Makanai

An outstanding work of art that draws you into a world and its characters like nothing else in TV show form that I can remember. It's easily my favourite Koreeda project since Shoplifters, and I strongly suspect the overall experience made me more feel healed and embraced than any other new show I could have watched instead. I saw a lot of familiarities to Hou Hsiao-hsien in his direction here, which I'm not sure means he is more conciously taking inspiration this time, or if my own recent investment in Hou's filmography has made me notice it more.

It is a show that manages to be devoid of sentimentalism, instead refraining from any unbelievable gimmicks or cheap moments of tension in favour of retaining a sincere heart, and exploring its subjects as earnestly as possible. He continues to emphasise believable stakes which may seem uninterestingly small or insignificant on paper, but mean everything in the world of these people who are just trying to find themselves and do what they can to get by. As much as it's easy to label 'mundane nothing', it is only ostensibly so, with layers of deep and thoughtfully constructed emotionality, giving you space to reflect upon seemingly everything should you choose to engage.

You follow a cast of unique, complex and lovable characters that you grow to learn about in the most organic and impactful way. As you watch the last two episodes, what you've taken in throughout starts to bubble to the surface of your consciousness - much like the gradual preparation of a distinct and familiar meal.

Koreeda manages to crush your heart in his hands before picking it up and helping put it back together again. He places you in a world of such cultural specificity and unfamiliarity, but ends up making you believe you've been there your whole life. It all reminded me why I love him. His last two films ultimately didn't as much, so this one delivering on every level is a much needed gift I'll always be thankful for.

Overall a wonderful series, offering deep sweetness without sentimentality. It celebrates Japan's restrained aesthetic of beauty - a row of different coloured jars and bottles on a shelf becomes a revelation.

Two 16 year old girls enter a house for the training of geisha (geiko). Sumire (Natsuki Deguchi) displays exquisite sensitivity, captured by close ups of her face. Her friend Kiro (Nana Mori) is a creature of sunlight; dark words and experiences slide off her, unable to get any hold on her personality. When she can't make the grade as a trainee geisha she becomes a dedicated "makanai" cooking for the household. Tsurukoma (Momoko Fukuchi) stood out for me in the supporting cast - one of the young trainees full of liveliness and charm, within the constrained atmosphere of the house.

Early on the show sharply separates geisha from sleaze. The geisha's audience is represented by a handful of middle aged men who know and appreciate the intricate meanings of the performances. The action is mainly in a traditional house and handful of traditional streets, meticulously preserved in modern Japan; we only have faint hints of drunken salarymen or tourists after instant-gratification pics with a geisha.

In taking her geisha training Sumire defies her father's wish that she train to be a doctor. The show celebrates close female bonding and gentle but firm refusal to submit to fathers or lovers. It can also be seen as celebrating Japanese women's physical beauty and delicacy, their role in providing pleasure and entertainment, their deference, and even perhaps the many forms of restriction they face in the Maiko House.

I've been inside the homes of 3 elderly Japanese women (one in Okinawa and two in the U. S.) and they all had that "organized chaos" feel. LoL! Books and knick knacks stacked to the ceiling, yet they knew exactly where to find things. I love the innocence conveyed by Kiyo and Sumire. I enjoyed the details shown when Kiyo was preparing food and how impressed everyone was with her offerings. The most touching part for me was when the man ate Kiyo's rice ball and said she must be emitting something from her hands (for it to taste so good). What a profound compliment. I cried so hard at that part.

A show where nothing happens (if you stick to a narrow-minded view of events on a Hollywood or Bollywood scale) that sucks you in, sinks its hooks into you, and doesn't let go until the end.

Simply beautiful. No fancy plots. No unexpected reveals. No gimmicks. Just an artfully crafted glimpse into the maiko life most people know nothing about. I know I sure didn't.

And they nail the pacing. No extreme highs that like sugar cause you to crash and burn. And no extreme lows that make you dread "uh-oh, what's coming next" whenever a joyous event occurs. The pace stays comfortable, like a warm blanket, and you can relax and marvel at the simplicity yet intricate details throughout this masterpiece.

The acting is so superb to the point you forget they are actresses and actors. And begin to think of them as real-life people living their normal everyday routines.

I've only felt this way with one other show/movie. And that is "From Up on Poppy Hill" by Studio Ghibli. Well worth a binge watch!

This series is refreshingly light-hearted, wholesome and easy to binge watch. The food scenes highlight the intention and artfulness of Japanese cuisine and make me want to try more of it. The intimate shots of Kyoto make it feel like we're there on tour, seeing places we might not get to see if we were mere tourists. Though the dialogue and characters seem so simplistic and giggly throughout the series (something that would normally be a huge turnoff for me), there is something subtle about them and the culture that pulls you in and makes you want to be kinder, less selfish and more grateful for life's simple pleasures. While watching this series, I found myself wanting to elevate my own cooking of my family's meals and to be more appreciative of things I commonly take for granted. It's like the central characters are so exemplary in many respects, that their goodness permeates through the screen and rubs off on you. I also enjoyed learning more about geiko and maiko culture. Unfortunately, I was misled by Memoirs of a Geisha to think that Geisha/Geiko were more like high-end prostitutes but this series made it clear that that was a gross mischaracterization of the role these delicate and respected purveyors of tradition and historical art play in Japanese society. I hope there will be a second season.