Tag Archives: Leo Woodall

Kitchen Knives Out

Tony

by George Wolf

Among other things, Tony is another reminder that we’d all be better off if everyone’s first job was in a restaurant. It certainly altered the course of Anthony Bourdain’s life, and director/co-writer Matt Johnson makes the most of focusing his biopic squarely in that one eventful summer of 1975.

“Tony” was 19 then, and by his own admission decades later in the Kitchen Confidential memoir, a narcissistic lout in need of a “good ass kicking.” The story of that BTA wakeup call makes for an entertaining coming-of-age tale full of humor, humanity and one righteous clambake.

Dominic Sessa is exceptional as the young Bourdain, who is so caught up in his future writing genius that he lies to everyone about the huge Vassar fellowship that he didn’t get. Following his crush Nancy (Emila Jones) to Provincetown, Mass., Tony is forced to earn his keep by washing dishes at The Flagship restaurant and sleeping in Chef’s (Antonio Banderas) hammock out back.

And so the education begins. While co-worker Sal (Tuner‘s Leo Woodall) schools him on the local women and party life, Chef’s gentle and patient influence nudges Tony to stop pretending and follow his passions.

Sessa, with his frantic hair and brooding intensity, makes the gradual transition frustrating, relatable and heartfelt. His chemistry with Banderas (in a performance perfectly suited for an Oscar nod) is warm and real, providing the film a reliable anchor that does not disappoint.

Johnson (Blackberry, Nirvana the Band the Show the Movie) has been clear that he came to the project with little knowledge of the Bourdain brand. That helps the film avoid undue reverence, and lets Tony’s future accomplishments hang bittersweetly in the air, an unspoken but understood step in this character arc from lout to legend.

Because in the summer of 1975, Bourdain’s future could have taken many different paths. Though the end was tragic, Tony finds a messy, inspiration joy in the beginning, and in the subtle twists of fate that can change lives forever.

Safe Spaces

Tuner

by George Wolf

His first narrative feature may focus on busting into safes, but Oscar-winning documentation Daniel Roher shows some fine natural instincts for cracking the code that makes “romantic thriller” a crowd pleasing genre ride.

The thriller part comes when mild-mannered piano tuner Niki White (Leo Woodall from Nuremberg and The White Lotus) gets lured into a secret life of crime. Niki was a child prodigy on piano, but a diagnosis of hyperacusis (allergic to loud noises) derailed his performing career. Working with father figure Harry Horowitz (Dustin Hoffman) as a piano tuner blessed with perfect pitch, Niki wears noise canceling headphones all day and laments what might have been.

A chance encounter with a shady security team at a high-end mansion leads Niki to show how his hyper-sensitive hearing can be used to open combination locks. So the menacing Uri (Lior Raz) offers Niki the chance to make some big money, just when Harry’s medical bills have started piling up.

Romance blooms when music student Ruthie (Havana Rose Liu) needs her piano tuned (pause for laughter, but she really does). Ruthie is vying for a choice position as an assistant to maestro Marius Maissner (Jean Reno) and doesn’t really have time for a boyfriend…but she and Niki are such an irresistible match!

Woodall’s turn is understated and sympathetic, Liu (Bottoms, Lurker) has a natural presence that gives Ruthie some complex layers and Hoffman is clearly having a ball with some blatant (scene) stealing of his own. All three of their characters seem real from the opening minutes, allowing the film to pull you in with ease.

Roher (Navalny) launches Niki’s two lifelines on a consistently engaging collision course buoyed by the terrific performances, sharp editing (film and sound), effective tension, shocking twists and an unlikely couple we can’t help rooting for. And along the way, Roher and co-writer Robert Ramsey find time to toss in well-placed nods to the rot of “fuck you money,” America’s obscene health care system and the often under-appreciated nature of art.

Yes, Tuner packs a lot into its 109 minutes, so much so that it’s easy to stop wondering about security cams or why Niki paying bills with stacks of cash doesn’t arise any suspicions. You just shrug it off, and that speaks loudly about how well the rest of the film is constructed.

In fact, the slightly contrived, crowd-serviced turns that come in Act Three would elicit a few eyes rolls in lesser films. But by then, Tuner has carved out its own safe space, as a pitch-perfect example of how to make an audience want exactly what you’re going to deliver.