The doc provides insight into Bourdain’s younger life—perhaps, notably, a debilitating heroin addiction that Bourdain quit cold-turkey. But Neville’s film really takes off at the moment Bourdain—rather unexpectedly—achieved celebrity: following the publication of his first, bestselling book Kitchen Confidential: Adventures in the Culinary Underbelly. Through personal footage as well as content from his numerous, award-winning TV docuseries—and intimate conversations with the people closest to Bourdain professionally and personally (widow Ottavia Bourdain, chef Éric Ripert, cinematographer Morgan Fallon, artist David Choe among others) Roadrunner looks at a bold, celebrated career, multiple marriages, fatherhood—and ultimately, tragedy. With more immediacy than the Emmy and Peabody-winner’s shows (often authorized invasions of privacy), the doc presents Bourdain as a beguiling web of contradictions: He’s callous and tender. He’s arrogant and modest. He’s living a fantasy and uncommonly in touch with brutal reality. In the wake of Kitchen Confidential, he seemed allergic to the idea of fame; he’d later embrace it, some would even say a little too much in his final years. Bourdain was a cinephile (a favorite was ApocalypseNow), and maybe the most inspired stroke of artistry from Neville is in montage, utilizing flashes of tragic, insatiable film mavericks like Aguirre: the Wrath of God and 8 1/2. It’s a savant move with an undeniably psychological effect. There’s been some talk of controversy surrounding the use of deepfake AI technology to seamlessly incorporate words that Bourdain wrote but never actually said into the film’s modest narration. Also a hot topic is the concision of examining Bourdain’s late-life and relationship with Italian star Asia Argento. Roadrunner makes some brazen choices that don’t always sit right, they will be debated—and it’s important to note that the picture succeeds unambiguously in capturing the spirit and psyche of a wildly creative, troubled icon. The endmost stretches of Roadrunner are, simply and inevitably, devastating. In the final moments of Won’t You Be My Neighbor, Neville masterfully echoed the legacy of subject Fred Rogers in asking his interviewees—and his audience—to honor the people who’ve helped us in life. The effect was stomach-in-your-shoes, tears-gushing-down-your-face heart-wrenching— then thrilling and even exhilarating (if only the surprisingly wan and unsatisfying drama A Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood could boast such an effect). The final moments of Roadrunner are a dark inverse: edited with the lightest commanding touch, Neville thrusts us into the headspace of a man who was blocked and alone, a soul in free fall. The effect is uncomfortably intimate, and a filmmaking bullseye. In the spirit of its subject, Roadrunner isn’t easy viewing; it’s relentlessly entertaining and sometimes frustrating—and mostly, it’s brilliant. Running time: 118 minutes Rated R From Focus Features, Roadrunner: A Film About Anthony Bourdain is now in theaters. Next, this memorial playlist for Anthony Bourdain still moves us.
