Thursday, April 23, 2020

itadakimas


Theres something so deliciously tangible about diving into this Midnight Diner. Your senses have to be ready for the stories that unfold - some seemingly seeping straight from the screen and into your soul. The first glimpses in the montage of this series recalls a Tokyo that had been sleeping in the depths of my mind. Yet I was so enthralled as it carried me through the culturally familiar, glittering visuals of Akihabara, Shibuya, Asakusa, to a name a few. 

The small diner feels like a set from a faraway dream I once had, or maybe I had chanced upon this series before, though not being in the temperament for it, the venture was quickly abandoned and forgotten. But this time round, something clicked (what’s Je ne sais quois in Japanese?) and I found myself embraced in the small stories of their everyday, anchored to some foreign, delectable dishes. I could almost taste the umami, smell the sesame oil and garlic, as I watched it frying and bubbling in various episodes. That tangent ginger scent wafts to mind, hovering in the hazy air of the dimly lit diner, a theatre stage for so many fictional lives.

Perhaps I am just hungry, perhaps I am starved of deep, social connections, but Midnight Diner: Tokyo Stories, is presently just my cup of (green) tea. 

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