Two years ago, A24, the independent film studio renowned for its distinctive and often critically acclaimed productions, announced its plans for Tony, a biopic centered on a pivotal summer in the life of the late culinary icon, author, and television personality, Anthony Bourdain. The news was met with immediate and fervent reactions, particularly from a vocal segment of his dedicated fanbase online. Many declared with absolute conviction, "Tony would’ve hated this," echoing a sentiment often attributed to those who felt they intimately understood Bourdain’s famously contrarian and anti-establishment spirit. This immediate judgment, rendered before any public viewing, highlighted the deep personal connection many felt to Bourdain and the fierce protectiveness of his legacy.
The question of whether Bourdain himself would have approved of such a cinematic portrayal is complex, a riddle that continues to resonate among those who knew him best. Laurie Woolever, Bourdain’s assistant from 2009 until his death in 2018, and author of the original article this piece is based on, notes the inherent difficulty in predicting his reactions. During her tenure, Woolever quickly learned that Bourdain often defied easy categorization or predictable responses to the myriad requests and opportunities presented to him. His career trajectory itself was a testament to his unpredictable nature. He was known to readily engage in interviews with individuals whose viewpoints he vehemently opposed, demonstrating an intellectual curiosity that transcended ideological divides. He famously made an appearance on Yo Gabba Gabba, a children’s television show, much to the surprise of many. When Vogue magazine extended an invitation for a fashion shoot, an assignment Woolever anticipated he would dismiss with an eye-roll, Bourdain’s response was characteristic in its self-awareness and humor: "For reasons of overweening vanity, I’m eager to do it," he stated, subsequently listing designers he admired. These anecdotes illustrate a man who, despite his cultivated image as a cynical gourmand, possessed a deep well of curiosity, a willingness to embrace the absurd, and an underlying streak of vanity.
Woolever, who consulted for the 2021 documentary Roadrunner, had no direct involvement with the A24 biopic Tony. Instead, during the film’s production and editing, she was immersed in writing her 2025 memoir, Care and Feeding. This forthcoming book explores the unique privilege and challenge of working and living in Bourdain’s immense shadow, a shadow that persisted both during his life and after his untimely death in 2018. This sentiment of living in Bourdain’s enduring wake is shared by many of his collaborators, chefs, television crew members, and publishers. Among them is his younger brother, Chris Bourdain, who also grapples with his brother’s pervasive public persona.
The Enduring Shadow and Reclaiming the Narrative
Anthony Bourdain himself acknowledged the stark differences between him and his brother. In his seminal 2001 book, A Cook’s Tour, he wrote, "My younger brother, Chris, is about as different from me as anyone can be. While I’ve spent my whole life living a hand-to-mouth existence, paycheck to paycheck, letting the good times roll, not giving a fuck…Chris has always been the responsible one, the good son." This familial dynamic provides crucial context for understanding Chris’s perspective on his brother’s legacy and the new biopic.
During a recent lunch at El Chivito d’Oro, a Uruguayan restaurant in Jackson Heights, Queens – a setting imbued with personal history, as Chris and Tony had visited Uruguay on an episode of No Reservations to trace their family roots and famously enjoyed a chivito sandwich – Chris Bourdain shared a telling anecdote. He recounted a recent encounter with neighbors where one woman recognized him as Anthony Bourdain’s brother, prompting another to inquire, "Who was Anthony Bourdain?" The first woman’s immediate response: "He was one of the best chefs in the world." Chris expressed his profound sadness at this reductionist portrayal. "Tony never thought he was the best chef," Chris elaborated. "He described himself as a somewhat skilled cook. He never called himself an expert. He was a brilliant commentator on anything you threw in front of him—travel, politics, anything that caught his interest. He was the modern Mark Twain. They totally missed the point, and that made me very sad."
This mischaracterization resonates deeply with Woolever, who also expresses frustration at the simplification of Bourdain’s complex identity. She cites the widespread misattribution of a viral, fan-written quote ("Eat at a local restaurant tonight") to Tony, and the tendency to reduce him to singular, often sensationalized moments, such as eating a live cobra heart on television or his infamous warning against Monday fish in Kitchen Confidential. Bourdain, by his own admission, was a complex individual who willingly entered the entertainment industry. However, this industry often distills nuanced personalities into digestible bullet points and memes, inadvertently flattening the very depth that made him so compelling.
Tony: A Journey into Formative Years
In contrast to these reductive portrayals, Tony, the A24 biopic, appears to strive for a more expansive and nuanced narrative. The film, rather than condensing Bourdain’s life, builds a narrative framework around elements of a true story, inviting viewers to explore the humble and often unglamorous origins of this near-mythic figure. The film consciously sets its tone from the outset, opening with a quote from Kitchen Confidential that precisely situates the fictionalized young Tony at a critical juncture in his personal development: "I was—to be frank—a spoiled, miserable, narcissistic, self-destructive and thoughtless young lout, badly in need of a good ass-kicking."
The film then unfolds over two hours, depicting a young Bourdain unhappily enrolled in college. The narrative tracks his journey as he pursues a romantic interest to Provincetown, a setting that becomes a crucible for navigating temptations and disappointments. Through the lenses of desire and ambition, the film explores the mistakes he makes as he grapples with the fundamental question of what kind of man he aspires to be. This specific focus on a formative summer aims to demystify the icon, revealing the nascent struggles that predated his fame.
