'Tony' review: Excellent cast liven this scrappy down-to-earth biopic
- Nate Adams
- 3 hours ago
- 4 min read
Courtesy of A24
A small-scale slice of life that neither sensationalizes its subject nor attempts to cram an entire lifetime of accomplishments into two hours, Matt Johnson’s excellent “Tony” puts the spotlight on the late Anthony Bourdain during a period when things were only beginning to take shape. The movie unfolds over the course of a single summer, a tiny chapter in a life and career that would eventually span decades and continents, and its willingness to stay within those confines is precisely what makes it such a refreshing departure from the traditional biopic.
Led by an excellent ensemble, none more so than “The Holdovers” breakout Dominic Sessa, “Tony” introduces Bourdain at 19 years old, when he has aspirations of becoming a writer and seemingly no interest in becoming a chef. After being rejected from a coveted writing fellowship, he ships off to Provincetown, Massachusetts, circa 1975, ostensibly looking for answers but mostly chasing after a girl.
It’s interesting because, myself included, most people probably think of Bourdain as a chef first. “Tony” catches him long before that identity has taken hold, at a moment when he is experiencing the sort of crisis familiar to anyone standing on the precipice of adulthood and realizing they have absolutely no idea what comes next. For most of the movie, Tony considers himself a writer despite working as a dishwasher at a lowly restaurant on the docks called The Shipwreck, which is run with stern discipline by an owner who only goes by Chef (a great Antonio Banderas).
How their paths cross is anything but ordinary, though Tony is ultimately given a fresh start by Chef after a drunken night doesn’t exactly go according to plan. Then again, Tony doesn’t really have much of a plan anyway. His whole thing is flying by the seat of his pants, hoping something will eventually stick.
That includes his pursuit of Nancy (Emilia Jones), someone he barely knows but is endlessly infatuated with, going so far as to lie through his teeth about his intentions and, increasingly, who he actually is. Tony desperately wants to amount to something, anything that might make a name for himself, but he hasn’t yet developed the discipline necessary to get there. There’s an amusing contradiction to Sessa’s performance in the way Tony carries himself like someone convinced greatness is right around the corner while doing almost everything possible to avoid actually earning it. Nonetheless, Chef gives him a place to sleep on his hammock, waking him every morning with a bucket of water to the face and slowly introducing him to a world Tony doesn’t yet realize will change the trajectory of his life.
There’s also a merry band of cooks and misfits in the kitchen who share an authentic camaraderie that can be difficult to replicate on screen. The most notable is Sal (Leo Woodall, terrific), a coked-up, womanizing hothead who naturally becomes someone Tony admires. Some of those bad habits begin rubbing off on him as he continues chasing after Nancy, and there’s a brief moment early in the film when Tony asks for drugs that initially feels like an ominous sign of where the movie might be headed. For a second, “Tony” appears poised to fall into the same trap as countless other biopics, using addiction as a giant flashing sign pointing toward the troubles we already know await its subject.
Instead, “Tony” develops a vibrant sense of place and identity, helped enormously by Johnson assembling an incredible cast capable of elevating even the movie’s smallest character moments. This isn’t your standard, run-of-the-mill exploration of Bourdain’s grand life. For that, Morgan Neville’s insightful documentary “Roadrunner: A Film About Anthony Bourdain” already exists. The beauty of “Tony” is that you don’t really need a connection to Bourdain, or even much knowledge of who he will eventually become, to get the full experience of the film.
That’s thanks in large part to Sessa, who gives Tony a theatrical swagger that feels entirely his own rather than attempting an impersonation of the Bourdain audiences already know. He’s funny, frustrating, charismatic and, most of the time, full of shit. We spend much of the movie hoping Tony will just tell the truth, make a better decision or stop trying so hard to project an image of the person he thinks everyone wants him to be. Yet Sessa never loses the vulnerability underneath that bravado. You can see a kid trying on different versions of himself, waiting for one of them to finally fit.
The film moves at a brisk pace, capturing the volatile pressure-cooker environment of the kitchen before casually jettisoning to a sequence on the beach where Chef is shooting shotgun shells at tuna in the ocean. Johnson finds humor and warmth in those eccentricities without sanding down the rougher edges of the people inhabiting this world. Provincetown feels lived-in rather than constructed as an elaborate origin story, and the kitchen becomes less a convenient piece of Bourdain mythology than a place where Tony unexpectedly discovers something resembling purpose.
That distinction is important because “Tony” never treats its subject as though he already knows he’s Anthony Bourdain. There are no giant winks toward the audience every time he touches a knife, tastes something interesting or strings together a sentence. Johnson understands that the more compelling story is watching this scrappy, arrogant, insecure young man stumble into experiences that will shape him without realizing their significance in the moment.
“Tony” finds the humanity in the scrappy upstart before the bestselling books, television shows and globe-trotting adventures made Bourdain an icon. Don’t go in expecting the full biopic treatment, complete with exhaustive childhood backstory, addiction struggles and a greatest-hits tour through everything audiences already know about him. In that regard, “Tony” is a refreshing change of pace from the norm, a movie more interested in capturing one formative summer than explaining an entire human being.
And maybe that’s the best compliment you can give it. For two hours, Anthony Bourdain isn’t a cultural figure whose eventual fate hangs over every scene. He’s just Tony, a cocky 19-year-old chasing a girl, washing dishes, telling lies, making mistakes and trying to figure out what he wants to do with his life. We know where the road eventually takes him, but “Tony” understands that he doesn’t, and there’s something genuinely exciting about watching him take those first few steps.
Grade: B+
TONY is now playing in theaters.
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