If you haven't seen it yet, let me save you the trouble and precis it for you.
One very, very cross and shouty Englishman with a strange, pretend posh accent.
Lovely kimono porn.
Lots of raked gravel in swirly patterns.
Lots of beautiful Japanese ladies who walk in teeny tiny steps and who volunteer to kill themselves or begged to be killed, at least once in each episode because they vaguely disappointed someone, or disappointed themselves, and they can't bear the shame.
Lots of very, very cross and shouty Japanese men, at least one of whom does kill himself in every episode, because he vaguely disappointed someone, or disappointed himself, or lost an argument and can't bear the shame.
Houses that consist of seven or eight rooms, none of which have a single stick of furniture in them. Everone sits cross legged on a tiny little wooden mat the size of a dinner plate, while they argue about whose turn it is to kill themselves.
Honestly, I don't understand how Japanese civilisation didn't wipe itself out centuries ago. The rate at which they all volunteer to die for the slightest little reason, I'm surprised they could ever cobble together enough alive people to keep the country going.