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A
David Gelb directed Jiro Dreams of Sushi in the show Chef's Table. And that's what this conversation's all about. It's about the art of making documentaries, telling stories, bringing people to life. Like, he says that whenever you're writing a scene, thinking one up, a character should come into a scene wanting one thing and then leave with something else. And then also, you gotta remember that David spent about as much time with the world's top chefs as anybody on planet Earth. So I had to ask, what are the lessons that you've learned from them? And how have those lessons seeped into your work? You wouldn't believe it, but how costs a fortune to run, and it's thanks to Mercury. But I can even do it. They're the sponsor of this episode and a banking platform that I've been using for the past four years to run my own business. When I started how right I expected finances to be an absolute nightmare. I got team members in four different countries. I had things to think about, like currency exchange and taxes and expenses, and I was just dreading it. But honestly, banking has maybe been the easiest part. I can't remember running into a single problem, and it's because I've been using Mercury. I switched over from other more traditional banks because Mercury is so well designed. It's easy to get started, it's easy to use, while also feeling totally legit and secure. And Mercury gives me all the tools to run a global company, like virtual cards, unlimited users, and the ability to customize each user's access level to exactly what they should see. And you know what? If anything goes wrong, if I have any sort of challenge, I can always talk to their support team, which is super responsive and actually helpful, which is pretty rare these days. And all that is why I can't imagine banking any other way. Mercury is a fintech company, not an FDIC insured bank. Banking services provided by Choice Financial Group and Column A members. Fdic. All right, back to the episode. Tell me about character and how you've chosen to focus on character and bring individual people to life.
B
Well, I think that the process of getting to make Jiro dreams of Sushi was where I learned the lesson about how its character. It's character first. And I think that's true of all good storytelling and good movies or shows, is it's about a character. I started thinking that I was gonna make a movie about a subject about sushi, but then I realized, like, no, I'm actually making a movie about people. We did.
A
There were Gonna be three or four people that you were gonna do originally?
B
Yeah, originally it was gonna be different sushi chefs. And it'd be a lot about the information about how different chefs make sushi and the different styles of sushi. And I. I realized as I was going through the process of making little shorts, like little test shorts, that it was the characters that were the most interesting part of it. And so through the character, that's where the information about sushi that people remember comes out of it. So it isn't like, I'm not gonna go step by step and explain how to make the egg sushi, but I will show you how it took the dude 200 times to do it before he got the approval of the master and how he wept when he finally got it right. And then that is much more kind of memorable and powerful than explaining what it is. So then when you see that egg sushi land on the. On the. On the bar at the end, you're like, wow. Like, I. There's emotion, character emotion infused in that thing. But the heart of it is the origin story. As you know, I love comic books, and I grew up reading comic books. And, you know, every. And I, you know, I did the Stan Lee documentary and, you know, it's all about the origin story. That's where the audience gets hooked, and that's what informs. What is this superhero about? And why is. Why. Why are they doing what they do? And if you go to Spider man, you know, it's this famous quote. It's like, with great power must come great responsibility, right? And so, you know, he's a teenager, you know, and actually, Spider man was the first. It was the first superhero that was like a teenager. You know, Batman's like this, you know, billionaire. You got Superman, you know, alien, who's a reporter. But Spider Man's kind of this nerd who just wants to be cool. You know, he's getting bullied and everything. He gets these powers and he's like, oh, wow. Like, what am I going to use them for? He starts wrestling. That's where the costume comes from. It's like a Lucho Libre style costume. And he's like doing it for himself, you know. And the origin story of Spider man is that he lets this bad guy, you know, this. There's like a burglar or somebody robs something. I can't remember exactly what it is. But Spider man doesn't stop him. He's like, oh, it's someone else's job. And then that guy ends up, you know, killing his uncle. And he realizes that, you know, the power doesn't mean anything unless you're using it with purpose and with responsibility. And so in the case of Jiro, in the case of any of our characters on Chef's Table, in the case of Stanley themselves, I think that the origin story is the key to understanding that character motivation. And then when you care about that and you understand that, then the other mannerisms, what they do and the craft and all these other things start to matter a lot more.
A
And when you think about that story and the character and what you're trying to build, how much of that is planned? I got a sense of what this is going to be, and then how much of it sort of emerges later on. So another example is in the Chef's Table episode about Grant Akis in Chicago. Here you got a chef. What do chefs do? They taste things. Chef loses sense of taste.
B
Yeah.
A
Like, how much of that is. All right, we got our game plan here versus, whoa, this thing happened. Of course, we're going to make that the central through line of the story.
B
Right? So, yes, that was it. In season two, episode one, I believe is granted, that was, like, really beautifully done episode. It was directed by Brian McGinn. And his approach on. I mean, first off, the hook is so clear. Chef loses his sense of taste. What does he do about it? There's also enough written about him that the team is able to research an outline that kind of tells his life story as we know it. But then in the process of Chef's Table, and, you know, all of the directors on the show, whether it's myself or Brian or Clay Jeter, you know, we do very long interviews, and there are other directors, too. Everybody has their own style with the subjects. Yeah, yeah, the long interviews with the subject. And we let. We kind of go through the story as they've told it before, as they like to tell it, and then we ask very probing and personal questions that might reframe the way that they tell the story. And then there are discoveries. We come in prepared with what we think it's about, but there's always room to learn more. And that kind of, like, exploration is. Is key. And that's also why a lot of the chefs say that it's kind of like therapy being on the show, because we're asking them more questions for longer. You know, other food shows come in, you know, for an hour or so, or they have historically come in. You know, they shoot a little bit, and then they kind of move on. In our case, you know, we're there for two weeks. We're building, like, a real relationship and rapport. We're asking these long questions. You were doing these long interviews multiple times, and they. Things just start to kind of open up and they start to kind of make these connections that would not be unlike, I think, being in therapy. Yeah, yeah.
A
So as you think about your style, which with Jiro, you see what emerges, and then you see how that ends up in chef's table. And all this to say, what are the mantras that you find yourself repeating? Like, this is my style. These are the core things that I'm always trying to focus on. The chords I'm always trying to hit.
B
Yeah. So as we just said, it's origin story. It's why do they do what they. It's not just about how they do it, it's why they do it. And discovering that that's kind of like the mystery of the episode in a lot of ways. And so we're trying to kind of peel back the onion and reveal the layers of what is the reason that the person does this? What are the moments that they, like, did it the wrong way, and what did they learn to discover the real reason, the real. The best reason for why they do what they do. And so that's. It's this character first origin story, why do they do what they do kind of thing. And then the other tenets of the show are like these long, kind of very personal interviews. All of our directors, we give a lot of ourselves in the interview. And so, you know, if we want them to tell us about the hardest moments in our lives, sometimes we have to relate to those things and talk about ourselves a little bit. And it becomes this kind of conversation where what you give you that. That's the energy that you get back. So that's also key. And then also, you know, our style of shooting, it's going back to Jiro dreams of sushi. It's always been about elevating our craft as best as we can. And that then reflects their craft.