Todd Bartels, who co-wrote the initial script with Lou Howe, articulated the impetus behind focusing on this particular slice of Bourdain’s life. "Tony’s a larger-than-life figure now, a spiritual figure to so many people," Bartels observed. "How did he get from being an angry little shit from New Jersey to this globe-trotting ambassador connecting people through food?" The film seeks to bridge this gap, offering an origin story that illuminates the path from an unformed youth to the celebrated personality.
Reactions to the Film: Grief, Skepticism, and Artistic Interpretation
Chris Bourdain had an early opportunity to view Tony. Despite acknowledging descriptions of the film as "a touching and heartwarming story," he confessed he wasn’t ready to see it, and remains unsure if he ever will be. His skepticism is palpable, laced with his brother’s characteristic wit: "What is it, Ratatouille meets The Karate Kid? If he were to ever hear such words associated with anything to do with him…I think Tony would have hated the entire idea of this film."
This sentiment mirrors the broader online discourse that has intensified as the film’s premiere approaches. While there is undoubtedly "plenty of happy anticipation," the "online grumbling" echoes the reactions that preceded the 2021 documentary Roadrunner. Woolever expresses irritation at this "premature naysaying" and the "audacity it takes to render a verdict before seeing the work."
Having seen the film twice, Woolever offers a nuanced assessment. She praises Dominic Sessa’s performance as "wonderfully naturalistic," noting his "alternately swaggering and awkward gestures and expressions and body language" that momentarily evoked the presence of Bourdain himself. Sessa, with his "impossibly lean physique" and comfortable portrayal in 1975-era costuming, is seen as a fitting choice, with Woolever predicting that Bourdain’s inherent vanity "would in no way be offended" by the depiction. The film is also lauded for its "solid jokes that get at kitchen life and Tony’s specific interests," and its deft capture of his "lifelong pursuit of the approval and protection of strong women."
However, not all aspects align perfectly with Bourdain’s known sensibilities. Tony famously "abhorred a neat wrap-up" in his own television shows, a characteristic that makes Woolever imagine his "vocal objection to the narrative’s sunny resolution." This highlights the inherent tension in creating a narrative arc for a life that often resisted conventional storytelling.
The Unknowable Verdict and the Burden of Legacy
Following a preview of the film, Woolever posed the critical question to Michael Steed, an Emmy-winning producer who collaborated with Bourdain for years and was with him in France at the end of his life: "How would Tony have felt about Tony?" Steed’s response was a poignant rhetorical question: "Is there any biopic that the subject would actually like?"
Steed openly acknowledges the anger often felt by those left behind by suicide. He admits to briefly considering a "cosmic revenge" by creating work he knew Bourdain would have despised. "When I was in a really angry place," Steed recounted, "I imagined writing a Broadway musical based on Parts Unknown, and devoting an entire season of Mind of a Chef to Guy Fieri." These raw sentiments underscore the deep emotional impact of Bourdain’s passing and the complex ways in which grief manifests.
Woolever identifies Steed’s anger, Chris’s reluctance, and the skepticism of certain superfans as "variations on grief." The underlying desire, she suggests, is a universal longing for Bourdain to still be alive, offering his unique perspective on an increasingly chaotic world, rather than having others attempt to make sense of him. The constant question for many remains: what would he say and do about the violence and unpredictability of life in the coming years?
Despite the inherent impossibility of knowing Bourdain’s true reaction, the question was put to director Matt Johnson, known for his 2023 feature film BlackBerry, which offered an amped-up account of a tech rags-to-riches-to-rags story. Johnson, who appeared "cheerfully unaffected by the discourse" surrounding fan skepticism, acknowledged the pervasive "Tony would have hated this" quote. He conceded that "there are probably elements of this movie that, were he to put it on, he’d be cringing, but even if he left the room, I’d like to think that he’d be watching through the crack of the door, saying, ‘While this is factually incorrect, it is metaphorically true.’ My job with this or any story I tell is to be as curious and truth-seeking as I can possibly be." Johnson’s approach suggests a focus on capturing an emotional or thematic truth, even if it necessitates deviations from strict factual accuracy, a common artistic license in biographical narratives.
Ultimately, how Anthony Bourdain would regard Tony remains "a riddle that answers and negates itself, like his tattoo of a snake eating its own tail." The very existence of the film is predicated on his absence. If he were still here, actively shaping narratives and exploring the world, there would be no need for a film to dissect his origin story or quantify his vast influence on food and travel. For those closest to him, like Woolever, the professional challenge of grappling with his legacy is deeply intertwined with personal loss. The hypothetical trade-off is stark and poignant: instead of writing essays analyzing a biopic, she might still be collaborating on a new book with him, managing his appointments, stocking his fridge, and arranging fresh flowers in his apartment, creating a welcoming sanctuary for his return after a long journey. The opportunity to resume those mundane yet profoundly meaningful acts is one she would "trade a lot for."
The Tony biopic, therefore, is more than just a film about a famous person; it is a cultural touchstone that forces a re-examination of a beloved figure’s complex identity, the enduring impact of his life and death, and the collective process of memorialization in the digital age. It navigates the treacherous waters between historical fidelity and artistic interpretation, all while contending with the fervent emotions of a fanbase and the quiet grief of those who knew him best. The film’s eventual reception will undoubtedly contribute to the ongoing conversation about Anthony Bourdain’s multifaceted legacy, a legacy that continues to evolve long after his departure.
