The Bear dominated this awards season. With awards from the Primetime Emmys, Critics Choice Awards and People’s Choice Awards, The Bear seems like a no-brainer watch. But I will admit, I was initially quite hesitant to give it my time. Over summer breaks I work in a kitchen. Now, it’s a hospital kitchen, so there’s less yelling and screaming for Sharpies, but the energy is still high, and I always end up coming home smelling of turkey gravy. So why in my free time would I watch a show so similar to my loud, grimy job? The short answer: The Bear is just that good.
The Bear is a marvel of storytelling. It’s centralized around the kitchen of a run-down but well-loved Chicago restaurant. Carmen “Carmy” Berzatto is left the restaurant by his late brother who died by suicide and struggled with addiction. What at first seems to be a thoughtful gift, is more of a Pandora’s box. Carmy, a classically trained and decorated chef, is not used to the chaos and disorganization of The Beef; his need for control, instilled by culinary school and time in high-end restaurants, clashes with his brother’s employees who resist his want for change. This resistance, even when some changes would do the restaurant and the characters some good, follows Carmy and his staff for most of the series.
I say most, because the team eventually comes around as Carmy (along with coworker Sydney and sister Sugar) turn the well-loved The Beef into the sleek, updated The Bear. But this transformation is deeper than the physical walls of the restaurant (which they struggle with immensely, hence their multiple failed fire suppression tests). Carmy sends most of his staff away to train with some of the best chefs in the world. Tina heads to culinary school, Marcus to Amsterdam to work with an old friend, and Cousin to another restaurant in the area. It’s here these characters learn Carmy’s language of appreciation.
Carmy is not a…relaxed…person. He is overwhelmed with both his new responsibilities with the restaurant and his grief. He struggles to spend time with family without being reminded of what once was, and he pushes away those who care for him, romantically and platonically. But, his appreciation leaks out in different ways. He sends his staff to programs to improve their skills (which I’m sure wasn’t cheap)! As the series progresses, he noticeably listens to his staff more than just nodding. He opens up to his sister…and maybe even a girlfriend.
It’s a joy to watch Carmy’s relationship with his staff and family change through the series, but it’s delightful to see his blossoming romance with Claire, a family friend he runs into during a late grocery store run. At first, in his usual standoffish fashion, he gives Claire a fake number. After realizing this, she manages to get his number from a mutual friend, and their romance begins. Claire acts as an anchoring, guiding force; she becomes Carmy’s constant. She also isn’t unaccomplished herself (she’s a resident physician!).
While some criticize Claire’s character for being a stereotypical “Manic Pixie Dream Girl”, I see her from a different perspective. From Carmy’s perspective, Claire is out of this world. Carmy was bullied in high school and lived in his older brother’s shadow. But Claire is a beautiful woman with a successful (and pretty impressive) career. And she loves him? Carmy? Who thinks so lowly of himself and hasn’t ever been loved like this before? Of course, she seems like a fantasy! My favorite scene of the two is them hanging out in Carmy’s kitchen, late at night, when he tells her how wonderful she’s been, but how he’s worried. Claire responds: “You’re waiting for the other shoe. You want to hear a secret, no one’s keeping track of shoes.” The vulnerability and that new relationship affection had some mist in my eyes.
The found family dynamic wouldn’t have been possible without the impressive casting. Jeremy Allen White was the perfect choice for Carmy (in my totally not biased opinion). His emotion, or lack thereof at times, was on point, and his distress could be felt through the screen. Ayo Edeberi, Ireland’s treasure, was the best possible Sydney. Her comedic timing, level of uncertainty, and ambitious energy were the perfect balance. Molly Gordon is the BEST Claire, and Abby Elliot gives on-the-spot older sister energy.
And perhaps The Bear’s most impressive achievement is its cinematography. I was blown away by season one episode seven, and its nearly twenty-minute one-shot take. Even I, with little to no knowledge of film-making, knew that was something to be admired. With no cuts, the kitchen’s energy and chaos are intact, as well as the anxiety and rage felt by its employees. Another feat was season two episode six “Fishes”. A combination of music, camera work, and editing somehow conveyed the exact brand of embarrassment, panic and despair felt at such family gatherings. It’s truly a talent, and The Bear isn’t running short.
All-in-all, I loved this show. As I mentioned, I went in hesitantly, but it was the perfect combination of chaos, emotion and energy to enjoy at any time of day. With The Bear I felt fear, sadness, but an unsuspecting amount of joy. What a joy it is to see goals come to fruition, but how devastating to see what it takes. The Bear is a story about a family and its labors, the dreams of some are made, but at what cost?
Season 3 is set to premiere on Hulu in June, and I hope to see you there Chef!