Yutaka Matsushige looks hungry. Honestly, that’s the whole point. For over a decade, fans of the long-running TV series Kodoku no Gurume have watched his character, Goro Inogashira, wander through Japanese alleyways in search of the perfect meal. But The Solitary Gourmet movie, titled Gekijoban Kodoku no Gurume (The Solitary Gourmet: The Movie), isn't just a longer episode. It's a massive, sweeping departure from the small-screen routine we've grown to love since 2012.
The film serves as a celebration of the series’ 12th anniversary. It’s also a personal project for Matsushige, who didn’t just star in it—he directed it and co-wrote the screenplay. That matters. It shifts the vibe from a simple "food of the week" procedural to something that feels like a cinematic legacy.
Searching for the Soup of My Childhood
The plot is surprisingly ambitious. Instead of Goro closing a business deal in a Tokyo suburb and finding a nearby izakaya, the Solitary Gourmet movie sends him on a literal odyssey. He receives a request to find a specific soup that a client remembers from their childhood. This quest takes him from Japan all the way to France and South Korea.
It's a big swing.
Usually, the charm of The Solitary Gourmet is its smallness. We like the tight shots of sizzling meat and the internal monologue about whether to order a second bowl of rice. By taking Goro to Paris, Matsushige risks losing that intimate "salaryman" energy. However, the film leans into the absurdity of a man who barely speaks French trying to navigate high-end and low-end European dining with nothing but his appetite.
One of the funniest things about Goro is his social awkwardness. In the TV show, he’s a tall, imposing man who becomes completely vulnerable the moment he sees a menu. In the movie, this is amplified. Being in a foreign country increases the stakes of his hunger. When you're in a strange land and you don't know the language, a good meal isn't just dinner—it's a survival mechanism and a way to connect with the local culture without saying a word.
Why Matsushige Directed This Himself
Matsushige has often joked in interviews about how much he actually has to eat for the show. He’s thin. He’s over 60. Eating three or four full courses for a single day of filming is physically demanding. You’d think he’d be tired of the character. Instead, by taking the director’s chair for the Solitary Gourmet movie, he has reclaimed Goro.
The cinematography is noticeably different. On TV, it’s flat and functional—perfect for "food porn" but not exactly high art. The film uses wider lenses and more deliberate pacing. It feels more like a travelogue in the vein of a Wim Wenders film than a variety show segment.
👉 See also: Billie Eilish Therefore I Am Explained: The Philosophy Behind the Mall Raid
Wait, is it still funny? Yeah.
Goro’s internal monologue remains the backbone of the experience. It’s that dry, rhythmic commentary that makes us feel like we’re inside his head. If you’ve ever sat alone in a restaurant and overthought your order for twenty minutes, you are Goro. This film validates that specific kind of social anxiety.
The Global Appeal of Solitary Dining
There’s a reason this franchise has exploded across Asia, particularly in South Korea and Taiwan. The concept of hon-bap (eating alone) used to be stigmatized. Goro Inogashira changed that. He made eating alone look like a superpower.
In the Solitary Gourmet movie, the act of solo dining is treated with a sort of religious reverence. When he sits down in a French bistro or a Korean street stall, the world stops. The film emphasizes that Goro isn't lonely. He's solitary. There is a massive difference between the two. One is a lack of company; the other is a surplus of freedom.
The movie taps into a post-pandemic sentiment where people are more comfortable with their own company but crave the physical experience of the world. Goro is our proxy. He travels so we don't have to, and he eats the things we're too shy to order.
Real-World Locations and Authenticity
Just like the series, the film uses real restaurants. This has always been the "secret sauce" of the franchise. They don't use sets. If Goro eats a bowl of noodles in a specific neighborhood in Seoul, you can go there and order the same thing.
This creates a unique type of "gourmet tourism."
