Adapted from a popular Japanese manga novel series, Midnight Diner is actor Tony Leung’s directorial debut, a slightly oddball, open-ended series of minimalist short stories all revolving around an enigmatic chef who runs an all-night diner catering to an eclectic revolving cast of night owl characters who glide ghostlike in and out of this tiny eatery at all hours. The vignettes are clearly more about suggestion and atmosphere than the plot of any sort, sort of like a Jarmusch or Wim Wenders film filtered through a distinctly Chinese sensibility (although the film’s tag line “Savor every journey” sounds like it could’ve been nicked from Eat, Pray, Love).
The stoic fifty-something Shanghai chef at the film’s center offers no menu to his customers. But whatever odd meal his patrons request, he seems to be able to cook it perfectly with nothing short of a magical culinary sixth sense. What’s more, the chef plays a dual role as a sort of silent analyst/sounding board, in the sense that he listens to and sympathizes with the problems of his customers, who run the gamut from models to musicians to a disgruntled policeman. And although there are some serious elements of quirky romance that play out across these segments, one element always abides—food.
The sumptuous shots of the food are certainly part of the overall aesthetic here, and the idea of how food functions as a communal touchstone in bringing all these different personalities to this one tiny, seemingly insignificant place in a vast impersonal metropolis. In terms of discernible purpose, theme, or message, this film probably leaves a bit too much to the imagination. So even if you can’t stomach the hip visual posturing and mesmerizing Zen-like feel, if nothing else Midnight Diner’s gastronomical sophistication will probably at least make you hungry. Optional.