A
Yeah, I mean, you could totally see that with Jiro. Like, yo, you're in this guy's presence. This guy is a master of the craft. This was, what, probably your first big documentary, right?
B
Yeah.
A
And now you gotta rise up to that, huh?
B
Yeah. They're bringing their A game. You know, he's. They're. They're in pursuit of perfection or excellence. We want to bring in the best that we can bear. And so we're bringing in all the tools of cinema to Try to, like, tell that story as best as we can.
A
So what does that mean? The tools of.
B
Tools of cinema being the cinematography, the. The environment and feeling of the shoot itself, and the comfort that we can let the chef be themselves in that way. And it's also in the music, you know. So Jiro became kind of like the template for what we were trying to do with Chef's Table, which then kind of evolved into its own style. But on Giro, it was like, we want to bring in. At the time, it was the red camera, the Red one camera, which was like the breakthrough digital cinema camera. We wanted to have music that is reflective of his brilliance in a way. So, you know, we're using, you know, some of the, like, great classical standards. You know, his sushi is compared to a concerto at one point. So he, like, play this beautiful Mozart concerto to kind of, like, give that feeling. Philip Glass music, you know, And Philip Glass is great because if Jiro's mantra is to. With each day, he's trying to improve just a little bit and elevate, or it's two steps forward and one step back. If you listen to the music of Philip Glass, there's kind of a refrain that repeats and repeats and then escalates, and then it goes into a new key and it repeats and escalates. And I don't want to butcher the interpretation of Philip Glass's music, but he really is a genius. And so we're like, okay, let's bring that kind of music. And then the composers who we've done a lot of original music on Chef's table kind of bring that philosophy as best as they can, too.
A
How do you go about describing the music that you want?
B
I'm very fortunate in that I have this team that we've worked together for a long time. So some of the directors, the cinematographers, I've known them for a long time, and our editors, I've known for a long time. Some of them, in the case of Jiro, Dreams of Sushi. That was my high school roommate, Brandon Driscoll. Lutheringer was the editor of it. And we love this kind of feeling of, like, the Philip Glass music and stuff. And so in the edit, we're putting in temp music that feels right. And so if we're aligned in taste. And actually, if you. If you're watching the Oscars, you know what. Or actually, I don't think it was at the Oscars, but it was a video of Ryan Coogler giving advice to young filmmakers. And it's about, like, Kind of like forming a squad of people that are kind of at a similar level, that have similar taste. And then you guys can kind of reference the same sort of language. Like, these are the movies that you kind of share the thing, and you don't have to like all the same stuff. And that's kind of cool. The differences of taste is actually where you can kind of stretch and grow in different directions. But we audition music. It's auditioning. You know, we try a track, we see how it feels, and then you kind of feel that energy. The first thing I do when I take on a new project is I just start building a playlist.
A
Oh, really?
B
And I share that playlist with the editor. And then from there, you know, some of those pieces might become temp. The editor then also might be inspired by other pieces that are kind of in that sonic kind of landscape. And then bring some things that I hadn't heard before that can be really cool and exciting. And that's how we kind of create, like, a vibe or like a feeling for what the new thing is going to be.
A
Tell me about this mantra of passion, not perfection.
B
Well, as Jiro aptly puts it, and is that, you know, perfection is unattainable. It's something that you can chase, but the closer you think that you get, the further away you realize you are. And that's about approaching something with sort of a humility that there is room to grow. Anybody who says that their work is perfect, I. I don't know. I don't know how you grow from there. So that, you know, that's not really the artistic approach, I don't think. I think that great, great artists are always seeking a higher level. Hourglass actually says it really, really well, because it's like, you know, you have exactly the taste gap. You have this level of taste, and you have to do the reps to build your skill so you can reach that level of taste. And a lot of people quit because it's like, it's so painful to
A
work
B
hard on something and it doesn't reach your level of taste, but you have to be okay with that and then just do the next thing and the next thing and the next thing and keep trying.
A
How do you go about sort of increasing the scope of your palette, leveling up your taste? Like, is that a conscious thing that
B
you feel like is part of your craft? It. It has to be. I mean, I know what I like, and, you know, I love. There are a lot of movies and documentaries that I absolutely love, and I fanboy out. Over. And I, you know, my. Like, for example, when I was making Jerry Dreams of Sushi, I was kind of chasing Fog of War, which has an incredible original Philip Glasgow. In fact, we even licensed a piece from that in. In. In Jiro from. From Fog of War. So there are movies that I love. Like, I was obsessed with the Hours. I was obsessed with these different films. And I was like, I want to bring some of those feelings and my misinterpretation of them or that it just becomes original when you're chasing the thing and. But you're making it about something else. And then, you know, Jiro was. It was the first movie of Bind that people had really seen. But I had done like a lot of small shorts and various things and. And like to try to get to that kind of level where I was able to get close to the taste gap. And then therapy helps too. Therapy helps because it's like if you start to get really down on yourself because it's disappointing. There's dis. Creative process is full of disappointment. For me, the most disappointing part. So here's. Here's how it kind of works in terms of like the ups and downs. And I think a lot of filmmakers
A
like the emotional art.
B
Yeah, the emotional arc of making is like you're shooting the thing. You have your dailies. It's like, wow, these shots are awesome. Like, this is so awesome. It's great. You make your little trailer and it's like, this is so cool. Then you make your assembly where you have the full length thing laid out and it is terrible.
A
It's the worst thing you've ever seen.
B
You've ever seen. And you're like, I hate myself. Like, I am so bad.
A
There's no music, there's no color correction.
B
It doesn't. It just does not work. And it's not what you thought it was going to be. And then that's where the process of editing and you just have to just like go to see your therapist, if you're able to have one and just be like, you're okay. You're not a failure. It's not where you want it to be now, but that's not because you're bad. You just have to just keep on working at it. And then it kind of. It's not going to be what you first set out for it to be. It's going to be somewhere in a new place. It's going to be somewhere in the middle. And then you have to finish the project and then move on to another Project. The pitfall is getting stuck on one project forever because it's never good enough. You just have to accept it and move on.
A
You know, you just said that it'll be something else. The way that I think about that is when you start to create a project, it's like you, us, David, we are the sort of masters of the vision, right? So this is David's vision. And so you go and you go and you go. And I think that there's a moment where like, the table turns and all of a sudden the vision is like the essence of the thing that you're creating. And now all of a sudden you have to start listening to that. And now you are surrendered. You're a passenger on the train. And now the thing that you're making is actually driving it, and you need to learn how to listen to it. And it's this crazy tables of turns moment that happens in so many creative projects I've worked on.
B
And I think that that's the healthy, correct approach. Because if you keep on trying to force your original template, especially in documentary, if it's about a real person or a real thing, and the story is not turning out to be what you thought it was, you have to have the humility to be able to then follow that. We always say, lean into the truth. You know, it's, it's, it's.
A
What's an example of that example?
