season three the bearThe Hulu darling that critics have previously called “Funny, raw, real” and one Authentic, wonderful look at restaurant life,” could not bring his best this time. The New York Times considered it “Clanging, howling beast“Diversity Said It Was”aimless“And Vulture Announces Third Instalment”trapped” I agree — and I blame the food. “Dishes have really taken a backseat this season,” says Amy McCarthy, a writer for Eater who recently Review this season, explains “That’s part of why it feels so messy.”
In its first season, the bear was exciting because it had culinary oomph. The setting was the original beef of Chicagoland, an unpredictable world where anything could happen. You’re charmed by Italian beef, cuddled in bread, smeared with spicy giardiniera, drenched in jus. When Tina (Liza Colon-Zayas) discovers she has what it takes to be a serious chef by making mashed potatoes, you want to dip a spoon into the pot. Watching Marcus (Lionel Boyce) perfect his chocolate cake was a peaceful meditation amidst the chaos of the restaurant.
So this season, I was looking forward to food to be intimate and come alive. Where was the French omelet that Sydney (Ayo Edebiri) made for pregnant Nate (Abby Elliott) in season two, topped with potato chips? Marcus’s donut he lovingly labored to a level of definitive excellence in the first season? The explosive and cataclysmic Feast of the Seven Fishes, a traumatic family memory that Carmi Barzatto (Jeremy Allen White) recreated in a masterpiece? In the first two seasons, through the food, you understood why anyone would want to cook and learn with this team, despite Carmi’s brooding, obsessive perfectionism and the dysfunction revolving around the conflicts of the rest of her staff. The pressure of the environment was a byproduct of their love for their craft and it created a family bond. But, as McCarthy says, “There are no omelets this season. There is nothing to it.” (Spoilers follow for the third season.)
In season three, it’s no longer Chicagoland’s real beef. It is an upscale restaurant called The Bear. And the food is, I’m sorry to say, mindlessly boring. In some scenes, you can tell the writers wanted it to be that way. Plate after plate of ghostly dishes “Door!” Sidney or Carmi are sent to break by yelling. Or seen in flashbacks, such as Carmi shelling peas for hours while training at an upscale restaurant. It’s a montage of food porn à la satire list, “That’s what fancy restaurants do.” That’s why we’re doing it.”
Today’s fine dining is often confusing, overrated and, yes, boring. It may be a story, but it is not one in itself. I realized that this season’s cold, formulaic dishes were perhaps meant to show viewers that this rarefied world can crush its chefs and disconnect them from the joy of their work. But by presenting Karmi’s dishes again and again with a few more culinary-inspired characters — chefs who are newer, fresher, less edgy — the show leaves food as the main character.. I’m not sure the writers realized they had food for a large audience favorite character. James Beard Award-winning food writer Ahmed Ali Akbar of the Chicago Tribune said of the season, “Many characters have half-finished arcs.” “And food is one of them.”
When the food stops being exciting, the show follows. Instead of being a show about how cooking and eating bring people together, it became the same old New American tasting menu fare. It reminded me of RS Benedict’s essay “Everyone is beautiful and no one is horny,” about the exclusion of pure sexuality and sensuality from film. except in the bearEvery dish is beautiful and no one is hungry (Or horny, for that matter (but that’s a different article).
Perhaps worse, no one seems to care. When a newspaper asks the staff to replicate a duck dish for a photo shoot, no one can remember which duck dish the newspaper is talking about, because they make about 10 different versions in a month — Carmi decides to change the menu every day because for some reason, he Believe that this will earn them a Michelin star and not ridicule and destruction. There is intimacy without intimacy, both between the characters and the dishes they break to create themselves, which is claustrophobic and unpleasant to watch. “All of this concern just seems absurd,” McCarthy said.
As a food writer, I have one favorite restaurant because To be there and something to say Maybe they serve Foraged plants and hunted meat From the Ozarks, maybe they are one South Indian restaurant with hyperfocus on Kerala cuisineMaybe they want to wake you up 90’s childhoodOr maybe Adivasi Chef wants to remind you that we should all eat crickets. the bear There is no such draw; There is no real culinary philosophy other than a vague pursuit of greatness based on the reign of a white male writer. The culinary world we live in today cares about tradition, stories and sustainability. McCarthy noted that the show had previously moved away from the “Carmi is a genius” angle by “talking about the culinary partnership between Carmi and Sydney,” but we didn’t get that in season three.
This season also begs the question: What was so bad about just making a sandwich? Sandwiches are great, and as a starting block for a restaurant, they have a lot of room for creativity. “In general, I’ve always felt that the pursuit of Italian beef was a bit poor,” says Ali Akbar. “They have a whole scene discussing the philosophy of fine dining, what service means, what cooking means, but they spend almost no time on what a sandwich means or why a sandwich might be meaningful to someone.”
The show reminds us that only the Italian beef window run by Ibrahim makes them money, but there’s no real discussion of what that profit means in terms of where they should go creatively with their food. “They lean a little too much on the idea that the best foods in the world are the most expensive … but at the same time, Italian beef is seen as just a way to make money,” noted Ali Akbar, adding that he thinks Italian beef is Culinary genius and a discovery of the classic Chicago food he loves most.
The lack of culinary purpose seems to be why this season is so… boring. “Carmi’s culinary philosophy just seems to be ‘sublime,'” says McCarthy, adding that if he wants to overcome his obsession with such fine cuisine, he needs to “find some joy.” Ali Akbar noted that the Seven Fish Dish in Season 2 and Karmi’s pasta experiments this season point to a culinary philosophy rooted in her Italian family, but then “she goes to this dark place. [and] Relying on this training from the person he hates most, the chef played by Joel McHale … and he becomes that person.”
Again, this is a deliberate choice by the writers, but without any real creative counterpoint from characters like Sidney or Marcus it gets tired. “You can’t do that fun, creative cooking when you’re sad,” McCarthy says. “His menu reflects his state of mind in a way that’s not really explored.” The show’s apparent thesis — that getting to the top is hard and sad — is exactly what’s dragging on the bear down
