Anthony Bourdain is gone, and this documentary won’t bring him back.
You might say to yourself, fine, I just need a taste. Well, even the taste is sour. To watch this isn’t to indulge in never-before-seen footage or experience the refreshingly twisted, pessimistic optimism that made this public personality so popular. To watch this is to be more like Tony—to embrace the uncomfortable hoping to understand.
As we hear from Tony’s close friends and co-workers, we learn about his insatiable curiosity. The small-time chef was not just a chef, but an aspiring writer. The best-selling writer was not just a writer, but a magnetic journeyman. Descriptions like these were not his thing, though. People were. War-torn or five-star didn’t matter; the people there did.
The first half of the movie almost assumes that we know all this. It starts off in a fit, just as Tony’s rags-to-riches story begins, but is otherwise slow and uneventful.
The second half, though, channels the openness of our star, and in doing so magnetizes us to the screen. Watching him describe and experience his wildest dreams (writer, father); watching him live the lows of uncertainty and desperation as his friends are helpless, are moving, if quite painful to watch.
There’s not much to it aside from that, and that is more than enough. This work is a respectful study on a vibrant, if dark and puzzling man. It’ll remind you of the beauty that life offers if you seek it—and the pain of experiencing things that we cannot yet—and maybe never will—understand.