B
Leaning into the truth is like, okay, let's say I had that story, a story about, you know, what, what I. What I thought that the origin story, what I thought that the story, the story was really about. And then you discover that, wait a minute, it's not really exactly that. If you're going to then kind of edit the dialogue and just try to shoehorn it, try to fabricate it into what you needed it or what you wanted it to be, then that the authenticity of the project kind of goes away and the audience can see through it and it's not satisfying for them. So, you know, if things are not what you thought it was, you just go into what it actually is. You discover what it is, and then you make the movie about that.
A
And how do you think about what you're getting in shots when you first do the shot, versus, like, creating space later on for going back and getting more B roll after maybe you've done a first edit?
B
The great saying from this cinematographer, Cesar Charlone, that is part of one of our mantras is, um, it's quantity first. Actually, you have to shoot a lot and don't just do the same takes over and over of the same thing. Shoot a great variety of things, and then you'll have more choices in the edit. And then you start to really see what's working, and then you'll know where the holes are. Like, oh, I kind of wish I had a shot of this. You kind of then find a list of things. You kind of discover the style that's working, and then you go back out and you do that. Jiro was shot in two different stages. Shot the whole thing, or what I thought was going to be the whole thing in a month. Went through the despair of the assembly, then found where the real holes were, the things that were missing, the types of shots that were working that were not working. And then I was able to kind of build the second half of the movie. That's really the key, is to shoot a lot and give yourself lots of choices in the edit. You know. You know, when you look at directors who do things in oners and that you know, where they shoot the one shot throughout the entire thing, it's a gamble. It's a big risk because the pacing of the moment that you have on set when you're shooting a thing in the field or whatever, the timing in your mind when you're filming the thing is completely different from how it plays actually when you're in the editing room.
A
From doing all these episodes, how have you refined your sense of what makes for a good introduction, how to pull somebody into a piece? You know, I think that one thing that is nice is you're not on YouTube. So, like, you don't have to do it in 10 seconds, but you definitely have to do it in 10 minutes, right?
B
Yeah. So, you know, we're not on YouTube, but we are on Netflix. And the com. The competition on Netflix, the easiness, it isn't like there was a store, it was called Blockbuster, and you go in and you rent your movie.
A
Hollywood video guy.
B
A Hollywood video. You rent your movie and you're gonna watch that movie no matter what. Yeah, right. Because that's what you have.
A
We rented the same four movies every time.
B
Yeah, well, you got four. So then you have four choices. But something is boring, you're going to switch the other thing. In the case of Netflix, it is so easy that if you're bored for one second, you're going to switch it. And I mean, on YouTube, that's even. I'm sure that the attention span you're trying to grab is even shorter term. And grabbing the attention. The great example of this is in the James Bond films, okay? So you're going to have a complex plot, a weaving of deception and who. The reveal of who the real bad guy is and, you know, the mystery of it all. But in every Bond movie, it's the cold open. They drop you into the action.
A
Immediately.
B
Yeah, immediately. It's like some crazy action scene. And you're just, like, gripped. You're gripped by the character. You're gripped by the action that's happening. And, you know, somewhere in that action there might be something that's thematic because James, we'll call it. I can call him James. Yeah, James, our dear friend 007 Will. Well, he'll usually, like, achieve whatever his goal is, but at some kind of cost. There's some kind of thematic thing that happens. And then every time with the good ones, dude, I don't know. I haven't seen every single Bond movie. But then it takes you into this opening credits sequence and stuff. And that's actually how I came up with the format of an opening hook, then the opening credits, and then we kind of start the episode in earnest. And that's something that we did on Jiro. When Jiro. When we first open on Jiro, you kind of see this peaceful shots of the fountain, and he's writing his name on a piece of paper. So it's not exactly Bond action, but he's posing a philosophical question of what is deliciousness? Like, what does it mean? You know, he dreams of sushi. Like, we're kind of giving you a hook into the character of a theme that, like, oh, I want to know more about this guy. And so for each of the Chef's Table episodes, we try to open, like, with a hook. The Masso el Botchura episode, we immediately open with the earthquake that destroys all the Parmesan in all the Parmigiano Reggiano wheels in Lake Modena. And then his journey to try to create a recipe that will inspire people to buy as much Parmesan Reggiano as possible. So they could, like, you know, try to make money off of the broken wheels and then move on. And it's a hook. It doesn't even necessarily have to fit into the overall episode, but it gives you something to grab onto with that character. And usually we allow for like a minute or two minutes on that thing, and then it hits you with the
A
opening credits when it's over the top and it just doesn't work. It's, I don't know, cheesy or trying too hard. What do you think is going on there.
B
It means we're not leaning into the truth. It means that we're trying to force it into a thing. We're trying to force something into it. Ultimately, the thing that I think hooks an audience is interest in the character. I'm gonna. Especially our show, which is about. Every episode is about a specific character. Right. I mean, if you look at. Also, like, Stan Lee, it's about a guy, you know, it's like in the Stan Lee documentary, I just go, the idea of Spider man. Like, where does the idea of Spider man come from? Immediately, like, hook him with that, and then we kind of then build the story.
A
Well, a few of the things you're saying. Where does the idea of Spider man come from? Like, I hear that. Super simple. Instantly intriguing.
B
Yeah.
A
And also just reaches a lot of people. Right. It's not like this scene from. Or like this obscure person's like, this is Spider Man. Everyone knows.
B
Yeah. Because you can't be like, I, you know, like, Stanley is very much an oral history because he's done so many interviews. We kind of pieced together.
A
He died, poor man.
B
He died before he made the film, so. But he left a trove of his oral history. I mean, he has done so many interviews over the years that we can make a hint. We can use editorial to have him tell his own story. But if you just start with, like, yeah, I was born in a, you know, in. In. In apartment on the Upper west side, and da, da, da. No, you have to just grab the audience, give them immediately the reason for why they're watching this thing. And that's what I need as a, you know, person who likes to watch things. And. And. And I want to be hooked immediately. I need a reason that I'm going to continue watching this thing.
A
And then we talk about beginnings, what matters for endings. As you think about tying the knot, dotting the T's, crossing the I.
B
Well, I think it's just like, what does it all mean? I mean, why. Why did I watch all of this? Or what is the conclusion? What is the conclusion? I mean, landing the ending is the most important thing. And I would strongly recommend that you figure that out early in the process, as early in the process as you can in the editorial process. So that way, you know where you're going. In the case of Jiro, dreams of sushi, I knew that we had a story here about a, you know, the greatest sushi chef ever. His son now is working in the restaurant, and that was actually a discovery that we made. In the first phase of shooting was like, oh, wait. Actually, there's a great story here about living in your dad's shadow a little bit. How are we going to fill those shoes? And that's something that's very personal to me, you know, and, and in my family over generations, you know, and I'm lucky for this, but, you know, my grandfather was the managing editor of the New York Times. Then my dad, you know, he wanted. My grandfather would say, you can do anything in the world you want. Just be the best at it. Which is, you know, stressful. So my, so my dad, you know, he then became the over, you know, years of working in classical music and managing classical musicians, and then he was, he became the general manager of the Metropolitan Opera. And now, you know, here I am another generation, and like, where am I going to find my place in, you know, in this family or whatever that parallels directly with Yoshikazu Jiro's son, being like, how do I fill those shoes? Then we discover that, wait a minute, we found somewhere in there that Yoshikazu was the one that served the Michelin star. So we have proof that that kind of transfer happened, that Yoshikazu is worthy of the mantle. And so then we kind of build that kind of as the ending. But the real lesson, I mean, I think it's like the lesson. The lesson in Jiro Dreams of Sushi is just keep going and the journey is the destination. You know, it's worth the effort itself, is what makes it worth it more so than Michelin stars or whatever. It's about just living a life where you do and you chase an unattainable dream. And that in itself is like a beautiful life.
