Director David Gelb had a quest to make a documentary about the greatest sushi restaurants in the world. But everyone he spoke to directed him to the unassuming man who runs a 10-seat restaurant near a subway in Tokyo: Jiro Ono of Sukiyabashi Jiro.

The room is not spacious and the ambiance could be described as sparse, but there is a three-month waiting list. There are no snacks, no appetizers; just plate after plate of award-winning sushi.

Behind the counter, Jiro is a stern host, placing his morsels just so and adjusting the portions to each eater. We watch the 85-year-old man -- grim-faced, bald head shining -- as diners swallow his creations in a single gulp.

When Gelb takes us in for a closer look at Jiro, his first words are a question: "What defines deliciousness?"

As we ponder the answer, we're treated to sumptuous close-up shots of his edible art. For Jiro, simplicity is the goal. Everything is done to bring out the essence of the fish. The rice, an often under-appreciated component, is served room temperature to better let the flavours of the vinegar seasoning and the seafood mingle.

Master sushi chef Jiro Ono is profiled in the documentary Jiro Dreams of Sushi. (eOne Films)

As food critic Masuhiro Yamamoto explains, Jiro serves sushi in a series of movements, like a symphony. First, he offers the classics, such as tuna and mackerel. The second movement is centred on fresh seasonal selections. The third and final movement features traditional ingredients such as egg.

As Gelb brings us into Jiro's world, we also meet the maestro's son. Yoshikazu is a master chef in his own right, but labours in his father's shadow. Another son has already fled to the suburbs to open his own restaurant -- out from under the old man's unforgiving gaze.

Jiro has dedicated his life to reducing sushi to its essential elements and Gelb could stand to learn a lesson from his subject. There's enough quiet drama between the aspirations of Jiro's son and his other proteges, but the film doesn't stay in the tiny restaurant. Gelb widens his focus by taking a trip to the famous Tokyo fish market, where shrimp and tuna experts put aside special catches for Jiro. Dreams of Sushi also touches on declining fish stocks and overfishing.

Then, there are the visual flairs. Any fan of documentaries will recognize the soundtrack: a drum chant borrowed from Baraka (as well as its sped-up camera trick). There's the ever-present Phillip Glass fluttering away as Jiro carefully brushes each slice of tuna. Don't get me wrong. I adore Baraka and a little Glass goes a long way, but in a movie about a culinary pioneer, Gelb's cinematic flourishes feel stale.

Still, for the average sushi fan, my quibbles won't detract from the overall experience. Jiro Dreams of Sushi remains a satisfying ode to a life lived with a single-minded purpose.

RATING: 3.5 out of 5