The Zen Diary Review
The Zen Diary is proof positive that sometimes cinema is better off without high drama and conflict and can shine by simply showing just one person’s personal belief and struggle with how best to live.
Set in the mountains in Nagano prefecture, a writer and former Zen monk named Tsutomu (Kenji Sawada) lives by himself, making the food he learned to cook whilst at the monastery as a boy with ingredients he grounds and gathers locally himself. At the behest of his editor (Takako Matsu) who had known his late wife and adores his food, he is writing a piece for her about his way of living and cooking. Tracking through the seasons over the course of a year, Tsutomu partakes in and shares the wealth of the mountains and forests around him, but must also come to grapple with loss and his own mortality through which he must learn to recapture the richness and joy of life.
Kenji Sawada gives a considered and capable performance as Tsutomu. Whilst in some ways the character is something of the typical wise old man archetype, Sawada finely balances Tsutomu’s hardiness and good nature with his occasional awkwardness and feelings of hurt. His main supporting character, his editor Machiko, is ably portrayed by Matsu, but the character unfortunately lacks the depth for the actor to really shine. Ultimately though, this is a piece that rises and falls on the strength of its central character, and there it is on sure footing.
The Zen Diary is ultimately a tale of two halves. The first half of the film merely follows Tsutomu himself as he goes about his annual routines, planting, harvesting, storing, preparing and cooking month by month, as the seasons allow and require. Throughout this time the audience is treated to the gentle visuals of the Japanese countryside. The cinematography is relatively simple and unpretentious, but the view of nature provided is all the more gorgeous for its simplicity, not to mention the delectable dishes Tsutomu produces. The storytelling is delivered not only through Tsutomu’s actions but also through the overlaid narration of his writings. This is The Zen Diary at its best, demonstrating the beauty of a lifestyle close to nature without needing to preach or compare to other ways of life.
Come the second half of the film, however, there is a change in approach with Tsutomu having to deal with a death in the family as well as a deterioration in his own health and the troubles that follow. From here, a different sensibility begins to pervade with Tsutomu’s generous and hardworking way of being first contrasted with some rather hapless and selfish relatives and then challenged by his own shaken psyche.
In some ways, an injection of drama and some tension was perhaps needed as the more idyllic and unhurried style the film opens with could not have sustained it for the entire runtime, and it is not to say that style dissipates completely. Indeed, the shift comes at the exact time that it was needed to impel the growth of Tsutomu’s character. However, that departure by The Zen Diary’s second half leaves the film feeling almost lesser, failing to hold attention with the same ease as the first, and it may be that more considered scripting choices could have channeled Tsutomu’s growth in a way that retained in full the film’s original sensibilities.