A
And how deliberate are you about lessons? Like, when are lessons important in a documentary style film? And when do you actually want to take your hand off the wheel and say, I don't know what the lessons are. For example, I just watched Spirited Away. I watched it last night. And you know, I think maybe there's a lesson in there of like the little girl, she's just super optimistic about everything and just kind of constantly happy. And then there's like the, the, the, the no face spirit that comes in and she's like, oh yeah, just like, come on in or whatever. But like, I don't know. I think that one thing that's nice about that movie is I don't know that that lesson's super clear. So when do you want a super clear lesson and when don't you?
B
Okay, so I also love Spirited away. And it's a movie that I've thought a great deal about, actually, because I love the Miyazaki movies, of course. But that one in particular is really, really interesting. And I'll challenge a couple of your assumptions on. Okay. Chihiro is actually not. In the beginning of the movie, she's pissed because they're moving and she's depressed. She's gonna have to make new friends, a new school. And that's something that a lot of young people can identify with. Okay? So she's anxious about that thing, right? They go to. They find a shrine, and the parents are, like, all excited about, but she's like, oh, she's anxious. She's like, this is also new and weird. And the parents are eating the food and stuff, remember? So then she is now thrust into. Okay. She thought that she was gonna have a tough time just, like, going to school. Now she is a cleaning lady at a spa for spirits and demons. Okay? She has to accept that she's not going to get what she wants here and has to just do the hard work to work through it. And that's my interpretation. I think other people will say other things about it, but that's where, you know, a great filmmaker kind of can layer it in, in this way where it leaves it up to the audience. But there are enough clues that we can kind of understand what it is in that movie.
A
I guess what I was trying to get at is there's all of these moments in the movie where other people are just terrified, and she's just like, oh, come in. Like, even with no face, people are so scared of no face. And then she's like, come on the train and, like, behave yourself. No face.
B
That's right. That's the special power of being the outsider. In a way, she hasn't been, like, conformed to the power dynamics of that place. So in a way, like, her outsiderness kind of becomes a special power. And I think that that's true for, like, Alice in Alice in Wonderland, you know, which is sort of like. I feel like this is kind of a new version of that in a lot of ways.
A
Back to what we were talking about with the theme and when. Don't you want to be too explicit? Like, even that. I think we could probably talk for another hour about it. Because Miyazaki is not, like, this is what the movie's about, right? So in some ways, art is better when there's a sort of. I want to use the word ambiguous theme that people can sort of chew on for themselves kind of, like, a Zen Cohen. Right. Like, it doesn't just have, like, a clear thing.
B
Yeah.
A
But then at other times, like, with Jiro, it really is a story of persistence, and it's a story of dedication, and it's a story of craftsmanship that is uniquely Japanese, which is, I think, part of the reason why it resonated so much for me. And other people in America were like, I've never seen somebody work this hard on one thing in my entire life. Oh, my goodness. But it's a clear theme. It works, but it's very different.
B
Yeah. Yeah. And the other thing that's great about the Miyazaki movies is that the plot goal is very clear. Like, she's stuck in this crazy place. She needs to get her parents back and get back to the real world, which she's not going to take for granted anymore because she's like, whoa, this was really crazy. And then now she's equipped to, like. The challenge of going to school, like, doesn't seem that scary. Going to a new school doesn't seem that scary anymore. The challenge in a lot of the Chef's Table episodes, and particularly in Jiro, is what. It isn't. Like, they're practicing for the sushi competition, and, like, you know, it's like the World Series of Sushi, and they have to train. It's not like a sports movie like that or something like that. It's like, what is the goal? And we kind of have to lay that out kind of clearly that the goal is that you seek perfection, even though you're never going to get there.
A
But.
B
But how can a person have the patience to do that? And you kind of just get to watch it happen. And I think that that's one of the things, like, we aspire to that. But there's also a whole thing about parenting where he's absent for the kids kind of growing up. And there are great sacrifices in this life of craft. And so some people see it as kind of a. There's. It's sad at times. It was a part where Jiro says, one time, I was back on a Sunday, and Tekash, the younger son, like, woke up. He was like, mom, mom, there's a strange man in the house. And it was him. It was. It was his own father. He just didn't recognize him because he was gone at work all the time. And he tells it like it's a funny story, and it is funny, but it's like, whoa. Like, that's sad. And so that's kind of the Nuance is the sacrifice of choosing that life. And we realized that, you know, Jiro, he grew up and his dad was an alcoholic and died at a young age. And he didn't know. He doesn't know anything. He doesn't know how to be a dad, you know? And so in the. The overarching goal, like, I want to make the best sushi ever, and I want to be better and do better and do better and do better, there are journeys and lessons along the way, and they should just kind of come out naturally, I think, the different acts of it. Each act, I think, has a lesson. And somewhere in the midpoint of the movie, there might be a false victory. Where you think. And I think a lot of great films. And again, I don't look at documentary structure any differently than I would look at, like, a feature film. Feature film structure. The midpoint, there's something where you think that we've done it, but actually we've done it the wrong way or we've overseen the whole. We've overlooked the whole point of the whole thing. And then that is going to be what's going to propel us towards the end of the movie. That pitfall, that false victory, is going to make the protagonist feel at rest for a moment while things swirl and build against them. And then they have to get through that. They have to discover the true meaning of the lesson of the movie.
A
Oh, that's fantastic. So tell me more about the false victory. Where does that show up in. In feature films?
B
I mean, let's see, like, what's. What's a good example of that in Titanic? It's like the unlikely. You know, it's like you're rooting for Leo and, you know, she is not happy in this rich person's world. And they're having fun under deck, and everything is, like, going swimmingly. Pun? No, everything's going great for a moment.
A
Floating on life.
B
Yeah. Because, like, they're not supposed to be in this world together. And here they are falling in love, and then they make love in the car, and the hand on the thing, and it's like, draw me. You know, like, you're like your French girls, and it's like, oh, my God, this is, like, beautiful. Meanwhile, the iceberg is about to hit the boat. So they're the audience, and they are lulled into a sense of, oh, it's working. Like, that's the false victory. Like, the victory is a personal victory for them. But ultimately, things are about to get a hell of a lot worse. In case Of Titanic, they really. Things kind of go downhill. Not spoiler alert. But that's the kind of arc that. That I think works in a lot of films.
A
Well, in Train Dreams, which we were talking about right before we started, there was. I remember I was at the theater and there's a narrator, and it's about 35 minutes into the film, and the narrator says, little did he know that he would look back on these years as some of the best of his life.
