‘Batali: The Fall Of A Superstar Chef’ Glosses Over Some Of The Worst Aspects Of Mario Batali’s Toxic Behavior

Batali, The Fall of a Superstar Chef, streaming on Discovery+, chronicles the career of Mario Batali, a charismatic and telegenic chef who was one of the most prominent figures to face the consequences of his actions during the early days of the #metoo movement. A story like this has a lot of moving parts — Batali is responsible for his actions, but they unfold in the context of an industry and a society that insulated him from the consequences of those actions for far too long. 

Batali is a single episode that runs an hour and forty-two minutes. It is an exception among documentaries in that this topic would have been better served by a longer running time and or a multi-episode arc. There are at least four different stories fighting for prominence in this documentary: Mario as a persona/personality, the cult of celebrity chefs that exploded in the Aughts, the pervasive culture of harassment in the restaurant industry, and the comprehensive inability of our criminal justice system to hold sexual predators accountable. 

Complicating things further is the documentary’s engagement with the Spotted Pig, a gastropub in the West Village that was celebrity flypaper. Batali was an investor in this restaurant, and he used it as his personal rumpus room; the private third floor room of the Spotted Pig was nicknamed the “rape room.” Surprisingly, this documentary does not mention. 

The Spotted Pig plays a central role in this documentary, and warrants a documentary of its own. A symbiotic relationship with celebrities was the business model for The Spotted Pig. The gen pop flocked to the Spotted Pig, hoping for a glimpse of Kanye West or Ryan Gosling while they nibbled on their $19 grilled cheese sandwiches; in return, The Spotted Pig offered what amounted to a safe space for bad behavior for VIPs. 

The specific pathology surrounding The Spotted Pig points to maybe the biggest unexplored question in this documentary: evidence suggests that one of the biggest perks of fame for some is the opportunity to commit sexual assault without consequences. The entire career of the late Jeffrey Epstein and his fellow travelers on the Lolita Express point in this direction, as does George H. W. Bush’s “David Cop-a-feel” phase, not to mention the famous words of a certain 2016 presidential candidate who observed “When you’re a star, they let you do it.” Given our broader fascination with celebrity and celebrities, it is sobering to consider that one of the hallmarks of this status for some celebrities is the power to victimize more vulnerable people without consequence. 

As for Mario, the documentary feels oddly thin on its subject as a person or chef. We are told that he is charismatic, and a talented chef, but we see very little evidence of either. The documentary does not mention Del Posto, which might have been the most Mario of his various restaurants. 

Some of the sources for the documentary refer to Batali’s assaults happening in the context of a pervasive culture of sexual harassment in the restaurant industry. This is something the restaurant industry has in common with the worlds of finance, sports, higher education, high tech, and just about any other industry you care to name. At the same time, I think it is fair to assert that toxic masculinity has often been construed as a feature rather than a bug among chefs. The popularity of Hulu’s The Bear might suggest that TV viewers continue to find these personalities compelling, as long as they don’t have to work for them. 

One real strength of the documentary is the attention it gives to the journalists who put the pieces together to build a case against Batali. We hear from Julia Moskin and Kim Severson of the New York Times, as well as Irene Plagianos, a freelance journalist who reported on Batali’s pattern of behavior for Eater.com. It’s not hard to imagine a Spotlight style dramatic film focusing on this investigation. These accounts, along with damning accounts from former Batali employees, are the most compelling part of this documentary. 

Sadly, the most universally relevant aspect of this documentary comes towards the end, with the account of a Boston woman’s suit against Batali for allegedly groping her genitals when they posed for a selfie in 2017. Batali’s defense team was granted extraordinary access to the woman’s cellphone and social media records, which revealed that she had not followed a judge’s orders as a juror in an unrelated case, which led the judge adjudicating her case against Batali to dismiss the charges, because the complainant’s “credibility issues.” 

This woman’s story will be all too familiar to anyone who has experienced sexual assault and tried to hold their assailant to account. As the documentary points out at its conclusion, Batali does not currently face any criminal charges for a decade-plus of documented sexual assaults and harassment. It’s hard to know if a documentary like Batali will change much, but it does offer a sobering overview of the rape culture that pervades our lives. 

(Note: Rainn.org  offers a 24/7 hotline 1-800-656-4673 and chat for survivors of sexual assault.)

Jonathan Beecher Field was born in New England, educated in the Midwest, and teaches in the South. He Tweets professionally as @ThatJBF, and unprofessionally as @TheGurglingCod. He also sometimes writes for Avidly and Common-Place.