There's a moment in every legend's origin story where the myth finally touches the ground. For Anthony Bourdain, that moment apparently smells like dish soap, stale beer, and a simmering stockpot - and it happened in Provincetown during the summer of 1972.
That's the premise of Tony, Matt Johnson's new dramedy that hit theaters on August 7 and has spent the last six weeks quietly becoming one of the year's most beloved films. Part coming-of-age tale, part kitchen confessional, it follows a 19-year-old Anthony Bourdain - played with jittery, hungry-eyed magnetism by Dominic Sessa - as he drifts into Provincetown and basically trips face-first into the brutal, beautiful chaos of restaurant life. One summer. One kitchen. One life permanently rerouted.
And audiences are eating it up. The film currently sits at a 7.6 on IMDb and a 7.642 on TMDb, numbers that suggest word-of-mouth is doing what marketing dollars can't. You don't crack a 7.6 on IMDb without people telling their friends. That's a film earning its keep.
Sessa, who broke out in The Holdovers, is the obvious hook here. He's got that lanky, watchful quality that makes him perfect for a kid who hasn't figured out who he is yet - someone who doesn't know he's about to become one of the most recognizable voices in food. Watching Sessa's Tony get swallowed whole by a dinner rush is genuinely thrilling, and the movie wisely never winks at the audience about the future. He's just a kid with a bad haircut and no plan. The legend is still years away.
But here's the thing that makes Tony more than a Wikipedia entry with a soundtrack: Antonio Banderas. The man plays The Chef - no first name needed, thank you - and reportedly devours every scene like a man who hasn't eaten in three days. Banderas as a tyrannical, possibly brilliant kitchen warlord is the kind of casting that sounds insane on paper and feels inevitable on screen. It's the kind of supporting turn that steals movies and awards seasons.
The rest of the ensemble is stacked in ways that suggest somebody had a very good time putting this cast together. Emilia Jones shows up as Nancy, Leo Woodall brings the charm as Sal, and Stavros Halkias plays a character named Stavros, which is either typecasting or genius and I honestly can't tell which. Michael Jibrin, Monica Raymund, and Rich Sommer round things out, with Sommer playing a guy named Pierre - a name that in a 1970s kitchen promises either a brilliant saucier or an absolute menace. Probably both.
At 107 minutes, Tony doesn't overstay its welcome, which is more than you can say for most biopics-in-spirit. Director Matt Johnson has a knack for finding the comedy in desperation, and apparently he's applied that same skill to the specific hell of professional cooking. The genre tag says Drama and Comedy, and everything we know about the real Bourdain suggests that's exactly the right ratio. His whole appeal was always that he was funny about dark things.
What's smart about Tony is what it doesn't do. It doesn't try to cover a whole life. It doesn't do the walk into the sunset, be sure to read the epilogue text routine. It takes one summer, one town at the tip of Cape Cod, one kitchen, and trusts that the alchemy of that moment is enough. Based on the ratings, it is. Which tracks - the best origin stories are never about destiny. They're about a kid who needed a job.
If you've spent the last decade reading Bourdain's books, watching his shows, and missing the guy's voice, Tony sounds like it's less eulogy and more invitation. A chance to watch him before he was him. Before the travel shows and the bestsellers and the impossible charisma - just a 19-year-old on a dish line, getting yelled at by Antonio Banderas, having the best worst summer of his life.
Catch it in theaters while you can. And maybe grab something to eat afterward. It feels like the right way to honor the man.
