‘Tony’ Review – A Beautiful Look At Growing Up And Finding Your Purpose 

Anthony Bourdain probably would have hated a movie that treated him like a saint. Thankfully, Tony has no interest in doing that as Matt Johnson’s film opens with a quote from Bourdain himself: “I Was – To Be Frank- A Spoiled, Miserable, Narcissistic, Self-Destructive And Thoughtless Young Lout, And Badly In Need Of A Good Ass-Kicking!” It’s a pretty good mission statement for the movie as it states rather openly who our protagonist is as a person. Tony is about a young man who is funny, intelligent, charismatic, and impossible to be around. In 1976, a 19-year-old Anthony Bourdain wants to become a writer, although he seems far more interested in telling people that he is going to become a writer than actually doing anything to prove it. After failing to secure a writing fellowship, losing the girl he wants to another man, and generally making one bad decision after another, Tony ends up in Provincetown for the summer. With nowhere else to go, he takes a job in a restaurant owned by a Brazilian-born chef played by Antonio Banderas… that decision changes his life.

Dominic Sessa gives what might be one of the best performances of 2026. He plays Bourdain as someone who is constantly trying to stay ahead of the truth about himself. Tony lies to other people, lies to himself, and then seems genuinely surprised when reality catches up with him. He is arrogant, insecure, self-destructive, funny, and often deeply unpleasant. Sessa never tries to sand down those rough edges to make him more conventionally likable, which is exactly why the performance works. You can see the intelligence in Tony, but you can also see how much he wastes it. You can see the charm, but you can also see how often he uses it to get away with things. There is always something slightly pathetic underneath his confidence. Just from the way he talks and even carries himself, you can see him not playing someone but inhabiting them. 

That honesty makes Tony much more refreshing than the average biopic. The film is not interested in turning Bourdain into a misunderstood genius who was secretly perfect all along. It understands that the person who eventually became a beloved writer and television personality was once a spoiled, aimless kid who needed to be knocked down a few times. The film is mean to him in a way that feels affectionate rather than cruel. It doesn’t sing his praises, but instead it looks at him and says, yes, this guy was kind of an asshole. Bourdain probably would have liked that.

The opening stretch does a good job establishing exactly where Tony is in his life. He interviews for a writing fellowship and immediately begins making things up, confidently inventing a story on the spot. Afterwards, he tells his friend that the interviewers were idiots and that he has the fellowship in the bag; spoiler: he doesn’t. When he later sees Nancy (Emilia Jones), the woman he is interested in, he tries to talk to her even though she makes it fairly clear that she isn’t interested. She leaves for Cape Cod for the summer, and Tony, after finding out that he didn’t get the fellowship, follows her there anyway. He discovers she has a boyfriend, gets drunk, spirals, and eventually ends up with no money and nowhere to go.

He ends up getting hired at a seafood restaurant, and this gives him the first real structure his life has had in a while. It also gives the movie its best relationship. Antonio Banderas brings a calm authority to the role of the chef, and his chemistry with Sessa is excellent. Their mentor-mentee dynamic never feels too neat or sentimental. The chef sees something in Tony, but that doesn’t mean he magically understands him or excuses his behavior. Tony needs someone who will actually challenge him, and the relationship works because the film understands that mentorship is often less about giving someone answers than forcing them to confront the person they are currently choosing to be.

The kitchen itself is where the movie really starts to come alive. There is a roughness to the film’s depiction of restaurant work that suits Bourdain perfectly. The noise, exhaustion, insults, camaraderie, and constant pressure all become part of the environment. It’s not like Tony is suddenly transformed into a great person because he starts working in a kitchen, quite the opposite really. But for the first time, he finds a place where his energy and his ability to survive chaos might actually be useful.

Leo Woodall is also a scene stealer as Sal, a tattooed troublemaker who Tony becomes drawn to. He is the kind of person who should be exhausting, yet Woodall gives him enough charm that you understand why everyone keeps letting him back into the room. The character could have easily become a collection of obnoxious quirks, but Woodall makes him feel like a real guy who has somehow managed to turn his own dysfunction into a personality.

The movie is very tender, but it is also electric and rough around the edges. That combination feels right for its subject. There is an emotional warmth to the friendships Tony forms with people, but the film never pretends that these relationships are going to fix him. The people around him can offer him a place to belong, but they cannot make him grow up. That is why Tony works better as a coming-of-age story than it does as a traditional biopic. The movie is about a young man who hasn’t figured out what he wants from his life. The fact that he will eventually become Anthony Bourdain is important, but the film doesn’t constantly point toward his future and ask us to applaud every early sign of greatness. It is more interested in the person he is right now, before he has become the man so many people know.

There is something so moving about watching Tony discover that he might actually be good at something. Seeing him finally find an environment where his particular combination of intelligence, anger, curiosity, and stubbornness can be directed toward something productive leads to the film’s ending, which left me with a huge smile on my face. It is a beautiful conclusion because it isn’t the “conclusion” of Tony’s story, but really it’s the beginning of Anthony Bourdain’s career. After spending so much of the movie watching him lie, fail, lash out, and sabotage himself, seeing him find a sense of purpose is genuinely satisfying.

Tony is funny, beautiful, and occasionally quite rough. It is also one of the most honest biopics I’ve seen in a long time. The film understands that respecting a real person does not mean pretending they were always admirable. Bourdain was complicated, and this movie allows him to be complicated. It gives him his intelligence and his charm, but it also gives him his selfishness, arrogance, dishonesty, and immaturity. That is what makes the film feel alive. There are plenty of biopics that want to convince you their subjects were secretly extraordinary from the moment they were born. Tony is more interested in a 19-year-old who has no idea what he is doing and is lucky enough to stumble into something that might save him from himself. As a portrait of Anthony Bourdain, it feels honest. As a coming-of-age story, it is even better.

This is a film about finding purpose in an unlikely place and discovering that becoming the person you want to be usually begins with admitting who you actually are. Dominic Sessa gives an extraordinary performance, Antonio Banderas is terrific opposite him, and the film understands that sometimes the best way to honor someone is to let them be a complete pain in the ass. Tony is a terrific film. One that should be remembered for ages to come, quite like its subject.

Tony will debut exclusively in theaters in New York and Los Angeles on August 7, 2026, courtesy of A24. The film will expand nationwide on August 21st.