Every episode of “The Makanai: Cooking for the Maiko House” is crafted with such precision and care that even a brief visit to its world proves itself to be a rich and rewarding experience.

There is no violence nor betrayal, only subtle arcs and fake-outs. It seems like an entirely different sensibility from most television fare—and it’s a welcome one. ... Can we accept the maiko/geiko path as legitimate high art when the connotation is that it exists purely for the male gaze? If we can take the characters at their words as we absorb the vivid, slow-mo sequences of food preparation, costuming, and rehearsal, as well as all of the ASMR-like sound design highlighting those rituals, then yes.

So light it could be blown over by the flutter of a fan, The Makanai: Cooking For The Maiko House is still as warm and comforting as nabekko dumpling soup. Gorgeous stuff.

If you want to see a pretty straightforward series about two best friends going down different paths, then the gentle drama of The Makanai: Cooking For The Maiko House should fill the bill.

The Makanai doesn’t do much in the way of hand-holding, trusting that audiences will be able to absorb the traditions and relationships that define this society without awkward exposition dumps. As such, it may take a few episodes for viewers to get their bearings amid the intricate rituals, sprawling supporting cast and not-quite-translatable Japanese terms.

The story of young best friends endeavoring to become geishas in modern-day Japan, it offers an inviting glimpse into a unique foreign world—at least, that is, until it bogs down in inert, one-dimensional drama of the most insufferable sort.