B
Something like, yeah, that's like foreshadowing that, like.
A
And I'm sitting in my seat and I'm just like, no. But then it's another 10 minutes before. Before the big event happens. And so you know that something is gonna go wrong. And you can feel it in your stomach when you're watching a movie.
B
I wonder if that was in the original script or if they were like, we need something to just keep the audience. Cause otherwise, if all. Everything seems so nice and happy, like, where is the dramatic tension in Titanic? We know the boat is gonna sink, right? You know, Lord of the Rings is a great one. The false victory there. I mean, each one has its own arc. But, like, if you're just looking at the Fellowship of the Ring, the Fellowship is formed and, like, we're out there. Like, they all have their skills. They're able to fight the orcs or whatever, but ultimately the ring is going to divide them, you know, and then things, you know, Boromir gets all ringed out and things really go badly or they're gonna make it through the. What is it? Through the. The minds of Moria. And, like, they're. It seems like they're gonna be okay. There's this beautiful moment where it's like, you know, young Frodo, like, we must do, you know, make the best of the time that we had that's given to us. And it's like, oh, wow. Like, we're feeling, like, pretty good there. And then, oops. Like, the helmet goes down and it's an insane chase and then we lose Gandalf, you know, so we feel like we're safe and then things just go bad. I mean, a lot of screenwriters and people in a lot. I know a lot of writers listen to this podcast are going to hate this. I love the book Save the Cat by Blake Snyder, which just lays it out in the most clear way and where literally has. I mean, he even has page numbers of when these things should happen. So he's like, over prescriptive, but you can see he breaks down movies in A really interesting way where you can see all of the kind of moments that the movie requires that then breaks us into the second act or propels us into the third act. This moment, the dark night of the soul is like so important. And that's when you know the hero. When all is lost. We've had this false victory or this midpoint, things get a hell of a lot worse. And then we're down in the lowest part. All is lost. And then the hero has to look within his or herself and figure out what is the lesson that they were supposed to have taken from that character that died before or whatever the thing is. And then they're able to look at the situation in a new way. And then that's what propels them into the third act and that final action that'll get us to the ending.
A
It's interesting that you mentioned two principles. And one was like a fake victory and then another one was this sort of darkness and despair. But not all is lost. There's still this glimmer of hope.
B
The last piece is the hope.
A
There's like, they're almost perfect.
B
It's like all is lost. Yeah, exactly. But that's what makes, you know, a movie, like, fun to watch. And, you know, and the most simple way of putting it is like, you know, the character goes into a story, they want something, but what they want is not actually what they need. And the process of the film is them discovering that what they thought that they knew about themselves was actually wrong. And that through the process of the movie, they actually then get to learn about themselves and accept who they truly are. And that's where the kernel of hope comes from. And then with that self acknowledgement and acceptance, they can kind of make it up to the, to the end.
A
We're talking about cinema here. And what makes a documentary cinematic versus like a YouTube documentary, like, break that down. It's.
B
It's information versus emotion. Okay. And that was a journey that I took when I first started making Georgian Sushi. I was like, okay, this is gonna be all the information about sushi. It'll be so interesting. It'll have the cool cinematography.
A
You'll learn so much.
B
Yeah, you'll learn a lot. But then I realized that that actually was not what I wanted to watch. I wanted to watch a movie with the story. And so what makes it. It's. It's that it goes. Character and emotion is much more important than information. In chef's table, you will not learn anything about how to cook. Anything, pretty much. But you will Learn about why they cook. And that's because of the show, and that's why the show has lasted is because it's about character journey. It's not about facts.
A
People care about people.
B
People care about people, and that's what hooks you, and that's what makes you remember things. I mean, if it's just informational, then, in fact, we remember information because of the emotional context of it.
A
Right.
B
But I think that that's what separates, you know, a cinematic documentary from, you know, a something that is just as purely informative.
A
And how much writing. What kind of writing do you do in advance of an episode?
B
Yeah, writing on a doc happens throughout the entire process. You know, first it's in the casting of the character, selection of the character, and then what you are able to read or surmise about the story, what brought you to that character anywhere do you know about it? And that's kind of just literally written in the form of an outline that will guide the questions that you ask during the interview. Because ultimately, you know, in the beginning, we usually want them to kind of say the outline as we know it, and then they'll add in, you know, additional things and stuff. But that gives us, like, a biographical backbone that we can kind of build the movie around.
A
So say the outline is. This is what the story.
B
Yeah, the outline is they were born here, and then they did this, and they did this, and then, you know, they loved Grandma's cooking, and then they, you know, got a job in a restaurant, and it was really, really hard, and they almost quit, but then they gave it one more try, et cetera. And then we kind of, like, we've chosen these chefs because we can kind of see that hero's journey arc, that kind of conventional arc of a character who has some kind of talent, discovers it, uses it the wrong way, realizes, learns a lesson there, and then uses it the right way. And then, you know, that may or may not work out exactly the way they thought it was. They then discover who they truly are and what they act, what their actual purpose is. And so, like, that's. That's, like the first stage of the writing. Then when you're shooting it and you're actually conducting the interviews and you're filming the things, you're discovering new things, and you're writing it by deciding what it is that you're gonna be filming a lot of the time. We know that we're gonna be building this schedule. We're gonna be filming this interview here. We're gonna be filming them cooking here. They're gonna go on a trip to this farm here. We'll go back to their hometown so they can kind of reflect on their life here. But then as you're doing it, you might discover there's another location. And as prepared as you are, you always wanna leave room for that moment of kind of improvisation. But then the real heavy lifting of the writing is in the edit. And when you're editing it, that's when you're actually choosing. You're writing it by choosing which words are going to appear on screen. And so it happens throughout the entire process. But in Doc, the heaviest writing is at the end, right?
A
Yeah. I've been thinking a lot about sort of Doc editing of what if you. It's like a thought experiment of we're only going to think of this in terms of visuals, and they were gonna only think of this in terms of words. And maybe if you only think of it in terms of one, but not the other, but not both at the same time, you see different things and don't see other things. Like Brian Eno, the music producer, he used to come into a studio and if people got stuck, he'd take like, Blue Painter's tape and he'd put it right in the middle of the studio. Be like, this side of the studio is off limits. Oh, now you have to only make a song on this side of the studio.
B
Oh, wow.
A
And so you're basically. You're making all these constraints to unstuck yourself.
B
That's interesting. I mean, that's one of the things that also works with Doc is that you never have enough money. And so the. You have to work with what you have. Which is interesting because, like, I don't know how going back to James Cameron, like, when he can literally create anything that he wants at any moment. Like, there's too many choices. Like, that's, like, really intimidating.
A
I think we don't have to shoulder that burden.
B
Yeah, that's. That's really interesting.
A
How do you think about pacing?
B
I think make it not boring.
A
Make it not boring.
