- The first item isn't, strictly speaking, a random bit of California (I was somewhere over the Pacific when I experienced it), but can there be any doubt that Hirokazu Kore'eda is the best Japanese director, and one of the best directors period, now working? I never watch movies on airplanes, but I made an exception when I saw, to my delight, that Kore'eda's latest, Aruite mo, Aruite mo, (AKA Still Walking) was offered as one of the "seat-back" selections. I've liked everything I've seen by Kore'eda, especially Maboroshi, but Aruite is, I believe, his masterpiece to date. Working in the tradition of Ozu, he gives us a day and a night in which a family gather on the Miura Hanto, and through their conversations—and often we overhear one conversation while the camera suggests we should be focusing on a different dialogue—we learn that the clan is riven by all the tensions that any of you out there who grew up in a family—one which includes, for example, a new wife, a slacker brother, a grasping daughter, a grumpy grandfather—will recognize. And in the best Ozu tradition, the best humanist tradition, we see that all the characters are capable, in various combinations, of selfishness, pettiness, and meanness, but that even as this is the case they are not evil. They are human. Get on a plane—or better, track down a theater that's showing it—and see this film today.
- Though I was born and raised in Southern California, I've always preferred the Northern half of the state. This trip—we've spent time in Point Reyes, Mendocino, and Sonoma—has only confirmed that impression. One aspect that confirms me,
a gluttonan epicure, in my affection for the region is the quality of the food that one gets, as a matter of course, in Marin, Sonoma, and Mendocino Counties. Locally sourced products are not the exception, but the rule, as is organic produce and quality meats. Indeed the best meal I've had—and, not coincidentally, one of the simplest—was a New York steak I feasted on at the Station House Cafe in Point Reyes Station. The meat was from Niman Ranch, and was lightly seasoned with just salt and pepper and grilled to a perfect medium-rare. Along with a couple of Lagunitas IPAs (the beers are local too) and preceded by a salad of vegetables exquisitely fresh, it made a perfect meal. Unfortunately a meal we had at another restaurant was not perfect—and given the price and the hype it should have been. - Some time ago I read a review in the Financial Times in which Nicholas Lander asserted that Quince is better than The French Laundry. As the best meal I've ever had in my life—by far—was at The French Laundry I was skeptical, but also intrigued enough to drag myself out of my bed at 2:00 AM to make the very difficult to get reservation exactly two months in advance. Readers, it was a dissapointment. Not that any of the dishes they brought out as part of the tasting menu we ordered were bad—none of them were. It's just that none of them were great, and from a restaurant as superb as Quince is reputed to be one expects no less than greatness. There was too much sameness between the dishes—too much butter and too much truffle oil (and I say this as someone who loves both of those things). The chef also would appear to have a heavy hand with the salt-shaker. And like most restaurants in the States (but one would have expected a restaurant such as Quince to be an exception) they have no understanding of tea at all: the only black tea they offer is Keemun, a tea which is probably not the best choice to have with desert. Worse, they had not rinsed their tea utensils thoroughly. This is a lapse one can get away with with strong tasting beverages such as coffee, but not with more delicate libations. I haven't been to The French Laundry in years. Maybe they've gone downhill, but somehow I doubt it. The next time I'm in Northern California and in the mood for a splurge that's where I'll be heading.
- I'm reading Robert Graves's I, Claudius
this trip. Graves, I believe, judged it to be hack work that he had to do in order to finance his poetry-writing, but what amazes me reading it seventy or so years after it was written is that a book that in no way condescends to its readers in vocabulary, sentence structure, or thought was as popular as it was. One wonders if a similarly serious historical novel could find a substantial audience today.
- I've interrupted this post three or four times today since I began it this morning (It's 11:00 PM now). so I'll stop here. Thanks for reading if you made it this far.
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Kore-Eda is my favorite director working today; I'm excited to hear
there's a new movie out. Was it subtitled? I wonder when it will be
released in the U.S.--or whether I might be lucky enough to see it (and
have English subtitles) on my flight to Japan in February?
Posted by: Levi Stahl | 09/18/2008 at 04:49 AM
We flew ANA, and they offered the movie with English subtitles. I guess it must have been shown at film festivals outside of Japan, therefore non-Japanese speakers are in luck.
It's a marvelous film.
Enjoy!
Posted by: Only a Blockhead | 09/18/2008 at 03:16 PM
Yes, I read it to the end: I always enjoy your travel posts a lot. Feel free to continue in Random California (2).
--Julian
Posted by: Only a Blockhead | 09/18/2008 at 05:06 PM