✨ Don't miss: Bad For Me Lyrics Kevin Gates: The Messy Truth Behind the Song
Fans have already started mapping out the locations featured in the movie. It’s a bit of a double-edged sword for the restaurant owners. Once an episode airs, or in this case, the movie drops, these quiet local spots are often flooded with fans. But for the Solitary Gourmet movie, the production took care to highlight the soul of these places, not just the food. It’s about the people behind the counter as much as the steam rising from the pot.
Dealing With the "Movie Version" Skepticism
Let's be real: usually, when a 30-minute TV show gets turned into a two-hour movie, it's a disaster. It gets padded with unnecessary subplots or a forced romance. Thankfully, Matsushige seems to hate those tropes as much as we do.
There is no forced love interest for Goro. There is no high-stakes car chase. The "conflict" is simply: Where is the soup? And will I be full when I find it?
The film does introduce more secondary characters than we're used to, but they mostly serve as obstacles or guides to his next meal. The focus remains squarely on the stomach.
One thing that might surprise long-time viewers is the scale. Seeing Goro against the backdrop of the Eiffel Tower feels "off" at first. It’s like seeing your local librarian at a rave. But once he finds a small, tucked-away eatery in a Parisian backstreet, the familiar comfort returns. It proves that Goro’s brand of "the solitary gourmet" is universal. It doesn't matter if it's miso soup or consommé; the emotional resonance of a good meal is the same.
The Evolution of the "Food Genre"
The Solitary Gourmet movie arrives at a time when food media is shifting. We’re moving away from the loud, aggressive energy of competition shows and toward "slow TV" and "healing" content.
This movie is the pinnacle of healing content.
🔗 Read more: Ashley Johnson: The Last of Us Voice Actress Who Changed Everything
There is something deeply therapeutic about watching a man enjoy a meal without checking his phone. Goro doesn't take photos of his food. He doesn't post to Instagram. He just... eats. In 2026, that feels like a radical act of rebellion against digital burnout.
How to Experience Goro’s World Yourself
If you’re inspired by the Solitary Gourmet movie, you don’t need to fly to Paris or Tokyo. The philosophy of Goro Inogashira is accessible anywhere. It’s about the "freedom to eat what you want, when you want."
- Prioritize the "Vibe": Look for places that don't have a line out the door but have a steady stream of locals.
- Order the "Wrong" Thing: Goro often picks the dish that isn't the "specialty" but feels right in the moment. Follow your gut, literally.
- Put the Phone Away: The internal monologue is the best part of the meal. Try to actually taste the layers of the food.
- Don't Rush: Goro treats a meal like a performance. Give yourself an hour to just exist with your plate.
The film is a reminder that while the world is big and often overwhelming, a single bowl of soup can make it feel manageable again. Matsushige has crafted a love letter to the character that made him a household name, and in doing so, he’s given fans a reason to keep being hungry.
What to Watch Next
If you've finished the film, the journey doesn't have to end. You can go back to the beginning of the TV series, which is available on various streaming platforms depending on your region (often Netflix or Viki). There are also "special" episodes that bridge the gap between seasons, often focusing on New Year's Eve meals.
The Solitary Gourmet movie isn't an ending; it's a graduation. It proves that Goro Inogashira belongs in the pantheon of great cinematic characters, right alongside the detectives and superheroes. He’s just a guy who wants a good lunch, and honestly, isn't that all of us?
To truly appreciate the film, pay attention to the sound design. The crunch of the cabbage, the slurp of the noodles, and the clinking of the chopsticks are dialed up to eleven. It’s an ASMR experience that demands a high-quality sound system or a good pair of headphones.
Don't watch this on an empty stomach. You'll regret it.
The movie serves as a perfect entry point for newcomers and a deeply satisfying "thank you" to the long-term fans. It’s quiet, it’s thoughtful, and it’s incredibly delicious. Matsushige has done the impossible: he made a blockbuster about a man eating soup, and he made us care about every single spoonful.