B
You have to watch it with people. It's so interesting when. Even when you have your assembly and then you have your first cut and you think it's pretty good. Sit in a room with a couple people that you trust who are not, you know, going to, you know, be cruel. But, like, just sitting, even without any feedback, when you just sit in a room and watch the thing with another person, you start to feel that it totally is different. And then the pace, like, you start to. You can Feel when it's slow, because for me, I can. I feel responsibility that I'm taking this person's time. And if they're bored, it like, kills me. And also, I have a pretty short attention span. I don't want to be bored when I'm watching it. But I think that things can be as long and paced as it is interesting. And that becomes like a real kind of feeling thing. But you have to watch it with someone else. Once you watch with someone else, you will learn so much.
A
It is pretty astonishing. It's kind of like reading something out loud. Your brain just knows how to edit. And I noticed the same thing if I'm watching something that I made with somebody else, just the presence of another person there. I don't know if it's that you're really sensitive to when they're bored, when they're excited, or if it's just your brain behaves differently when you actually feel that there's somebody there. But your sensitivity dial to pacing and boredom and excitement just goes no.
B
Immediately you're like, you know, actually, let me fast forward through this part and we'll get to the good part. You know, or if you're. Even if you're reading. If you're reading something that you've written to somebody, I imagine it's sort of like, okay. And then you actually start just kind of jumping ahead in your own text to, like, get to it. You might feel that impulse. And that's a great way to sense the pacing of the thing.
A
Wait, but take me to the other side. Like, what is an example of something where you're like, no, we're gonna, like, pump the brakes. We're gonna be slow here. Because I think a lot of advice about pacing is faster is better, Faster is better. But so much to go back to the question about cinema is like kind of a comfort. A comfort with there's oxygen, there's space. Be a little slower.
B
Yeah. And knowing where to put that, my process is that the assembly is way too long. And I am so pained by how bored I am or how nervous I am of the person being bored that then my second cut, I cut out way too much and the whole thing goes way too fast. And then I know where I'm able to then, okay, here's an area where there can be some space and I can breathe a little bit. But first I overcorrect and then there's something in the middle that just starts to kind of feel right. But, you know, so much of this is intuition and based on, you know, your own taste. Because we want to make something that we want to watch and to be in tune. To be able to watch something that you've made as an audience, that's a skill that requires time. Because also, as the creator of the thing, you have so much context of that the audience does not have that might make you think that something is more interesting than it is or less interesting than it is, which is why, again, it's so important to watch things with other people and to also, you know, test it out and get feedback from people that you trust, but that. Who are not mean.
A
Yeah, yeah.
B
I had.
A
I had David Zucker on the show who made Airplane and Naked Gun, and yet total, total legend. And, you know, those movies are like, boom, boom, boom, boom, joke, joke, joke, joke. It's every 15 to 30 seconds. Yeah. And the thing that they pioneered to go back to the story is they got started basically doing live skits and stuff, so they got really used to audience laughter. And then once they made their first movie, they were like, why wouldn't we just show a bunch of people and then take note of when people are laughing? So the reason that those movies are so funny is they got all their friends together, and if there was 30 seconds without a joke, they were like, all right, we need. We just.
B
They know what jokes to cut because they. They test.
A
It's exactly what you're saying.
B
That's amazing. And I just want to pause a moment and just say, you know, you've talked to so many fucking geniuses. Amazing. First off, I'm like, what am I doing here? This is amazing. So thank you for having me. Again, I wonder, especially for a comedy, especially for a comedic director, how painful that first assembly or that first rough cut that you're showing people, if people are not laughing, like, and you're trying to be funny, like, that must be real. That must be really hard. But that movie works because I think the pacing is exactly right, and that is an onslaught of jokes. And of course, you know, they're very funny, and so they make it. Really make it work. And a lot of them are funny. But, like, yeah, testing comedy, I imagine, is. Is a painful process, but that it really shows you, you know, what is working and. And what isn't. There's no other way.
A
You know, talk to me about feedback, because without getting into specific examples, like, we made this pilot, and then I've got a lot of feedback from other people. It's like, we're not gonna do that. We're not gonna do that, you know what I mean?
B
But you know what?
A
People are very good at diagnosing when something's wrong, but they're not always good at diagnosing what the solution is.
B
Well, that's exactly right. And I think that that's, you know, and it's. And I've done a studio movie with where we did test screenings and stuff. And you know, there is an impulse amongst people who are being tested on the thing is that all of a sudden they are also directors and writers and they, you know, will prescribe to you what the answer is. The, the. And what you don't want to do is you don't want to overcorrect. You don't want to get insecure about something that they, that somebody may not understand, but you feel is right. And then you are afraid, like, now I'm going to cut this thing. I think that the important way to look at it is look at it like a doctor patient relationship. Okay, So a patient goes into the doctor's office and says, oh, my back hurts. Like, I think I need like 25 Vicodins. And Da, da, da, da, da. And like, they want to, they, they, they will be able to tell you what the problem is, but they're not the ones who should be prescribing the solution. And so what's very. What I think is important, but they will prescribe the solution. They will tell you what they want, especially when it comes to a feedback thing, because this is their moment to shine. And they're going to be like, oh, here's how you can fix your thing. Like, I'm the one who's going to give the note that's going to make it into the movie. What you have to do is just separate what is the symptom that they are reacting to, and then through your own taste, you can choose to address that symptom. But what you're not going to do is you're not going to prescribe them a bunch of opiates or whatever, because that's what they think that they want. You know, that's the real, that's the difficult thing here. How do we figure out what is the symptom of the thing? And for me, it's just like I, the questions I asked are like, what did the movie mean to you? Like, or what, what was the story? Or was there any part of it that you did not understand? I want to know where I'm losing the audience.
A
What does the movie mean?
B
What did the movie mean? Yeah.
A
And was there any part that you didn't.
B
Yeah. Were there parts that you didn't understand? And I may even, like, lay out, like, as I'm talking through it, like, did you understand. You know, like the. Did you understand the conflict? Or did you understand this? Or they'll tell me things about that they may have a solution for or not. But I realize it's like, okay, well, they're giving me a solution. They think we should change something. It's because they didn't necessarily understand this moment. Or there's a new way of approaching that. But the solution has to come through the taste of the filmmaker. If you start making a bunch of changes, trying to make other people happy and people pleasing, then you've lost the thread, and then the movie will stop. Meaning, you have to. Like, if you're creating a thing, it has to. You have to understand it yourself, and you have to know why you're doing it. And so listening is important, but doing has to be based on still going with your gut and your own intuition. And this is where we can kind of close the gap between what you and the filmmaker know, the extra context that you know, and what the audience. Where the audience is not enjoying something. So that's kind of like. And it isn't always about, like, making sure the audience enjoys it, but it's like, you want to make sure that they understand it. And there are things that you'll know that the audience doesn't know that, like, will you be like, oh, they didn't get that thing because, you know, it's all because you wrote it. But maybe it wasn't clear that the character has this issue that is making them do this later or whatever.
A
Well, the word that was coming to mind for me was coherence of if you have your vision and then all of a sudden you're taking a little bit from here, here, here, here, here, here, here. All of a sudden, it becomes like a fragmented piece of art.
