By avoiding the Bourdain we know, Tony finds truth

The first few chapters of Bourdain’s breakout book Kitchen Confidential provide the basis for Johnson’s movie, homing in on the summer when Bourdain learned his first lessons in the kitchen, including a few bad habits. Johnson, who co-wrote the script with Todd Bartels, Lou Howe, and Matthew Miller, strikes a balance between Tony’s stubborn and petulant twentysomething angst, vulnerable moments of humiliation and redemption, and droll one-liners to lighten the mood. The filmmaker, who’s mostly known for comedies like Nirvanna The Band The Show The Movie and BlackBerry, finds a relatively even tone for the script, keeping the drama intact without milking it too much for effect. One of the more dramatic storylines in the movie involves Tony’s mentor in the kitchen, Sal (a fiery, scene-stealing Leo Woodall). He becomes his cool older brother figure, the man about town who seems to have no trouble scoring with younger women and starting fights. But as Tony learns how to survive on the Cape, Sal’s facade fades in the daylight of reality, revealing that the New England bruiser is struggling even more than Tony. 

Those familiar with Bourdain’s work can hear him in their heads when revisiting Kitchen Confidential, so it may take a moment to settle into Sessa’s performance. His voice can’t compare with one with years of wear and tear from barking out orders—the one many of us listened to for hours as Bourdain traipsed around the world. But it doesn’t have to. Sessa’s Tony sounds awkward, as if he were trying to sound older and wiser to impress the skeptics around him who just see a scrawny, smug brat. His doubters get to him, puncturing his macho act, revealing a sensitivity and introspection one wouldn’t find in a surface-level narcissist like Sal. In a similarly surface-level role, Jones’ sweet but stern Nancy is the focus of Tony’s attention, but she’s more of a fantasy, a crush to chase after when you don’t know what you want. Sessa’s version of Tony is here to be the student, not the tour guide. Those duties fall for a time to Woodall’s hot-tempered fuckboy, who encourages Tony’s more impulsive behaviors, and to Banderas’ chef, whose modest dreams are impossible for the restless, runaway Tony to understand. But the chef also teaches him discipline, to get up on time and pursue his culinary ambitions, the kind of direction Tony has spent the entire movie trying to find. 

It would be easy to write Tony off as something Bourdain would despise on principle. But after the documentary Roadrunner ended on such a bitter note, using an AI-generated version of Bourdain’s voice and pointing fingers over who was to blame for his suicide, Tony returns, refreshingly, to the beginning of his story. It doesn’t do so to rewrite its end or try to make sense of his death, but to understand how a bookworm with delusions of grandeur landed in a kitchen that mostly served lobster rolls to tourists, and how those early meals with his kitchen comrades and mentors shaped his ambitions. It gets at the heart of Bourdain’s everyman appeal, the universal need for belonging and purpose, and the struggle to find your voice, both as a young adult and as a writer. Beyond its dutiful biopic services, Tony reminds its audience of the sharp turns and unlikely encounters that can change the course of our lives and give us stories to share over the dinner table.

Director: Matt Johnson 
Writer: Matt Johnson, Todd Bartels, Lou Howe, Matthew Miller 
Starring: Dominic Sessa, Antonio Banderas, Leo Woodall, Emilia Jones, Stavros Halkias  
Release Date: August 7, 2026