Season 3 bear is currently streaming on Hulu on FX, and our review below has more details about the season.
bear is a show about scars and ghosts, because in many ways this show is about consequences and grief, and of course, not all scars are visible and not all ghosts are dead.
At the start of the excellent third season, Carmy (Jeremy Allen White) is alone in the dark the morning after a tryout night for a new restaurant, staring at old scars on the palm of his hand and thinking about people who aren't there anymore: not just those who've died, but those who've hurt him, those he doesn't know how to talk to, those who've changed him for better or for worse.
From there, the episode unfolds not in a linear fashion, but in loops, layered on top of each other, like a mountain of pancakes, as we watch different parts of Carmy's life, which cut away to reveal everything at once. One is a difficult morning after he's locked in the walk-in fridge. Some are about family events, like Mikey's death and saying goodbye to Nat, who moved to New York years ago. Some are about Claire (Molly Gordon), whom he kisses in a flashback. But what we mostly see are Carmy's experiences in various kitchens in Chicago, the East Coast, the West Coast, and Copenhagen. We watch Carmy and Luca (Will Poulter) work for Chef Terry (Olivia Colman). We watch Carmy learn from chefs like Daniel Boulud, René Redzepi, and Thomas Keller, all of whom appear as themselves. We see more damage done to Carmy by a ruthless New York chef, played by Joel McHale.
While the episode doesn't offer the same fun we're used to, such as watching the large cast scream at each other, bearThe greatest strength of is how, despite its success, the show has always been creative. This is not a traditional TV episode, much less a traditional season opener. It's depressing, disorienting, doesn't move the story forward much, and may take several viewings to understand where you are in time. If the episodes were released one at a time, this opener might come across as cold to viewers. But with multiple episodes being released at once, including a more typical second episode in which the restaurant prepares for its true opening night, creator Christopher Storer and the rest of the creative team feel comfortable experimenting in this way, and they do.
The same can be said for episodes that distance themselves from Carmie, Sydney, and Richie, the three characters we love and adore. This season doesn't have any epic episodes like season two's fantastic “Forks” or “Fish,” but it does have the opportunity to get more intimate with the rest of the cast. Ayo Edebiri (Sydney) directs Tina's (Liza Colon-Zayas) standout episode, “Napkins,” which also contains one of the show's most powerful scenes with Mikey (Jon Bernthal). bear's greatest ghost. Abbie Elliott and Jamie Lee Curtis are in charge of “Ice Chips.” Nat's mother Donna is also a ghost in her own way, someone who is not someone Nat wants around when she is about to give birth, but who Donna is there for.
Always keep pushing against the obvious next move bear It's compelling: Whereas it was the filthy, loving raucousness of The Beef that won it much praise in season one, season two saw the team pivot to fine dining, opening up new possibilities for stories about learning and self-actualization.
And now that bears exist and can carry food, the focus shifts again. Questions about creativity and excellence are being called into question, especially in the second half of this third season. There's a movement to de-romanticize the abusive behavior that has long been ignored as part of the initiation process that must be endured to become great in the real world. And bear The series dives headfirst into its exploration of toxicity and hard work without veering into a didactic stance, instead returning to the two big guns that bring the gravitas and emotional scale it maintained over the first two seasons: scars and ghosts.
Carmy's industry ghosts are good and bad. He worked for Chef Terry, who was kind and created an environment of high standards and humane treatment; her restaurant, Ever, changed Richie's life. But Carmy also worked for a nightmarish boss, played by Joel McHale, whose scars from that job are evident not only in his insecurities and self-deprecation, but also in small habits like neatly cutting the label tape off deli containers and pot handles.
It would be nice to believe that Carmie will never become Joel McHale. But when he announces his list of “non-negotiables” for The Bear, it's not the items on the list that seem ominous, but the way he delivers them as an impatient dictator. He becomes obsessed with getting a Michelin star and declares that the menu will change daily, upending the economics of the business and the jobs of Sydney, Richie, Nat, Tina, Marcus, and everyone else who works there.
This is also a very strong season for Sidney and Richie. Edebiri perfectly captures Sidney's hesitation to get attached to Carmie; Carmie's obsession with quality and performance that becomes self-destructive; and Richie (Ebon Moss-Bachrach), who discovered during his training at Ever that he was a natural fine-dining server, trying to protect his dining room and his right to run it. Their complicated love for Carmie (and each other), and Carmie's complicated love for Carmie, make it all emotionally tense. The idea of Carmie becoming one of Sidney's unfortunate ghosts is ultimately too much to bear, and the failure to reconcile after Carmie and Richie's heated argument over the walk-in door casts a shadow over the success they've achieved together. (Claire's character felt underwritten even in previous seasons, but this season in particular she's often spoken of but not seen, making her a much less effective emotional vehicle.)
Of course, there are things that don't work this season, but most of them feel more like excess than failure. There's a little too much of the Fuck family, led by Neil, played by Matty Matheson. Neil is a great creation and is brilliantly played, and when he's talking to the whole crew, his presence is essential to getting the balance of those scenes right. But as the Fuck family grows throughout this season, they start to feel a little silly, and they're also the source of the only guest appearances in season one. many No big name actor in the show's history has ever come across as just doing it, as in stunt casting.
Also, the frequent appearances of real chefs are starting to wear off by the end of this season. Thomas Keller's lessons for Carmy go on for too long, and the gathering of real chefs in the second half of the season, while enjoyable at times, feels overly indulgent. I get that the show wants to show off how beloved it is in the real culinary world, and how much star chefs want to sneak in an episode. But as expected, bear The film brings out the best in its actors, and when the time we spend with the main cast feels precious and the story is picking up steam, it's hard not to take a detour for some celebrity cameos.
BTW, this is a half-season, not a season. It ends on a cliffhanger, “To Be Continued,” that doesn't resolve any of the major plot threads or emotional entanglements that have been building up over the last 10 episodes. It's a choice the show's creators have made, and it seems like a risky one, frankly, for a project that probably won't return for months. Thanks to the excellent acting and writing, they'll probably weather this disappointing ending (albeit quite different from the big shocker endings of the past two seasons), but… Several resolution something.
But overall, this remains a highly creative and daring show, full of both expected and unexpected delights. The fact that it tries to reinvent itself rather than repeating its successes every time is perhaps similar to Carmy's ever-changing menu: it may lead to some failures, but it's a way to show and share everything it can.