Anthony Bourdain adored “Ratatouille.”
The chef who became famous on television as a peripatetic, adventurous gourmet loved how the animated film “got the food, the reactions to food, and tiny details to food really right,” calling it “the best food movie ever made.”
Another animated movie might have spoken to him on a different level, but he never lived to see it.
If you know only one thing about Bourdain, it’s probably that he died by suicide several years ago. That’s a shame. He was so much more than his demons.
We all are.
The two hosts of this episode, Michael Osborne and Alice Florence Orr, describe their own struggles: him with alcohol, her with anorexia. They talk about how the frenetic environment of a restaurant kitchen can help addicts cope, distracting their minds and bodies.
They’re like all of us, broken in ways big and small. If you’re convinced that you’re not, check your mirror. Maybe there’s a crack you haven’t noticed. Human and frailty are two words forever linked, like yin and yang, cats and dogs, Trump and Epstein.
Acknowledging your frailty makes it easier to look at others with empathy. There but for the grace of god …
I’m not an addict, but I’ve gone overboard on more habits and vices than I care to admit. I don’t have ADHD, except maybe when my wife is talking. We all get depressed and anxious, even if we don’t have Depression or Anxiety. Most great workers are obsessive, even if they don’t have OCD. You might not be on the autism spectrum, but if you’re shy or introverted, you can connect the dots.
Here’s to our mental health
If 25% of Americans say they’re mentally ill, does that mean that 75% of us are delusional? Asking for an imaginary friend.
If you want to know a second thing about Bourdain, appreciate his passion. He was a Foodie, but not a food snob. He honored the brilliance of the very poor to create deliciousness out of thin air (after all, ratatouille was a peasant dish). But he was also in his element with the likes of Paul Bocuse and Daniel Boulud, and was like a child on Christmas morning when he was about to dine at The French Laundry, one of the world’s elite restaurants.
Bourdain joined three other prominent foodies for the gazillion-course French Laundry dinner, and chef Thomas Keller tailored items so that everyone had something unique. Keller even offered his honored guest a special custard: Marlboro cigarettes crunched up into a cream, a nod to one of Bourdain’s addictions.
But mostly the meal was over-the-top luxury.
“This is like driving a Rolls-Royce, naked, in mink underpants,” Bourdain said. A few minutes later, after treasuring yet another bite, he added, “You could die after eating this, cuz it ain’t gonna get any better.”
If you want to know a third thing about Bourdain, recognize his empathy. He sought out people and felt their struggles all over the world, from refugees in the Middle East to coal miners in West Virginia to the oft-exploited souls in the Democratic Republic of the Congo.
Empathy does for your psyche what exercise does for your body. It gives you a healthier life, but you have a lot more aches and pains than apathetic folks do. Overdo it and you can’t get out of bed.
We mourn the persona of Bourdain. But we didn’t know the person, not completely. Judging from this documentary, I’m not sure even his loved ones did.
That’s where “KPop Demon Hunters” comes in.
In the following episode of “Cinema Therapy,” filmmaker Alan Seawright and therapist Jonathan Decker discuss the animated film and how we can harm ourselves and our relationships if we keep too much inside. But opening up carries its own risk: Others might walk away.
“To be truly loved, you have to be seen,” Decker said. “And to be seen, you have to be honest about who you are.”
The film’s inner demons can be a metaphor for anything you’re hiding: sexuality, neurodivergence, a dark past. Sometimes people will reveal a lot about themselves, but stay quiet about whatever they’re most ashamed of.
“This was the story of me trying to deal with my addiction,” Seawright says, “because I kept half-assing it.”
That led him to project his feelings of inadequacy onto others. “This is what I felt like a lot of the time: There were some — very few — good people who deserved to be happy. The rest of us, especially me, deserved to be miserable.”
Decker said our psyches might benefit from guilt and regret because those emotions push us to become better people, but being ashamed is useless.
“If you live long enough, you’ll hurt someone you care about,” he said. “If you live long enough, you will very likely betray your values in some way that you feel ashamed of. If you live long enough, you’ll probably do something or say something that you regret deeply and feel the pull of self-loathing and self-hatred.”
Even if you feel like you don’t deserve happiness, wallowing in shame doesn’t help anyone. “How does your misery serve you or the people that you care about or the world around you?”
Mental health crises can leave us shattered, which I guess is what happened with Bourdain. Maybe the pain was just too much.
Decker brought up another metaphor that will ring a bell with “Ted Lasso” fans: the Japanese art of kintsugi, repairing broken pottery with a mixture that often includes gold powder. The gold helps us appreciate the pottery’s history, scars and all, enhancing its beauty rather than detracting from it.
Sometimes we show empathy to everyone except ourselves. Don’t focus on what’s broken. Focus on what’s golden.
Murphy Slaw
Something old: A Wall Street Journal writer went to the MIT AgeLab and got outfitted with a special suit to help her feel like she was 80. Here’s what she found out.
Something new: This is just glorious, celebrating 50 years of “Bohemian Rhapsody” with a Paris flashmob.
Something borrowed: Blame Donald Trump’s Epstein woes on a time-traveling Joe Biden, Stephen Colbert says. The joke is on all of us.
Something blue: I can’t write a whole mental health column without mentioning that you can always call or text 988 if you’re in a crisis. If your need is less urgent, this is a great list of resources.