Perfection is an elusive ideal, but in the small confines of a 10-seat sushi restaurant in a basement in Tokyo, it’s a lifelong obsession. Similarly, Jiro Dreams of Sushi is more than just a documentary about sushi and about Sukiyabashi Jiro, chef Jiro Ono’s world-renowned sushi restaurant in the city’s Ginza district — it’s a profound meditation on dedication, craftsmanship, and the relentless pursuit of excellence.
Available to stream on Prime Video, it also gets my vote as one of the best documentaries of all time.
At the heart of the story is Jiro, a man whose name is synonymous with mastery of his craft. The now-99-year-old (and retired) sushi master opened his three-star Michelin restaurant, tucked away in a Tokyo subway station, back in 1965 — and he built it up according to a simple yet ruthless philosophy: “Once you decide on your occupation, you must immerse yourself in your work. You have to fall in love with your work.” Throughout his career, in other words, he didn’t just spend his energy preparing sushi; it was about refining an art form.
The documentary, directed by David Gelb (creator of the Netflix series Chef’s Table), is visually stunning, with slow, deliberate shots of Jiro’s sushi— each piece a delicious combination of texture, color, and precision. And the camera never rushes; it lingers on Jiro’s hands as he carefully presses rice and flecks sauce across the top. Every movement is deliberate, because everything matters. “Even at my age, in my work, I haven’t reached perfection,” Jiro admits. “There’s always a yearning to achieve more.” The documentary even makes the sight of Jiro’s son visiting the local fish market, where he peruses the catch of the day, feel important.
Because it’s the first crucial link in Jiro’s chain of culinary creativity, they always look for the best of the best among what’s available. If they can’t find it? They don’t buy anything that day. Never settle, being the obvious implied commandment.
What makes Jiro Dreams of Sushi so compelling isn’t just the beauty of the food, but the profundity of this simple story. “Jiro’s sushi is a reflection of the seasons, the ingredients, and the skills of the chef,” we’re told at one point in the documentary. And, “the proportion of fish and rice must be just right.” Each day, Jiro tells the camera, “I do the same thing over and over, improving bit by bit … I’ve never once hated this job. I fell in love with my work and gave my life to it.”
You come away from Gelb’s documentary with an appreciation for the Japanese concept of shokunin damashii — the idea that true greatness comes from devoting oneself fully to a craft and to continually striving to refine it. Picking one thing, in other words, and focusing everything you have on doing it well. Likewise, the concept of shoshin, or “beginner’s mind.” Within the context of devotion to one’s craft, shoshin is about having the mindset of a beginner every day — a boundless curiosity, and a lack of preconceptions about basically anything.
Every day is new, and every day you’re starting over. No matter how good you think you are.
Jiro’s eldest son Yoshikazu works tirelessly in his father’s shadow, preparing to take over the restaurant one day but knowing he can never truly escape comparison. “In the world of sushi, my father is a legend,” he says. The documentary reveals the tension between tradition and change, between the pursuit of perfection and the reality of aging.
Beyond sushi, Jiro Dreams of Sushi is a lesson in discipline and passion. Jiro’s life is a testament to the idea that mastery is not a destination but a lifelong journey. “You must dedicate your life to mastering your skill,” Jiro says. “That’s the secret of success, and is the key to being regarded honorably.”
Few documentaries are as hypnotic, inspiring, and deeply human as Jiro Dreams of Sushi. I’ve rewatched it so many times, and I never get tired of it. True mastery of anything, like a craft or even of one’s self, doesn’t come from externalities, like fame. Jiro would tell you that it’s about climbing a mountain that has no summit. There’s no destination; the journey is the point.
