Matt Johnson directed a film about Anthony Bourdain. Now he's being asked to explain how he avoided the biopic curse.
The premise sounds practical—there are three specific techniques that stopped him from making something false and overstuffed, the way most biographical films collapse under the weight of their own earnestness. But the premise itself contains an unexamined assumption, one that has split filmmakers for decades without resolution.
It assumes biopics fail because directors haven't figured out the right method yet, not because the problem is baked into the form itself. A human life cannot be rendered as a narrative with causes and effects, character arcs, a beginning that explains the middle that justifies the end.
People don't actually work that way. Causality is what we impose on life afterward, a story we tell ourselves. Anthony Bourdain didn't become who he was because of three plot points—he became himself through accumulation, contradiction, the slow shift of appetites, the persistence of old damage, the random weight of a conversation with a stranger in Hanoi.
Johnson may have simply made his lie more convincing, which is a different thing entirely from having solved the problem.
Filmmaker Werner Herzog has spent his career drawing a distinction between factual truth and what he calls ecstatic truth, the kind that feels truer than facts precisely because it accepts that biographical reality resists the coherence we're trained to expect. No technique, however elegant, can translate lived experience into three acts without betraying it. Johnson may have simply made his lie more convincing, which is a different thing entirely from having solved the problem. The real issue is whether you're willing to notice the difference.