emphasizes, for worse. It’s notable Zuckerberg’s fiancé, with whom he was dating the entire duration of the time shown in the film, isn’t mentioned much less seen. But otherwise it’s hard to find particular bias: I doubt anyone feels great about how they are portrayed in this movie.
I’ve never met Zuckerberg, but his portrayal here is reminiscent of some people I knew in my Computer Science classes at CMU and in the tech sector today: young men who are arrogant, shy, brilliant, awkward, angry, passive-aggressive, misunderstood and possibly vicious.You’ll find a handful of people like this in any CS classroom, or in any tech start-up or IT department. One appeal of computers is they do exactly what you tell them, much unlike people, which tends to attract people with particular abilities and disabilities. Bill Gates psuedo cameo in the film is telling - go watch his deposition video and its clear he and Zuckerberg, as portrayed, have much in common (Of course anyone deposed is bound to be cranky, but still).
And more interesting, Bill Gates, Steve Jobs, Larry Ellision, Andrew Carnegie, Andrew Mellon, Henry Ford and dozens of others of captains of industry weren’t lovable, likable or ethical either early in their careers (if ever), despite how we lionize them later. Films of their early lives would have similarities to The Social Network. Simply put, no one is forced to be a CEO or start a company. Those who do are often fueled by greed, arrogance, pride, insecurity or a need to prove something to someone who probably isn’t even paying attention, a point it’s clear David Fincher intended to make.
But much like the film Wall Street, which aimed to show the tragedy of the power brokers in finance but instead created a hero for a certain group of people, The Social Network, which was clearly designed as a tragedy, will have the same fate. Lots of young people will now see having a business card with “I’m CEO, bitch” as a goal worthy of spending their lives chasing, missing how much personal carnage this psychology created for this particular CEO and everyone around him.
To get out of the 101 degree heat here in Seattle, I decided to take the afternoon off yesterday and go see a film. Only thing playing at the right time was Transformers 2.
I don’t hate Michael Bay, but I rarely like his films since I like movies that make sense. I admit Armageddon was fun, but I can’t say much for the others. Except for The Island which I thought was quite good – probably his best film. If not The Rock. Ok, fine. I guess I do like his films. But if I do, it’s in part because I’ve learned how to prepare for them.
To prepare for Transformers 2, which I did enjoy, here’s what I did:
It was a great way to get out of the heat and see some cool things blow up, including the now standard complement of various monuments and famous buildings. And if the preview for 2012 was any indication, any buildings Bay hasn’t destroyed on film will be taken care of when that film hits the theaters.
The new IAC building in Chelsea (NYC) has one of the world’s largest video screens, and this media professor used it to project the film Run Lola Run, as a sequence of hundreds of stills. The effect is like a real time, moving time-line of the movie.
I hope this professor teaches better than he runs the camera, as his frequent movements annoy, but it’s still worth watching.
Run Lola Run Lola Run Lola Run Lola Run from shiffman on Vimeo.
(Hat tip, kottke.org)
We’ve all had tough projects, but this one might just top them all, and it hits on three of my favorite topics: design, management, and film making. Here’s the rundown:
I’ve both seen the film, and have visited the Hermitage (prompting a 2nd viewing of the film). Understanding Russian history helps make the film more than a stunt, as the story can be hard to follow (It’s an abstract and art-y film, both figuratively and literally as it’s shot in an art museum). But even without it, the film is a visual delight and a project management wonder. If you’re a designer or a manager you’ll be in awe even if you only make it through half the film. Moreso, the DVD includes a making-of featurette that entirely blew my mind: it will put whatever is stressing you out right now into deep relief.
Trailer, netflix listing, and reviews.
This is in two parts: first, a quick and dirty movie review. Second, a short essay on the book, the film (trailer), and the mythology of Chris McCannless.
Movie Review: Recommended. High appeal for anyone interested in self-exploration, nature, the limits of freedom, and the idea of philosophical integrity (do you actually do what you believe in?). It’s based on a true story of a young man who leaves his upper-middle class family behind to adventure in the American West. There is some brilliant storytelling and adventure and the performances are excellent (Emile Hursch is great as Chris). However, the pacing runs into trouble, with long and forced narrative points and occasional over-stylized editing. If if you’re interested in the above themes, you’ll like the film anyway, but if you hate Thoreau and can’t stand nature, then stay away: you’ll be throwing your popcorn at the screen. There is a excellent film in here, but it does sit interspersed with 25 minutes of oddly paced material (I have a similar criticism of the otherwise excellent book) and your tolerance for it will hinge on your interest in the themes.
Essay: (No spoilers here, but what i say might not make sense if you’ve never read the book nor saw the film). I read the book Into the Wild years ago and loved it. After I saw the film last week I was so confused as to what was in the book, and what was created for the movie that I went back and read the book a 2nd time. What I found there surprised me: many of the seemingly cheezy plot points, his relationships with the young girl and the old man, are actually in the book.
The book is philosophically important – I’m prone to rejecting the status quo and share many of the ideals, or at least the questions, that McCandless had. The story stuck with me for years and seeing the film doubled it’s power. I fully admire the guts it took to walk away from everything and start over (giving away all my possessions is something I’d like to do), but at the same time I’m repulsed by the cruelty involved in walking away from his family, and especially his sister. Does independence demand hurting people? Can you be half-way independent, or as McCandless believed, is it an all or nothing proposition? The story has been a forcing function for me, looking back at my decisions to leave places, people and things, to see what damage I caused in the name of ideals.
The film and the book differ on one major perspective: The film lionizes McCandless, something hard to prevent since he’s the main character of the film. Watching him take pleasures from life most wish they could find makes him charismatic despite what he had to sacrifice to get them. But the book is merely sympathetic to the lead in a cautionary tale, and goes out if its way to analyze and dissect his decisions, showing the possibility, in retrospect, of achieving his ideals without sacrificing sanity. And that’s where the story has its power: I feel compelled to re-evaluate the bar on my ideals, and the all too easy habits I’ve developed have for resisting them. McCandless’s story, in whatever form it’s told, can’t help but force people to consider the gap between their behavior and their ideals, since without a penny to his name, he lived, for a time, exactly how he wanted.
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