B
Right.
A
Have you heard this word? Gustempa Work? So it means total work of art. So here's the definition. A comprehensive art form that synthesizes music, drama, spectacle and dance into a single, unified aesthetic experience. Popularized by composer Richard Wagner to describe his operas, it also refers to architecture and design, where all elements, structure, decoration and furnishings are harmonized. And, you know, you see this a lot in architecture, where if you have buildings where the architect was involved in everything, you can actually see different motifs show up all over the place. For example, you go to the Guggenheim. What do you think of? You think of a big, round Kind of rotunda type thing, swirling, going around and around. That's Frank Lloyd Wright obsession. And where, what do you see on the water fountains? You see the exact same shape. The little water fountain that you drink out of on the third floor when you're a little bit thirsty and need somewhere to park for 10 seconds is the same motif as the whole building at scale. And I think that that's a lot of what leads to a work of art. We are like, something about that really works is it's like it comes from the creator. But then the real subtle point that I think you're making here is the answer isn't, I'm the creator. I know what's right. I don't listen to anyone else. It's this subtle thing of you have to listen to other people and say, okay, this isn't working in this way. It isn't working that way. But then how do you maintain that
B
total work of art, right where, you know, but you're still putting in the water fountain in a way that's still fits within the art? You know, there's that great scene in Amadeus when Mozart, you know, it's like one of his great, you know, pieces. And then the, the, the, the patron is, I guess he's like the Duke or the Count or whatever. He's like, too many notes. It's too many notes. And, you know, it's like, it's Mozart. Like, you know, but this, this is actually a reason why some of the greatest filmmakers are known as very difficult. Like, if you like, you know, people like David Fincher or Cameron or just like throughout history, a lot of the great filmmakers are known as being very tough or sometimes being jerks. But it's because they are so persistent to their own form that they will not budge on things. And if they're right and their intuition is spot on, as these filmmakers often are, that's why the movies are able to be so good. Especially when it comes to a big budget kind of movie. The pressure to make the adjustments and to change to please the audience because it's, you know, it's art, but it's a commercial product. Like, it has to make money. The pressure is like, is very high. There's this great story, and I don't, I guess I'm obsessed with James Cameron right now. This story where it's like the studio was like, you got too much of this flying. They're all. They're learning how to fly together. They're flying too much. You got to cut it. You got to Cut it. Each minute costs $10 million. You've got to cut this. And he's like, no. And they're like, why? It doesn't do anything historic. He's like, because I want to see it. I want to see it. And he followed his intuition. And Avatar makes a billion. Makes a billion dollars. Because his intuition is very. Is. Is what broad audiences want to see. Whether we can. It can be explained or not. So sometimes you got to be tough on these things. And if you really believe in the thing and if you're making something that's new and something that's different, you're going to get a lot of notes of people being like, well, it doesn't feel like what I've seen before, but maybe that's why it's good. So there's a certain amount of courage that has to come into that. You know, a lot of people, including Jiro himself, were like, you're making the most boring movie of all time. Like, literally nothing is happening in this movie. But I believe that I wanted to see that octopus get massaged for a long time. And we did it. We did it. But there were other moments where I was like, you know what I. And especially when watching with an audience, I can feel like, okay, like I've done four different scenes about rice. Like, we got to pick one. You know, it's true. We have to pick one. And being flexible and being able to change is an important part of just being like a functional human being able to process new information and then make adjustments, but without losing yourself. Like, that's, I think, key to being a good person and a functional artist.
A
And as you're thinking about editing dialogue, what are the things that you would
B
focus the most simple, actionable thing is, I say, what are the fewest words to get the idea across? And that especially when you, if you've shot some really in depth scenes or you have some really wicked dialogue that you love that you've written or whatever, and you don't want to lose that stuff. That's where, you know, they say kill your babies. You know, you have to be okay with losing some things in the service of clarity and moving the story forward. And each scene has to move, has to move us forward. We always want to be cutting to something and not away from it. And that's. What does that mean, cutting to something? Like, it should never feel like we're propelling over here. And then we're like, now we're cutting to over here. And then we have to rebuild a moment or Rebuild the momentum. I think that the feeling is. And again, this can be interpreted by anybody in their own way. But it's like when I'm. How can I get out of the scene and then be cutting to something that advances us and pushes us forward? And so. And then when it comes to dialogue, it's like, let's cut to the response. Let's not cut back to a reaction or cut to the reaction so that we're moving forward into the scene. And then I really do think it's about what are the least amount of words that we can do to get through this. And sometimes it's just also a great actor can convey the intention of the scene without needing to say all of the words. And then you'll find that you're able to cut things based on actually how it's shot. Yeah. Or even just like if you're making good choices as a director and you can kind of feel like, oh, wait, actually, I know. This scene was about this character trying to do something and then realizing that she needs to change her strategy. As soon as that change happens, maybe you can then actually get out of the scene without having to explain it.
A
I love a scene without words. I love a scene without words. There is before sunrise, there's this really cool scene when. So they've just gotten off the train, they're trying to work out if they're going to have their first kiss. And they go to this record store. And so they're in there, they sort of pick a record, then they go back in the listening booth and the whole scene. I want to say it's like 40 seconds, 50 seconds. And all it is is like body movements and facial interaction and then eye contact. No eye contact. Yeah, no eye contact.
B
That's amazing.
A
And so much is said, but nothing is spoken. And it's just like, yeah, flawless.
B
That's great. That's really. I mean, that's the hardest thing to do and it's the best. I remember that was actually one of the best things at USC Film school was that the. The early, like this first students films were made, were not allowed to have dialogue. You were forced to tell the story only through the visuals or the characters looks or interactions or whatever. And to show without saying, I think that's like, what? That's the dream, right? Yeah.
A
Give me the pitch for reading books like Save the Cat and following these principles because, like, the obvious critique of them is, I don't want to be formulaic in my storytelling. I'm not going to do that. I Don't want to be like anybody else. I'm going to total, unique, you know, special snowflake, whatever. But here you are. Here many people are saying, I've read these books, these principles. They're true, they're consistent.
B
I think it's about knowing the conventions so then you can break them. It's sort of like you want to know the rules before you do something crazy and different, and then you. That way, you know. You know, and then we're also. By defying conventions, sometimes you can lead an audience's expectation one way and then kind of flip it back on them in a new way. But I think that just like knowing the conventions works. A lot of screenwriters don't like Save the Cat because they say it's like, quite overly simplistic. But my favorite thing about Save the Cat, and for me, just because I like having at least something, a skeleton to follow. I love how he breaks down some of the big movies into chunks. So as you kind of understand why the sequence of events is kind of happening the way that it is and how what you set up the theme stated in the very beginning of the movie then begin to kind of pay off later on. And so, yeah, I think you gotta learn the rules of the game before you break them.
A
Right. And then as you think about scenes, do you. Is that how you process?
B
Like, if.
A
If there's an episode, do you think of it like, I don't know, it's gonna be seven, eight scenes? Like, what is the role of a scene?
