Metro, October 2022
Gordon Ramsay’s various kitchen nightmare shows largely characterised restaurants as toxic, pressured cauldrons of dysfunctional workplace hell. The Bear, a quite brilliant drama set in a Chicago sandwich joint, confirms all those preconceptions; sharp knives slicing into skin as the clock ticks on orders, f-bombs sizzling across the claustrophobic kitchen like onions thrown into a pan.
But amid these eight intense 30 minute episodes, something more profound begins to reach temperature. Hopes and dreams rise to the surface amid the frenetic cacophony of cooking.
Compulsions and addictions are never far from the chopping board. In the end, it’s less a study of a kitchen, more a compelling reflection of how people navigate careers, businesses and personal lives.
The premise is simple and quickly conveyed. Carmen “Carmy” Berzatto, superbly inhabited by Jeremy Allen White, has returned home to run The Original Beef of Chicagoland after the death of his brother. Carmy, though, is an award-winning chef from Noma, and though he’s not about to change Original Beef into a high-end destination, he does want it to be the best it can be. To prove himself. To do his brother justice. To confront his own demons.
Of course, in change comes confrontation, and much of the initial head butting is against Richie (a completely convincing Eben Moss-Bachrach), the loudmouth interim manager mates with Carmy’s brother. A study of testosterone-fuelled banter and rage, he’s not afraid to publicly call out Carmy’s highfalutin ideas. And yet there are some superbly judged scenes where the noise dissipates, and more fully rounded picture of grief become clear.
Actually, the quiet moments amid the hysteria is where The Bear is ultimately so fascinating. Sydney (Ayo Edibiri) is a pin-sharp sous-chef who shares Camy’s ambition but is constantly battling to be taken seriously as a woman in this environment. Reaching for some prized stock on a high shelf, she refuses any help… and then spills it everywhere. Pastry chef Marcus (Lionel Boyce) silently helps her clean it up. It’s a really powerful, moving moment.
The Bear can also be funny – the script has some great one-liners and retorts – and adeptly uses music from the likes of Wilco, Radiohead and Pearl Jam to set the emotional tone. A feast, then, for the senses.
