[ssba]
tokyo fish story
Reviewed by Bob Verini
South Coast Repertory
Through March 29
Admirers of the 2011 documentary “Jiro Dreams of Sushi” should settle in comfortably for Kimber Lee’s tokyo fish story.
I have no way of knowing how influenced Lee was by David Gelb’s award-winning portrait of aged sushi master Jiro Ono, or indeed whether she’s seen it at all. But certainly both touch many of the same bases. The two projects share intense admiration, as well as a certain apprehension, for the skilled practitioner of an ancient art who is approaching life’s end. Both also sympathetically consider the ambitions of a younger disciple who must carry out his normal routine while chafing to find out when if ever it’ll be his time, and remaining doubtful that he’ll be able to equal the teacher at all. (Not a situation unique to Japanese cookery. Anyone reminded of Britain’s Prince Charles?)
The situation in and around Sushi Koji – the careworn but apparently well-esteemed eatery run by the legendary Koji (dignified and believable Sab Shimono) – is even more complicated than the daily doings around the documentary’s real-life restaurant (which operates out of a grimy subway station). Not only does Koji have to cope with his own aches and pains, and the passing away of old friends in the business, but he’s beset everywhere by the New: from the difficulty of finding dedicated youthful help, to the competition posed by a sushi chain pulling away his customers by serving appetizers and a dessert. “I do not serve Happy Meals!” he roars to second-in-command Takashi (Ryun Yu, sturdy and focused), and to be sure, the decline in business as well as standards is something that makes none of them happy.
And that’s not all. Where Jiro dreams of sushi, Koji dreams of his dead wife (Jully Lee), who wanders into his mind (and onto the stage) at inopportune moments for the dinner service. Meanwhile Takashi’s frustrations, as he must sublimate his own creativity and style to satisfy his employer, are complicated by challenges to his traditional mindset, such as a lingering prejudice in the trade toward women in the sushi kitchen. (They’re considered to have too-warm hands, evidently.)
The foregoing makes it seem as if there’s a lot going on in the 90 minutes of this South Coast Rep attraction, nurtured at Palo Alto’s TheatreWorks and New York’s Lark Play Development Center. But there is and there isn’t.
The problem with tokyo fish story is that Lee makes it too easy for the audience to get ahead of her. The moment a female applicant (Lee again) walks in for an interview, it’s painfully obvious that she’ll eventually be hired and excel, and so she is, and that proves to be that for the character. A slacker employee (Eddie Mui, who effectively plays a bunch of characters here) gets shown the gate in a way we see coming a mile away. There’s barely a plot development that isn’t telegraphed, or at least lacking in surprise.
When Lee does counter expectations, her work resonates. One can be forgiven, for instance, for figuring that hip-hop obsessed assistant Nobu (Lawrence Kao) has merely been placed there to provide corny millennial humor. And yet he turns out to be limned and acted with sensitivity and grace, a singular player in the clash of generations at the story’s heart.
It’s also a thrill to see the commitment of director Bart DeLorenzo’s cast, dedicated to convincing us that they’re sushi chefs down to the marrow. The tasks, from morning drudgery prep work to the craftsmanship of a new food offering, cannot have been easy to rehearse and master, but the pantomime is believable and spellbinding.
Still, such delights are too infrequent, even over 90 brief minutes. Too much time is devoted to the repetition of Koji’s long, slow bicycle trips up a steep incline to the fish market. (The first time those wheels squeak, it’s captivating; the later ones just feel deadly.) Every entrance of the late Mrs. Koji looks exactly the same, and is equally inexpressive. Again, such conceits – when they lack punctuation and surprise – simply let us get way too far ahead of the action.
In fact, scratch that early comment about fans of Jiro Dreams of Sushi finding this play a pleasure. I’d venture to guess that people who don’t know that movie are actually likely to enjoy tokyo fish story the most, because it’ll have a better chance to take them places they don’t anticipate.
Julianne Argyros Stage at South Coast Repertory, 655 Town Center Dr., Costa Mesa; Tue-Fri, 7:45p.m.; Sat.- Sun., 2 & 7:45 p.m.; through March 29. (714) 708-5555, www.scr.org
