‘Tony’ Shows Us One Pivotal Summer in the Charismatic, Tragic Life of Anthony Bourdain

I went to see Tony, the coming-of-age biopic about a young Anthony Bourdain (Dominic Sessa, solid), with a Wikipedia level understanding of his life. He worked in kitchens, became a celebrity chef, then wrote a famous behind-the-scenes tell all, Kitchen Confidential, that catapulted him into the spotlight and helped secure his position as one of the world’s most beloved culinary travel guides. He used his platform to introduce audiences to the cuisines, cultures and people of the world. He had a direct manner and wanted people to love life and food and to explore. And then he killed himself. The last part haunted my viewing of Tony.

Tony  ★★★★ (4/5 stars)
Directed by: Matt Johnson
Starring: Dominic Sessa, Antonio Banderas, Emilia Jones, Leo Woodall
Written by: Todd Bartels, Lou Howe, Matt Johnson
Running time: 106 mins

The movie’s publicity features a quote from Kitchen Confidential, “I was – to be frank – a spoiled, miserable, narcissistic, self-destructive and thoughtless young lout, and badly in need of a good ass-kicking,” which aptly describes the protagonist of Tony. The film tells the story of Bourdain’s 19th summer, when he impulsively follows his high school crush Nancy (Emilia Jones, fetching) to Provincetown, MA during their summer break from Vassar. When she asks him point blank if he followed her, he lies that he is there for the writing fellowship we saw him lose moments before.

Tony lies a lot. In truth, he did follow her there, of course, and when he sees her with another guy, he drinks far too much, gets a little aggressive with an attractive female bartender, and gets himself thrown out by the kitchen staff. He’s robbed while out cold on the sidewalk. Stranded, he winds up washing dishes for that restaurant’s Chef (Antonio Banderas, impeccable) in exchange for a spot on his hammock.

Director Matt Johnson is best known as writer/director (and star) of the independent productions BlackBerry and Nirvanna the Band the Show (and Nirvanna the Band the Show the Movie) but this is his first studio film. He manages to keep it intimate, but leans pretty hard into classic coming-of-age tropes, like following a girl, finding a mentor, and discovering the risks of falling in with the wrong friend. In this case that dodgy acquaintance is the prep cook, Sal (Leo Woodall, perfect), a lizard-brained beefcake whose easy way with the ladies and quick temper make him at once attractive and frightening.

Johnson has made it clear in several interviews that for him Tony is not a bio-pic, nor does it aspire to be one. He sees it as a universal story of a young man’s journey to adulthood. Johnson doesn’t seem to realize that his film can be both, and that his narrow definition does his film a disservice. Indeed, as James Joyce noted, “[I]n the particular is contained the universal.”

Maybe because it is aiming for universality, the film is longer on vibe than substance. Capturing the essence of a life rather than recreating it is best achieved through specificity, which this film lacks when it ventures beyond the kitchen crew. Tony, though, does capture the 1975 P-town groove, largely thanks to a great soundtrack and director of photography Michael Bauman’s ability to capture crowded indoor parties and sweeping seascapes. The restaurant scenes feel chaotic without overindulging in gross-out moments. But Johnson fails to populate his film with fully realized people. Characters beyond the restaurant, even Tony’s paramour, rarely register beyond plot device. It’s possible that Johnson sacrificed specificity for pace. If so, it’s too bad, because it works to great effect when the film has both.

The movie clips along, capturing the feeling of a whirlwind summer. A series of vignettes with Tony and Sal, whom Johnson seems to understand well, have a great arc while showing us a “day in the life” of Provincetown. Johnson has an excellent sense of comedy, much of it achieved through repetition. In one crowd-pleasing motif, Chef splashes a usually hung over Tony in the face with a bucket of seawater every morning to wake him up. It’s funny. We see him do it again and again, until one day Tony wakes up moments before Chef appears with his bucket. It is, after all, a coming-of-age story.

Tony flirts with substance when it moves away from rhythm and montage and lets a scene unfold. This is particularly true when Tony is made to work on his “day off,” helping fill salt shakers with salt Chef harvests from the ocean and Heinz bottles with ketchup Chef makes from scratch. It’s our first tip that the man behind the oysters and fries is more than a cook, and that these small touches may be why he’s still in business. Later, while they barbecue on the beach after an exciting night fishing adventure, Chef tells stories of the old days when everyone would gather for clam bakes and share in the bounty of the sea. Young Tony is exposed to the specificity of food as a reflection of place and people, its connection to community. Tony is still too self absorbed to imagine how these values will shape his future, but we see the seeds being sown.

It bears mentioning that these pivotal scenes feature Chef. Not only is he the only character with a fully developed frontal cortex, he is formed by a master craftsman. If the historical Chef was half as charismatic as Banderas, you can see why he made an impression on young Tony. Banderas’ Chef is at once mysterious and open, experienced and curious, a serious man with abiding confidence and a winning sense of play. Banderas veritably sparkles in the role.

Despite the protestations, the film relies on our at least cursory knowledge of Bourdain. He is the secret ingredient that gives it depth. This film may tell a universal story, but it is not anonymous. On the contrary, it owes any universality to its specificity and the unique, thrilling and tragic arc of the enigmatic Bourdain himself. For those unfamiliar with his life, Tony offers an entertaining, somewhat relatable, but ultimately surface story. It’s a little immature, like its protagonist. For those of us familiar with his ending, watching a young Bourdain lose himself in the pursuit of a woman is utterly heartbreaking.

Perhaps the filmmakers were right to keep it light.