Il Duce v. Il Douché. The year 2016 found Anthony Bourdain in Rome for CNN’s Parts Unknown, and as luck and misfortune would have it, 2016 would turn out to be an inauspicious year, both for Bourdain and for the world. Bourdain’s home country was about to elect a new leader. And history was about to repeat.
I watched the infamous Parts Unknown episode Rome for the first time just a couple of nights ago. I was dreading it. I had put it off for, well, ever since I first immersed myself in the Tao of Bourdain, many years ago now, during a long-haul overnight flight down the length of Africa from northern Europe, looking for something on my iPad to watch. I had recorded an episode of Parts Unknown at random, having known Bourdain by name and reputation only. I had done some work with CNN that year, and it was impossible at the time to have anything to do with CNN and not know the name Bourdain. In a few short years he emerged to become an indelible presence at the network, both in front of the camera and behind the scenes. Parts Unknown had become the news network’s most watched, most talked-about program. By far.
Even now, all these years after his passing on June 8, 2018, the name Bourdain carries special import at the now beleaguered news channel.
I don’t know what I expected to see in Rome, but not that exactly.
The spectre of Asia Argento — that’s the one and only time I’ll mention her by name here — permeates every single frame and hangs over the hour like an all-enveloping fog, and the resulting effect is, well, weird and oddly discombobulating.
As sidekicks go, it’s hard to see how this person — the actress daughter of horror schlockmeister Dario Argento, a filmmaker who, for my taste and perhaps this is just me, made some of the ugliest, nastiest, most heartless and pointless films ever made — warranted so much attention when so many of Parts Unknown’s other sidekicks evolved over the years to provide Bourdainophiles with some of their fondest and most warmly recalled memories of the man and who he was. Eric Ripert, Zamir Gotta, Darren Aronofsky, the list goes on — sidekicks who were, by turns, witty, warm, perceptive, loquacious, receptive, thoughtful, introspective, given to listening, and giving of other people. She was none of those. Bourdain spends time in the episode with the enfant terrible filmmaker and fellow New Yorker Abel Ferrara — perhaps you know him from such neo-noir film works as Bad Lieutenant (1992), Ms .45 (1981) and King of New York (1990), chronicles of violent crime in urban settings, but with spiritual overtones — who considered the Eternal City his second home. Frankly, I could have used more of him and less of her, but that is not the episode Bourdain set out to make. (The whole sorry chapter of Rome gets thorough treatment in both Tom Vitale’s personal tell-all In the Weeds and Laurie Woolever’s definitive Bourdain: The Definitive Oral Biography; Woolever was Bourdain’s longtime personal assistant and Vitale directed and produced the episode in question. In the many, many lists of Bourdain followers’ favourite episodes, Rome rarely rates a mention, and it’s easy to see why.
Food, the raison d’être of Bourdain’s TV persona — in the beginning, anyway — gets short shrift here. In a 22-page account of Bourdain’s three visits to Rome, for A Cook’s Tour, No Reservations and Parts Unknown posted on the all-encompassing foody site Eat Like Bourdain, food in the Eternal City gets scant mention, other than brief references to Osteria dal 1931 (“By Bourdain’s standards, it’s a light meal of antipasti (with) prosciutto and artichoke, followed by an entree of cheese and basil ravioli”) and Trattoria Morgana, where he dines on ragù fettuccini and Roman snails with filmmaker Ferrara and Ferrara’s family.
Together they share a lively conversation about the clash of cultures between Italian and American dining, the joys — and perils — of raising a family, and the life ritual growing old with grace and wisdom.
As I say, I could have used more of Ferrara and less of, well, her.
For me, the biggest surprise of the hour, a reminder — once again, yet again — of how, if anything, Bourdain’s Parts Unknown’s programs have become even more relevant over time, Rome holds a lens to the dark underbelly of fascism and the ruinous rule of dictator Benito Amilcare Andrea Mussolini and its warnings for us today. Think of it as Il Duce vs. Il Douché.
After leading Italy into a catastrophic war that saw much of Italy razed and flattened, Mussolini was summarily executed by partisans in the village of Giulino di Mezzegra in northern Italy in April 1945; his body was taken to Milan and hanged by the feet from a metal girder in a suburban square, the Piazzale Loreto, after angry crowds beat the body with sticks.
In its most powerful — and eerily prescient — moments, at the beginning and again at the very end, Rome finds Bourdain in a pensive mood, warning against the perils posed by fascism in our own times.
Rome was filmed in the spring of 2016 and aired later that year, after today’s US president The similarities between Il Duce and Il Douché are uncanny; the latter has consciously styled himself after the former, and made no bones about it. In virtually every posed photograph, with few exceptions, he strikes a Mussolini-esque pose.
Bourdain felt strongly about this, as strongly as he felt about anything in the world of politics — anywhere.
“As so many have found throughout history, it’s easy to fall in love with Rome. She is seductively beautiful. She has endured and survived many things. … You fall into a trance here. You think, no matter what, this beautiful dream will last forever, and then suddenly, s**t gets real. Before World War I Benito Mussolini was considered a bully and a crackpot, a short-tempered, ever-pontificating soapbox orator from the small town of Predappio. In time, though, the country was divided and in crisis, It saw itself as besieged by enemies within and without. It needed someone who said he could make Italy great again. He was a man on a horse saying, ‘Follow me.’ And they did.When fascists marched on Rome, the prime minister resigned and Benito Mussolini was appointed leader by the king.
“It can happen [pause] anywhere.
“It happened here.”
Supplementary reading:
https://medium.com/parts-unknown/mamma-roma-2362271634cc