You may not recognize Bourdain, the future Keith Richards of the kitchen and globe-hopping TV personality, in the restless-youth chrysalis form presented here. Which young Tony B. will get, in both the literal and metaphorical senses, and eventually emerge as the bad-boy butterfly who will discover his destiny lies behind hot burners and a hatred of brunch. Every morning, Chef wakes Tony with a bucket of cold seawater. It’s Hopeless Fuck-Up Confidential at best and, given the ways liberties start to pile up regarding Bourdain’s actual coming of age, shaggy superhero origin-story fan fiction at worst. I’m not sure we need Bourdain the Man the Show the Movie, either.