Get outside and touch grass for Tony. Do wild shit, take that cliff dive, be with the people you love. Fuck Kissinger.
A bittersweet portrait of a good man. Not the renaissance man, the traveler, the chef, just Tony.
Considering the vast amount of raw footage on display, the narrative was surprisingly coherent and poignant. Little gems filmed in far off places 15 years apart appear for seconds on screen like missing puzzle pieces, reliably, minute after minute. The edit has a deep bedrock of connective tissue, hindsight and context that most documentary films can only dream of achieving. And yeah, you’re gonna cry.