Ambition isn’t always a great thing (particularly when it’s directionless). But it’s always powerful.
For better or worse, the third season of The Bear will be defined by its relationship to ambition – both within the story of the show and in the ways that that story is told.
This is the season that proved that perfection is the enemy of progress and that Carmy (Jeremy Allen White) is the enemy of everything (and everyone) else, his idiosyncrasies devoid of charm, his intense passion more easily defined as toxic rage and psychotic obsession. He was consumed.
Carmy has become such an alienating force in the world of the show that no one is really fighting him or fighting for him. Save for one moment, Sydney (Ayo Edebiri) mostly moves around him. Natalie (Abby Elliott) doesn’t know how to talk to him anymore.
Think about the intensity of his and Richie’s (Ebon Moss-Bachrach) fridge showdown last season. All that was said – hard, pointed blows meant to break a forcefield. This season, it’s all surface level “fuck you’s” and that one, wordless stare through the dividing wall between their worlds that called back to the finale.
You can see it on everyone’s faces – concern, exhaustion, disgust as they’re forced to take a backseat to Carmy’s do-it-all, screamo energy. “Joy” is not a non-negotiable at The Bear and certainly not when in Carmy’s view or orbit.
Turning people against your lead character is, for sure, a bold, ambitious choice. It’s one I applaud that fits what I perceive the larger story to be. It’s also a move that indicates extreme faith in the audience’s willingness to hang in and be challenged. Based on some reviews, though, The Bear may be paying a price for it, among other things this season.
I have, at this point, run through this season of The Bear three times. I get every criticism dropped on the show (too many filler episodes, too much of the Fak Brothers, not enough focus on Sydney’s flirtation with leaving, no real narrative payoff). I agree with those that say it’s not as good as it has been in the past, but it’s still pretty great, incredibly interesting, and obviously invested in pushing boundaries in service to a larger story.
That amazing, mostly wordless season premiere (“Tomorrow”) was the exact right tonal bookend for the season 2 finale, filled with solitary contemplation and a rededication to the tenets that had served Carmy well through his career: his non-negotiables. It’s going to break bad, but in that episode we understand that the idea of control and these sort of commandments serve as a place for him to hide his hurt heart and his fear of failure.
The premiere also sets us off on a beautifully shot season that often highlights the art and alchemy of cooking and the ritualistic nightly cleansing of a place that becomes, for Carmy, more like a temple than a kitchen. Throughout the entire season, it’s the only place where he seems even remotely at ease — alone with his tweezers and his latest creation, trying to solve a riddle that no one else can really gauge.
In episode 2 and 3 (“Next” and “Doors”) the frenzy returns as the restaurant fills up with other people and a buzz over the fridge lock-in and everything that went down. These are some of the hardest watches of the show’s run, particularly “Doors.” Carmy is unhinged. Again, it’s bold as hell to shock viewers’ systems with these 3 episodes right at the start.
Episode 4, “Violet,” begins with a throwback to last season and an intimate conversation in bed between Carmy and Claire (with a reminder of what real stakes look like). It upsets the pace perfectly while creating a devastating reminder of the sacrifices Carmy believes he needs to make to get a Michelin star and establish The Bear.
Love or loathe the binge model, you have to admit that The Bear crew seeks to be intentional with how episodes flow into one another. Not always the case with this model.
I don’t think Carmy smiles until the 7th episode of the season, “Legacy,” when he’s in flashback talking with Claire (Molly Gordon). Soon after, he’s talking about wanting a “panicless” legacy devoid of anxiety in one of few chill moments of conversation between him and one of the people he works with, in this case Marcus (Lionel Boyce). It’s a sign that he’s at least somewhat a captive of his ambitions and emotions.
In episode 9, “Apologies,” Carmy acknowledges his pain more fully, calling Claire “peace” in contrast to chaos and admitting that he thinks about her every day, this while standing atop a heap of boxes that never seem to fit into their bin.
It takes a long way to get there, but these are key moments of growth, demonstrating the kind of dimension and relatable storytelling that has always won the show fans. All while pushing Carmy to the maximum of what a lot of fans will accept (and maybe a little beyond).
There are other such moments scattered throughout: Richie telling Natalie about the birth of his daughter, the strengthened bond between Sydney and Tina (Liza Colón-Zayas), Gary “Sweeps” Woods (Corey Hendrix) talking about his failed baseball career while stocking bottles of wine in the midst of working to become a sommelier. Even Carmy and Unc (Oliver Platt) dancing around guilt (and other things). Spare little moments of care, friendship, love, concern.
Liza Colón-Zayas is perfect in the Ayo Edebiri-directed, flashback-laden episode “Napkins,” the season’s 6th. It lives to remind us all of the history of The Beef (complete with a great Jon Bernthal appearance) and the stakes at play here. The heartbreak of her character’s journey as a middle-aged worker lost in the grey of a job market that wants, at once, younger and differently qualified, whispers about the worries her character and a lot of others on this show are likely feeling. Because if The Bear fails, their lives will be severely upended.
“Ice Chips,” this season’s 8th episode, feels like this year’s “Fishes” with its focus on family trauma, but it’s more hopeful as Donna (Jamie Lee Curtis) is the only option to help when Natalie (Abby Elliott) goes into labor.
Outside of any one moment, exchange, or look, it’s the fact that both characters are making an effort with each other. Donna is doing her best to keep her emotions in check, and Natalie is dodging the motherly blows that slip out of Donna’s mouth. It’s a highly relatable dance for a lot of people, captured magnificently. It also doesn’t feel made-for-TV. It’s messy. A moment of desperation that produces an uneven thaw. It’s a start.
The last episode, “Forever,” feels very much like a season finale with rampant guest stars, multiple threads begging for resolution, a big confrontation between Carmy and Joel McHale’s archdickhead mentor chef that borrows from a Mad Men all-timer, and some Yoda-chef wisdom from Olivia Colman’s character. All this before Carmy’s phone reveals a mix of texts and voicemails that create chaos, but also maybe some clarity… for next season.
I don’t think a season 3 that continued churning through story at the pace of the first 2 seasons would have been very good. Not with a season 4 (and maybe 5) on the horizon.
It would have felt incredibly rushed and unrealistic if Carmy had some kind of instant epiphany. He had to run a gauntlet of emotional and career devastation to prove the point that I think the show is trying to make (which we were harping on last season as well) about the hierarchy of dreams, work, craft, family, friends, and love. In a culture that’s been sold on a hustle first, second, and third mentality, there is a lie that there’s always going to be time for everything else after we get where we want to get in our careers – a goal that constantly moves. I think Carmy is in the process of understanding the cost that he is levying against himself to go all-in on The Bear.
What all of that means for Carmy and Claire, Carmy and Donna, Carmy and The Bear, and the future of the show, I couldn’t tell you. I don’t think the gauntlet is done, nor do I think this one relationship should be presented as a fix-it-all for the character. The point is more that Carmy develop some kind of guidance system for his own ambition while also maybe realizing that the clock-adjacent sign that says “Every second counts” might have less to do with rushing through dinner service and more to do with being present.
‘The Bear’s third season is currently streaming on Hulu.
