'Don't Die: The Man Who Wants to Live Forever' review: Bryan Johnson's antiaging journey not worth the trip

Antiaging advocate Bryan Johnson in "Don't Die: The Man Who Wants to Live Forever." Credit: Netflix
DOCUMENTARY "Don't Die: The Man Who Wants to Live Forever"
WHERE Netflix
WHAT IT'S ABOUT The documentary "Don't Die: The Man Who Wants to Live Forever" chronicles the antiaging routine pursued by the wealthy tech entrepreneur Bryan Johnson.
It's an exhaustive regimen involving an intense diet, punishing workouts, therapies of all varieties, constant health monitoring, early bedtimes and so much more, to the point where there seems to be no time in the day for anything else.
The veteran filmmaker Chris Smith ("Fyre") follows Johnson, who is now 47, through the stages of this daily agenda.
MY SAY The drive to, as Johnson puts it, "reverse my biological age" is portrayed as an all-consuming obsession. He's turned himself into a human test subject, the modern-day version of the "Operation" game.
There's always another test to have, another body part to monitor, another exercise to pursue, or perhaps a blood plasma transfusion to share with your father and teenage son. The man has made millions and millions — one of his companies bought Venmo, before being bought by PayPal — and it's pretty clear where that money is going.
This is strange stuff and, one supposes, mildly interesting, in the sense that any lifestyle that's so far removed from the norm is mildly interesting.
However, that can only get you so far.
The documentary suffers when Smith tries to deliver what we in journalism call the nutgraf, or the paragraph that succinctly explains the context for the story.
The operating thesis seems to be that Johnson has captured something meaningful about medical care, from the standpoint of prevention and taking proactive action instead of the normal journey in our modern American system: doing relatively little for your health until you get sick, and then getting treatment to alleviate your symptoms.
But he's such an extreme case, and takes so many steps that are far outside the range of relatable behavior, while also being completely inaccessible to anyone who isn't superrich, that the drive to bring it back to regular people simply fails to register.
Smith expends great energy trying to depict how Johnson got to this point in his life. We learn about his bouts with sadness, leaving the Mormon church, his divorce, and the fact that he only has a relationship with one of his three children, his son Talmage.
No amount of normalizing, though, makes any of this easier to process. And the movie does not do anywhere near enough with the scientific community's perspective on Johnson's efforts, despite a cavalcade of talking heads.
So it all comes down to two questions: First, does the thought of standing in Johnson's mansion, watching him obsess over every blood vessel, every muscle, every calorie and every last test reading, seem like a rewarding way to spend just under 90 minutes? And second: wouldn't you be better served going for a walk or a run, and instead worrying about yourself?
BOTTOM LINE: The movie never connects Johnson's bizarre lifestyle to any sort of larger, meaningful idea.
Most Popular
Top Stories





