Coming off of The Bear’s less heralded third season, the news that no previews would be made available for season four might have been cause for concern. Typically, when a film or TV show doesn’t provide advance screeners, it’s for one of two reasons: either the project has qualitative issues or the makers are holding back a surprise. I’m glad to report that the reasoning behind show creator Christopher Storer’s decision to hold back previews is not due to quality. I won’t spoil any of the numerous surprises over this excellent fourth season, but let me just say, there’s the possibility of finality that may disappoint hardcore fans.
As we return to Carmen’s (Jeremy Allen White, as good as ever) flailing restaurant, we begin with a scene between Carmen and his big brother Mikey (Jon Bernthal), who is one of the ghosts that haunt the gifted chef. We also see Carmen watching Groundhog Day, and noting how every day of his life seems the same. Carmen is burnt out, and he doesn’t know if he can recover his spark. It may even be possible that he has lost his love for the cultivated skill that has defined his adult life. As Carmen enters the restaurant and stands over the prep table, Storer shoots the station like it’s a blank canvas. His vantage point says that art is created here. However, Carmen merely looks weary.
Season four focuses on Carmen’s desire to change. To become more orderly, efficient, and less addicted to the destructive chaos that often manifests itself from his insides. This is an often sober, somber, and muted season. I’ve always maintained that The Bear is not a comedy. Season four has vindicated my opinion. I’m not sure how FX will be able to keep a straight face if they submit this fourth installment for Emmy consideration in the comedy category. While there are chuckles and the occasional laugh out loud moment, they are fewer and farther between. This is a very different season. The show is less raucous, less manic, and more down to the bone. It’s a natural progression that is not out of character with the series’ personality, but does represent a shift.
Carmen isn’t the only character who is trying to change and grow. Cousin Richie (Ebon Moss-Bachrach) is trying to grow up, as is Carmen’s mother, Donna (Jamie Lee Curtis), and Sydney (Ayo Edebiri) has a very big decision to make about her future in the restaurant business. Uncle Jimmy (the wonderful Oliver Platt) meets with key members of ‘The Bear’ to set a clock for success. By clock, I mean a literal digital clock. When the numbers count down to zero, the restaurant will be out of money, and Jimmy will pull the plug, minus some minor miracle.
The question facing ownership and staff isn’t just whether they can pull it off, but whether Carmen even wants to. Carmen states early on that “People go to restaurants to feel less lonely,” while appearing to be the loneliest person in Chicago—the specific tension centers around what one must give away to live the life of a committed chef. The more universal question is, what must we all give away for the sake of work? What kind of lives are we leading if we can’t sustain relationships with friends, family, co-workers, and romantic interests due to our desire to succeed? It’s a question I’ve been asking myself of late. We only get so much life, and while I am not an old man, I can do the math, and I know that, short of some life expectancy breakthrough, I am closer to the end than to the beginning. Many of the characters in The Bear have yet to cross that halfway point, but they can see it coming. What must we prioritize to live a fulfilling life?
It’s a sizable question, one that requires introspection, and significant changes if one were to choose a different path. Through Carmen, the query resonated in ways that I didn’t expect.
Since closing out its majestic season one, The Bear has become more than appointment television; it has grown into event television. That’s a starry height for a show about a young man taking over his dead brother’s sandwich shop and turning it into a fine dining establishment. I’m not sure how Storer and company were able to conjure up a phenomenon out of such a simple premise, but I believe the answers can be found in the minute details. There are numerous moments in season four when characters speak more with silence than they do with words. Carmen’s tour of a Frank Lloyd Wright home, Richie fighting off a panic attack, the single tear that runs down Sydney’s father’s (Robert Townsend) face, or the single breath that Claire (Molly Gordon) takes to steel herself when meeting with Carmen.
These quiet moments are all ones that we can recognize in our own lives. In doing so, the minute becomes massive. We have been there, and The Bear is a remarkable reflection of our own experiences. The unrelenting persistence of time is something we all eventually come to consider as adults. We ask ourselves, where did all the time go, and what should we do with the precious time we have left?
I want to be careful at this moment to make sure I’m not giving the impression that The Bear: season four is a dirge-like watch. So much of what so many fell in love with is here. The brilliant needle drops that music supervisors Storer and Josh Senior come up with are not obvious, but they still enhance so many scenes. There is room for another stand-alone episode (this time for Sydney) that focuses on character development over plot, without detracting from the overall storyline. And of course, there is the extended hour-plus episode that brings multiple factions of Carmen’s friends and family together. This year, that episode is number seven, and while the memory of “Fishes” may linger, seven takes a much different tack than that frightful and manic episode from season two. As nearly all the people who matter descend upon the wedding of Richie’s ex-wife Tiffany (Gillian Jacobs) to Frank (a career best Josh Hartnett), what is most memorable is not someone driving their car into a house, but of a group of attendees talking to a little girl who is afraid to participate in a dance. It’s an incredibly lovely sequence that speaks to the desire of those involved to be the best versions of themselves and to hopefully find peace.
Episode seven features a lineup of major guest stars that we have seen before. Skilled actors like Bob Odenkirk, Sarah Paulson, John Mulaney, and Brie Larson (making her first appearance). Earlier episodes showcase Rob Reiner as a consultant to ‘The Beef,’ the sandwich shop attached to ‘The Bear,’ and a nearly unrecognizable Danielle Deadwyler as Sydney’s cousin, who does Sydney’s hair. It can’t be overstated how little the stunt casting of these well-known actors feels like stunt casting. It is to Storer’s credit (and the guest actors, too) how willing they are to step in for a handful of episodes or just a single chapter of The Bear. Quality draws quality, and game recognizes game.
The last episode of season four takes place in one setting, with Sydney, Carmen, and then Richie addressing a series-changing (if not series-ending) decision by Carmen. All three actors are at their very best in a thirty-four-minute scene that plays out like a lost reel of a John Casavettes film. The principals shout, talk over each other, and Sydney and Richie hurl insults at Carmen. It’s messy in the way that real life is messy.
I don’t know where The Bear goes from here, or whether The Bear goes anywhere at all. If this is it, then we have been blessed with four of the most unique and moving seasons any show has ever produced.
Yes, Chef. Thank you, Chef.
All episodes of The Bear are available to stream on Disney/FX/Hulu
