theironcupcake’s review published on Letterboxd:
"Making bean paste is all about heart, sonny."
Women Film Editors #124: Tina Baz
At the end of every month, I feel as though I wander through a fog while I figure out which of Criterion Channel's expiring films are most necessary, so it's lovely when a light points the way. My fellow reviewer Christina praised the poignant beauty of Sweet Bean, and I was convinced that I've been neglecting the director Naomi Kawase for far too long.
There's something particularly wonderful about sharing the joy of cooking, isn't there? Recipes change with each person's history; the difference could be a key ingredient, a garnish, the time spent in the kitchen or how a dish is arranged to be served, but each cook makes a meal her own. Food is culture passed down from individual to individual, across generations, a bond that can bring a community together or create a new one where none previously existed. A means to caring for others in new ways, sharing personal stories to bring lives closer together. Through trial and error, with the experience of a lifetime, favorite flavors are revealed. Each bean in Tokue's pot is like a cherry blossom on the trees outside Sentaro's shop or each note trilled by Wakana's pet canary; or, perhaps, like a delicate brushstroke. In synthesis those petals, those melodies, all those little flecks of color create an exquisite work of art. And so it is too for the an paste that makes the dorayaki pancakes complete.
I'm reminded of how I felt when I revisited Tsai Ming-liang's What Time Is It There? recently - when a film really works well, two hours seem like the blink of an eye.
"When I cook the an, I always listen for the stories the beans tell. It's a way of imagining the rainy days and sunny days the beans have seen. What breeze blew across the beanstalks? Listen to the story of their journey. Yes. Listen to them. I believe that everything in this world has a story to tell. Even the sunshine and the wind, I think you can hear their stories."
