Editor’s Note: This article contains spoilers for “The Bear.” It also references suicide: reader discretion is advised.
The third season of “The Bear” premiered on Hulu, delivering the show’s most somber, meditative and therapeutic moments yet. Centering on professional chef Carmen “Carmy” Berzatto, played by Jeremy Allen White, it follows the staff of the nascent fine-dining establishment, The Bear.
The show’s newest season aired on June 26.
It’s often debated whether the show is a drama or a comedy. Although I think this dispute is frivolous — it’s both — it highlights the delicate balance of genre that makes “The Bear” so special. Set in the pressure cooker of the Chicago restaurant industry, the series capitalizes on the chaos, anxiety and inherent comedy of a professional kitchen environment.
The characters bring their own baggage as well. After the suicide of Carmy’s brother Mikey, owner of dysfunctional sandwich shop “The Beef,” Carmy, along with recent divorcee Richie (Ebon Moss-Bachrach), and aspiring chef “Syd” (Ayo Edebiri) aim to transform the shop into a healthy and thriving restaurant environment while simultaneously working on themselves.
Season two left off on a bittersweet note, with the success of the recently remodeled The Bear, formerly “The Beef,” juxtaposed against Carmy’s self-destructive behavior. After getting trapped in the kitchen’s walk-in freezer, Carmy erupted in a fit of rage and self-doubt, damaging his friendship with Richie and putting an abrupt end to his budding romance with childhood friend Claire (Molly Gordon).
Riding on the wave of 10 Emmy wins for its first season and rave reviews for season two, season three begins with an unexpected, yet welcome, stylistic departure. The premiere episode, “Tomorrow,” is essentially a 35-minute montage in which Carmy reminisces on the past, all set to the transcendent instrumental “Together” by Nine Inch Nails. It is as euphoric as it is foreboding, recalling the innocent artistry of culinary craft and the toxic environments it can birth. The episode wisely uses discontinuity editing techniques, creating a stream of consciousness feel and putting us in Carmy’s headspace going into the season.
One of the greatest joys to be had watching this season of “The Bear” is turning on the next episode and not knowing what to expect. The series has been known to push the envelope and break narrative conventions. Season three is no exception. It features stand-alone episodes such as the unhinged descent into madness that is “Doors,” the moving backstory of sous chef Tina, played by Liza Colón-Zayas, in “Napkins,” and what could be described as a 40-minute therapy session in “Ice Chips.” Episodes like these serve not only to develop the narrative of the series but can also be appreciated on their own as individual works of art.
This ambitious take on television is not so much concerned with plot as it is with character, devoting large portions of the season to pure character development. In fact, from a plot perspective, the state of the characters at the end of the season is not so different from where they began.
Carmy, still reeling from his disastrous confrontation at the end of last season, continues to push those closest to him away as he strives for perfection within the restaurant. Richie continues to deal with the aftermath of his divorce, navigating relationships with his daughter, his ex-wife and her new husband while pouring effort into his new-found passion: running front-of-house at The Bear. Syd is subject to the most change, presented with the choice of becoming part-owner of The Bear and having to continue to endure Carmy’s borderline abusive management or leaving to become the head chef at a colleague’s upcoming restaurant. At the end of episode 10, as the season’s central conflicts come to a head, “To be continued” flashes on the screen, and we’re left without resolution.
Because season three of “The Bear” lacks a conclusive ending, it’s difficult to assess its quality. “To be continued” suggests the season is not a contained chapter in a story, as it would be in most other TV shows, but a part of a greater whole, likely to be further elaborated upon in season four. As a singular work, it certainly leaves a bit to be desired, but this is only natural with it only being one chapter in a broader story.
What it lacks in narrative momentum is mostly made up for in the strength of its characters and the trust it places in its cast. The ensemble is tremendous, giving performances that are incredibly human and authentic. As stated by Chef Terry (Olivia Colman), regarding the restaurant experience, “People don’t remember the food… it’s the people that they remember.” “The Bear” certainly proves this.
Drew Askeland is an Arts & Entertainment Intern for the summer 2024 quarter. He can be reached at daskelan@uci.edu.
Edited by June Min, Jaheem Conley.