Films: Jiro Dreams of Sushi and The Queen of Versailles

 Jiro Dreams of Sushi
Director: David Gelb
Genre: Documentary
Source: USA (2011)
Rating: PG
Location/Format: Netflix Streaming
Grade: A

The Queen of Versailles
Director: Lauren Greenfield
Genre: Documentary
Source: USA (2012)
Rating: PG
Location/Format: Netflix Streaming
Grade: B+

At first glance these two films may seem like a strange pairing, other than the fact that they are both documentaries on Netflix Streaming. That said, I was fascinated watching them one after the other (first Queen, then Jiro) as a way to compare two cultures, two individuals, two families, and two definitions of success. The fact that one film explored the worst excesses of America while the other detailed the Japanese emphasis on simplicity was merely a bonus.

The Queen of Versailles deals with the Siegel family's rise and tottering fall during the economic downturn of the late-Bush/ early-Obama years. David Siegel runs the largest timeshare company in the US, selling dreamy vacations to those who can barely afford it. He and his wife--the fascinating, frustrating, and oddly sympathetic Jacqueline--embark on a project to build the largest house in the United States, modeled on Versailles. And then the bottom drops out of the economy. The shots of that huge, empty, incomplete house will stick with me, as will the casualness with which the Siegels discover how little they know how to care for themselves. They define success in the typical terms of the American dream: cash, and lots of it. The Siegels flood themselves with "stuff"--children, pets, toys clothing--as though the belongings they have will fill the holes they have within. They measure success by swimming pools and walk-in closets, and so when those things begin to disappear, both Jacqueline and David seem to enter a free fall, unable to relate to their new status as the "not-quite-so-wealthy" or to one another. 

As an average-salaried teacher near one of the richer zip codes in the country, I couldn't help but see several people in my life in the Siegels. They could be some of the parents of the students I teach, unable to see that money does not make up for lack of personality, morality, or human decency. They think that money brings respect and power, never realizing that all people respect is the money, not the people behind it.

While at times the film threatens to turn into an episode of The Real Housewives of Southern Florida, Greenfield finds a note of empathy and humanity that that show often lacks. Still, I can't help feeling a little bit of glee to see such shallow people get some comeuppance, and what that pleasure says about me is just as embarrassing and small as anything the Siegels discover about themselves.

Which is what makes the pleasures of Jiro Dreams of Sushi so pleasurable. While Versailles seems to be the quintessence of "American-ness," Jiro gets closer to depicting "Japanese-ness" than any other film I've seen. Expert sushi chef Jiro Ono is, at 85 years old, the owner and operator of one of the best-respected sushi restaurants in Japan. Seating only ten, and charging around $300 per diner, Jiro has made his career on the single-minded pursuit of perfection: crafting the perfect sushi experience as much as possible.

The family dynamics in Jiro are as complicated (and at times frustrating) as anything in Versailles, yet both the protagonist and his career is so much more palatable than American film because of the humility and attentiveness with which Jiro pursues his craft. He pushes himself--and his employees--not for fame or for money (he lives seems to live simply and spend all his time at work) but because he has a singular dedication to excellence. He wants to create an experience for others that is exquisite, and he has dedicated his life to making that happen.

I don't know, maybe it's the beautiful high-definition filming--never has sushi looked so good--but the experience of watching Jiro was just the opposite of Versailles for me: it filled me with happiness, with joy, and with an inner desire to devote more time to my own crafts, such as writing and teaching.

Maybe the divisions between these two films could be drawn back to the cultures that produced them, but both of them provide fascinating looks at individuals who have pursued success to the utmost of their abilities. For Jiro that pursuit is clean, simple, and pleasurable. For Versailles that pursuit is bloated, embarrassing, and vulgar in its excess. But both films cause me to re-examine my own priorities and the way I go after them.