Roadrunner: A Film About Anthony Bourdain

It is considered useful

and enlightening and therapeutic

to think about death for a few minutes a day.

What actually happens to my physical remains

is of zero interest to me.

I don't want anybody seeing my body, I don't want anybody--

I don't want a party.

"Reported dead."

Unless it could provide entertainment value to--

I mean, in a perverse or subversive way, you know.

I mean, if you could throw me into a wood chipper and punt--

you know, spray me into Harrods,

-you know, at, uh, -

you know, middle of the rush hour,

that would be pretty epic.

I wouldn't mind being remembered in that way.

["Roadrunner" by The Modern Lovers playing]

What the fuck am I doing here?

I shall explain.

One minute I was standing next to a deep fryer,

and the next, I was watching the sun set over the Sahara.

I realized that one thing led directly to the other.

Had I not taken a dead-end dishwashing job,

I would not have become a cook.

Had I not become a cook, I would never have become a chef.

Had I not become a chef, I never would've been able

to fuck up so spectacularly.

Had I not known what it was like to really fuck up,

that obnoxious but wildly successful memoir I wrote

wouldn't have been half as interesting.

And I'm not gonna tell you here how to live your life.

I'm just saying, I guess, that I got very lucky.

You're probably gonna find out about it anyway,

so here's a little preemptive truth telling.

There's no happy ending.

He committed suicide, the fucking asshole.

How are you gonna make this?

Is it-- is this gonna-- I mean--

Of course what you want to talk about,

that's kind of where the gossip goes, that's kind of--

But it's not really what you want to make.

No, I want to make a film about

why he was... who he was.

You know.

I don't know. That's why I'm here.

Do you know what I mean?

That's why I'm here.

[car horns honking and traffic passing in distance]

Hi. This is Tony at Les Halles, 411 Park Avenue South,

for delivery Monday please.

I need one Spanish onion, one loose carrot,

two shallot unpeeled,

one case frozen fava bean and one case miel de provence.

That'll do it. Thank you.

Where is my fucking fish?

I would never be late.

My cooks would never be late.

How can the fish guy be late?

It's why all chefs are drunks.

It's because we don't understand

why the world doesn't work like our kitchens.

-Oh, hold on. If you guys are hun--

It's just baba ghanoush. It's--

I mean, it's not a very nice display,

-I know Tony. Cool.

: Thanks, baby.

-What would you like? -Um...

-Apple juice. -Apple juice? Apple juice?

Or cranberry. I don't care. Whatever we have more of.

Happiness is a fresh pack.

First thing in the morning.

I mean, before I brush my teeth.

I mean, I roll out of bed, light a cigarette,

stumble into this room, and, uh, I start,

uh, I start writing immediately.

I always use language to get out of trouble.

You know, I found at an early age,

if I made everybody in the class laugh,

that was power.

I came from a household with a lot of books.

In fact, the first book I remember reading was

a book called Why Johnny Can't Read,

which I stole from my mother.

She was anticipating that I would have

a difficulty reading because I was already exhibiting

antisocial tendencies.

Uh, I pinched the book and, uh, basically taught myself

to read, uh, by kindergarten.

And then, you know, my early heroes

were, uh, musicians and-and writers.

The idea that you could have adventures,

no matter how antisocial, and then make them

somehow legitimate by writing something beautiful about them,

that concept took an early hold on me.

I wasn't serious enough about anything

to actually do any writing until '93.

But, you know, when I was given the opportunity, I did it,

and, you know, kept doing it.

: The whole business fills me with terror, frankly.

Hey.

How are you doing, man?

-You guys know each other by now. -Yes.

Let me see if Rocco's over.

What was it about Tony with big knives?

They were never sharp enough.

You know, he's-- he'd just always--

When he came over for Thanksgiving, uh,

I was gonna carve the turkey, and then he took over.

He was very short with me about

how I wasn't taking care of my knives.

-Hey. -Tony saw you when you were just born.

Remember that?

My relationship with Tony

has always been as a writer.

He was such a powerful writer right from the start.

He was on business in Tokyo for the first time.

And he was writing me a series of emails.

He was back in his room, and he-he did

one of those bursts.

"The jet lag wouldn't let me sleep,

"so I crashed late and rose early,

"plunging blindly down dark streets at all hours.

"The streets were unbelievably dense with pedestrians,

"people hanging around, flashing neon,

"flapping banners, more screaming signs,

"pimpy-looking young men in suits and patent leather shoes

"surrounded by dye-blonde Asian women

"in thigh-high boots and micro-mini skirts.

"No one, and I mean no one, would meet my eye

"with a direct gaze.

"I was the quiet American, the ugly American,

"the hungry ghost, searching and searching

for whatever came next."

I loved it. I loved it,

and my wife Karen, who was a book publisher,

was in the living room breastfeeding the baby.

I printed out the email

and I went, "Karen, you have to read this."

Am I allowed to curse?

: Does anybody curse when they talk about this?

I read it and I just went, "That is fucking awesome."

I was like, "Okay,

I'm gonna make him an offer

basically he can't fucking refuse."

He came back and then we sat down.

I said, "So Joel tells me,

you know, you have a lot of stories."

And he goes, "I have so many stories.

I'm so excited to tell them."

He said, "I already have a title for it."

I said, "What's the title?"

And he said, "Kitchen Confidential."

And I said, "I love it. Let's do it."

What do you think about Tony Bourdain anyway?

Yeah, what do you think about that guy?

He's cool. Huh?

- -

It was like, "Will you write this book?"

"Yes."

"Can you write it in eight months?"

"You're damn right I will."

You know, you should talk

to Tony's agent,

Kim Witherspoon.

I don't think Tony was afraid of failure,

and that was hard-wired.

He was the kind of person who thought,

"Well, you know, what the fuck?

Let's just try it and see how it turns out."

Anthony Bourdain, who has worked as a chef

for 28 years, reveals some surprising and disturbing

trade secrets in a new book calledKitchen Confidential.

Chef Anthony says the truth

about bread in a restaurant,

how you should prepare your meat when you order it,

and also the truth about fish