By JOCELYN NOVECK
AP National Writer
There are many startling moments in âRoadrunner,â Morgan Nevilleâs rich and moving documentary about the singular culinary storyteller Anthony Bourdain, who tragically took his life at the age of 61.
Hereâs just one that sticks out: a quick scene with a therapist, in Argentina. As Bourdain lies on her couch, cameras rolling for an episode of his show, he describes some frightening psychological urges he has. She asks him if he wants to change, and to feel differently. He replies: âI suspect itâs too late.â
We never learn here why Bourdain wanted to film what seems a genuine therapy session. But it fits in perfectly with the portrait Neville paints of a man who couldnât resist being anything but painfully honest, and painfully public, even when it took him down some dark paths.
It’s also an example of just how much material Neville had to work with. Between Bourdain’s own recordings and voiceovers, copious footage much never seen from the production of his TV travelogues, and countless home movies and photos, it comes to feel like Bourdain himself is narrating his life story. And it’s hard to shake the feeling he already knows what happens, especially when he quips early on: “Here’s a little pre-emptive truth-telling: there’s no happy ending.”
Neville dispenses quickly with the early stuff Bourdain dropping out of college, washing dishes in Cape Cod even his years as chef at Manhattan’s Brasserie Les Halles. It really starts at age 44, when “Kitchen Confidential,” his wickedly funny memoir about the underbelly of the restaurant world, catapults him into stardom and a life as a globetrotting raconteur bold enough to swallow a still-beating cobra heart or a sheep’s testicle.
It’s also an example of just how much material Neville had to work with. Between Bourdain’s own recordings and voiceovers, copious footage much never seen from the production of his TV travelogues, and countless home movies and photos, it comes to feel like Bourdain himself is narrating his life story. And it’s hard to shake the feeling he already knows what happens, especially when he quips early on: “Here’s a little pre-emptive truth-telling: there’s no happy ending.”
Neville dispenses quickly with the early stuff Bourdain dropping out of college, washing dishes in Cape Cod even his years as chef at Manhattan’s Brasserie Les Halles. It really starts at age 44, when “Kitchen Confidential,” his wickedly funny memoir about the underbelly of the restaurant world, catapults him into stardom and a life as a globetrotting raconteur bold enough to swallow a still-beating cobra heart or a sheep’s testicle.
It’s also an example of just how much material Neville had to work with. Between Bourdain’s own recordings and voiceovers, copious footage much never seen from the production of his TV travelogues, and countless home movies and photos, it comes to feel like Bourdain himself is narrating his life story. And it’s hard to shake the feeling he already knows what happens, especially when he quips early on: “Here’s a little pre-emptive truth-telling: there’s no happy ending.”
Neville dispenses quickly with the early stuff Bourdain dropping out of college, washing dishes in Cape Cod even his years as chef at Manhattan’s Brasserie Les Halles. It really starts at age 44, when “Kitchen Confidential,” his wickedly funny memoir about the underbelly of the restaurant world, catapults him into stardom and a life as a globetrotting raconteur bold enough to swallow a still-beating cobra heart or a sheep’s testicle.
It’s also an example of just how much material Neville had to work with. Between Bourdain’s own recordings and voiceovers, copious footage much never seen from production of his TV travelogues, and countless home movies and photos, it comes to feel like Bourdain himself is narrating his life story. And it’s hard to shake the feeling he already knows what happens, especially when he quips early on: “Here’s a little pre-emptive truth-telling: there’s no happy ending.”
Neville dispenses quickly with the early stuff Bourdain dropping out of college, washing dishes in Cape Cod even his years as chef at Manhattan’s Brasserie Les Halles. It really starts at age 44, when “Kitchen Confidential,” his wickedly funny memoir about the underbelly of the restaurant world, catapults him into stardom and a life as a globetrotting raconteur bold enough to swallow a still-beating cobra heart or a sheep’s testicle.