Antonio Banderas and Dominic Sessa in ‘Tony.’ (Seacia Pavao/A24)
Who was Anthony Bourdain? He was a cook. He was a TV personality. An inspiration. A cautionary tale. A dry wit. He was a lot of things to different people. When he died by suicide in 2018, he was a crossover star — a thoughtful guest on food shows, a commentator, and in many cases, a window through which to see other cultures, often with a snarky remark. People followed his adventures over several shows made over a nearly two-decade window. Even to those who hadn’t watched his series, he was well known enough to be an amusing deliverer of exposition in The Big Short alongside Margot Robbie and Selena Gomez. And after his death, he’s continued to be a star, a person people who never knew him wish they could have met or been like; I myself have bought an “I miss Anthony Bourdain” sticker from a service industry apparel company. When Henry Kissinger finally died, somehow outside of a prison cell, Bourdain’s writings on the man’s evils were widely shared. People had an idea of who Anthony Bourdain was, or at least what he presented himself as. He was, simply, cool.
But he started humbly, as he wrote and as the new biopic Tony wants to tell audiences. The A24 movie, out today from director Matt Johnson, attempts to forge an origin myth for Bourdain. To its credit, the film isn’t a hagiography. It’s at times fun. But it isn’t sure what it wants to be, and what it wants to say about Bourdain.
This is a 19-year-old Tony Bourdain (only his mom calls him Anthony). This is not the Bourdain who would write the memoir-meets-industry-tell-all Kitchen Confidential, or the snarky and acerbic travel show host, whose curiosity and journeys gave way to a more thoughtful presence. Young Tony Bourdain is, well, a “spoiled, miserable, narcissistic, self-destructive and thoughtless young lout,” as the quote from Kitchen Confidential that opens the film notes. One in need of an asskicking. He’s smart, but not as smart as he thinks he is. And that cocky college student is, despite himself, compelling, even if he is a dirtbag.
Tony, drawn from just two chapters of Bourdain’s still-excellent book, decides to give the lout an arc over one fateful summer. Rather than vacationing in Provincetown with friends who hook him up with a restaurant job as in reality, Tony (Dominic Sessa) impulsively heads there to chase a crush from college, Nancy (Emilia Jones). One drunken night, a solid punch to the face and stuck on an island with no money, he finds himself washing dishes at The Flagship, a seafood dive run by a talented and methodical chef (Antonio Banderas).
It's not quite an origin story, or rich enough to be called a coming-of-age movie, as much as Tony and others talk about the idea of a bildungsroman. The film mostly avoids the traditional biopic arcs and structure — the one or two big winks and nods at “Hey kids, he’s Anthony Bourdain, get it?” are jarring — and for fans of Bourdain’s memoir, the moments taken directly from it are entertaining. The invented would-be romance between Nancy and Tony, with the latter as a perhaps too-determined suitor, is set up as the main narrative arc. Bourdain’s first forays into the kitchen get reframed into a story about a guy trying to get the girl.
Sessa, for his part, is a compelling Tony, never slipping into impersonation. He wears a mask of youthful confidence, which drops when he’s not focused on. Johnson’s camera lingers on those stares of resentment and doubt, or his hungry eyes when he sees the cooks making work look easy. It’s a strong turn that makes it all the more weird that he isn’t that developed of a character. This is young Tony, a proto-Anthony Bourdain the star, but Tony the film seems more interested in his journey to hook up with his crush than learning and growing from those around him.
It’s a cheap move to contrast Tony the film with Kitchen Confidential, but as Bourdain wrote, much of his journey was about what happened next, after this summer; years spent toiling in kitchens in restaurants that failed or kicked him out, finding a work ethic despite his hedonism. That’s the journey that slowly molded him into the guy who would write Kitchen Confidential. Johnson’s script (co-written with three others) feels like it stops just short of starting to tell that story.
The film works best as a hangout movie. Even with Johnson’s reliance on music-driven montages, the film comes alive when it’s just Tony and the rest of the staff in the weeds or drinking beers after work. There’s a natural energy in these scenes that keeps the film going, even when the clearer narrative through line falls flat. A third act bout of drama is well acted but feels unearned given what’s come before.
The supporting cast also works, letting their back and forths give identity to the almost unnamed staff. It's Banderas who ends up as the film's standout. As with Sessa, Johnson's film avoids the usual stereotypes with Banderas' mentor. But the chef, addressed mainly just as that, is the methodical and warm anchor that balances the antics in the film. Some of Tony's best moments come from Banderas calmly ordering the uncoordinated and lost Tony around, or tossing seawater on his face while he sleeps. Like the film at its best, Banderas isn't showy.
But that’s Tony. It’s a well-made, sometimes breezy, hangout movie, a somewhat generic coming-of-age tale that just happens to about a future famous person. Anyone looking for some great insight into how Bourdain became who he was is better off reading (or rereading) Kitchen Confidential. That also works.
‘Tony’ is in theaters now.