B
How do you create a good scene in Chef's Temple? Because the show has existed for so long and we have many different people that have worked on episodes and stuff, we still need to make sure that the show is still the show. And so we call them buckets. There is a cold open, then there is a opening credits, and then there's sort of like a critics analysis of like, here is the chef. Here's why we're watching the episode. Here's what they do, here's how they do it. So there are certain types of scenes. There's been going to a farm or whatever, and then there's going to their hometown. Like we talked about. There are various kind of types of scenes that we know work. And then, you know, there's nuance in how we connect them. And a scene is just. It's a. It's a moment. There's moments that are happening in the present moment, and that's what we're filming. And then there are scenes that are described through Their biographical interview, which are moments in their lives. And then we just kind of intersperse them and kind of weave them together. And then the visuals then come after, whether it's archival photographs of them or whatever it is. But, you know, a scene is like a moment in time, and there is something attempted that causes some kind of change or change in perspective. Something in the scene is. A scene is where you lay out a moment, and then something changes. Something has to change in the scene. There has to be something. Otherwise, where are we going? You know, that's where the turns and twists of a movie take place, is like scene to scene.
A
That's interesting. Almost thinking of, like, if you were watching a movie, you were trying to. You know, we're sitting side by side and you're trying to basically teach me how a good movie works, how a good story works. And we're sitting here watching a movie. Like, what questions would you ask me at the end of the scene to basically say, did you understand this? So, like, what I'm hearing from you is, what changed there?
B
What changed? What is a character coming into the scene with? And then what are they leaving with? It cannot be the same thing. A character has to come into a scene with an expectation or a goal. Ideally, in every scene, your character is trying to do something or to get something, and then there is some kind of obstacle. They're not getting what they want. And then they have to make some kind of adjustment or they can just be hitting that wall. And then we're like, wow, what? The rest of the audience is like, whoa, what are they gonna do? And then in the next scene, they're taking in that blockage, and then they might be discovering some path, some new way of doing the thing to get through that, but you have to. It's all about what is the character bringing in, what is the character leaving with? And that's actually one of the things that a lot of great actors are gonna be asked. These are the questions that actors are gonna be asking directors, especially when a movie is shot out of order. But it's like, what am I coming in with? What am I leaving with? It has to be different.
A
If you were to zoom out, like, at the scope of a movie itself, and we're debriefing, and you want me to help. You want to help me understand Spirited Away, whatever it is. Like, what are some of the questions that a movie watcher who wants to write better movies should be thinking to themselves?
B
What is the character coming in with? And what is the character coming in with. What are they leaving with? The character is going to come in. I mean, this is like. You don't always get what you want, but if you try, sometimes you get what you need. Like, sure. That's why that lyric has stuck with us. It's like the character has a view of the world exists in the setup of this world. They think that they know what they want and what they're striving for or what they think they are supposed to be. They think that they know who they are. And then something happens. Something happens that turns that world upside down. And then at that point, the character is on a journey to try to. In this upside down world, still struggling, grasping to get back to that version of themselves that they thought that they knew. And through the process of the film, they will discover that the thing that they wanted actually was an illusion. And that they need something that is completely different.
A
I mean, all the time.
B
Yeah. So that's like. And that works for everything. He's just like, such broad things. But that's what makes it a story instead of just a description, right? Yeah, Anything that applies. Just not only for. And in docs, actually, there's one more level, because the audience thinks that they know what the thing is about, and then it becomes about something else. So the audience is actually a character that's going on the journey because they are learning things, because information docs that are based on information, like planet Earth and various stuff like that, like, they still have a story. Like, there still is a nuance. We want to surprise the audience. The audience is coming in expecting to see this kind of thing, and then they'll learn something different. Great example is Exit through the Gift Shop. You know, where you think the movie is about Banksy, but then it actually becomes about Mr. Brainwash. You have to take. The audience thinks that they're going to get one thing, and then you're going to give them something else that is what they actually needed.
A
And what's funny about that is what they think they're gonna get has to be immediately appealing. Cause then they're signing up to say, I want that.
B
Right.
A
But then the other thing is sort of like, wow, that. That's why this is worth watching. Because something is gonna be revealed that gives it a feeling of satisfaction.
B
Right.
A
So earlier you mentioned your grandpa's line, and I'll sort of let you say it. But when I read that as I was prepping, I was like, wow, that is a very positive, liberating thing. But when you mentioned it earlier, it seemed like, it was sort of a constricting idea. And I saw, like, a little jolt of fear or something, a discomfort in that quote. And I was like, what's going on there? So let's go back to it.
B
Sure. Well, this is my journey of change in the way that I look at things, you know, kind of in the story of my life. Right. So I'm. I'm 42 now. My grandpa, you know, kind of famously said to my dad, and that was repeated to me, you know, that you can do anything in the world that you want, just be the best at it. And it sounds like, you know, it's. It sounds kind of like, you know, it means you. You can. Anything that you're passionate about, you know, it's like, go for it. But it's. The idea of being the best at it is actually kind of a trap now, because what does that mean, to be the best at anything? Like, the best in itself is, like, kind of a problem. So that would mean that, you know, no matter what you do now, you're looking at what everyone else is doing, and, like, am I better or am I the best at that thing? And ultimately, maybe it should be, you can do anything in the world that you want, just do your best at it, or just, like, you know, be yourself and achieve, trying to go after that thing, which makes it a little bit more, you know, flexible. But I think that there can be a real fear where your identity becomes predicated on am I the best or not at that thing? And I think that it's a healthier approach, is to just do the thing rather than worrying about if you're the best at it. Because then no matter how far you go and how good you do, it'll never be enough. Because nobody's the best at anything. Because that's. It's totally subjective, right?
A
And if you are, you won't be the best in 20 years.
B
If you think you're the best at something, then I can guarantee you that you're not. Unless you're Roger Federer.
A
He's just that cool. Good to meet you, man.
B
Thank you so much, man. Appreciate it. Thank you.
How I Write with David Perell
Episode: David Gelb: How to Write Cinematically | How I Write
Guest: David Gelb (Director of Jiro Dreams of Sushi, Chef’s Table)
Date: April 15, 2026
This episode dives into the art of cinematic storytelling—especially in documentaries—with acclaimed director David Gelb. David Perell and Gelb explore the mechanics of narrative, focusing on character-driven stories, the dynamics of writing for the screen, and the nuances that distinguish cinematic documentaries from mere informative ones. Gelb reflects deeply on process, lessons learned from master chefs, feedback, pacing, and the ongoing pursuit of creative excellence.
David Gelb’s approach to writing and filmmaking is built on character, empathy, and emotional mechanics. For him, great documentaries—and, by extension, all strong narratives—are made not by piling on information, but by peeling back layers of motivation, letting each scene transform both characters and viewers. The craft, whether in framing a shot or cutting dialogue, comes down to pursuing authenticity, trust in collaborative energies, embracing partial failures, and forever chasing the gap between taste and ability.
This summary is intended as a thorough guide to the episode’s dialogue and insights, useful for writers, filmmakers, and anyone fascinated by the mechanics of cinematic storytelling.