Every second counts
On FX's "The Bear" and what happens when a show has lost its way
Time has always been a major organizing principle on "The Bear." In the FX series' spectacular second season, chef Carmen "Carmy" Berzatto (Jeremy Allen White), trying to transform his late brother's Italian beef sandwich joint into a high-end, Michelin-starred restaurant, is up against the clock. Many of the episodes begin with a title card or chyron showing how many weeks remain until the restaurant's opening.
There is once again a countdown clock in the show's fourth season, which premiered Wednesday on Hulu. Carmy, executive chef Sydney (Ayo Edebiri), front-of-house manager Richie (Ebon Moss-Bachrach), and the whole crew are running out of time to keep the titular restaurant financially afloat and get it out of the red. Time is constantly on the characters' minds: How long until service begins; how many minutes is it taking to get each dish onto the table; how soon can they turn around each table? Time also dots the landscape of the entire season. It's referenced in the lyrics of several of the music cues, and in lines of dialogue and interstitial moments. Sommelier Gary (Corey Hendrix) muses that wine is "a liquid snapshot of time"; Carmy, who has been falling asleep to "Groundhog Day," wonders if he, like Bill Murray, is stuck in a time loop.
So it's a shame that the show, once so smart and efficient about its use of time (among many other qualities and choices), no longer seems to know what it's doing, wasting away precious minutes. During much of this season, I found myself asking: What is this show even about anymore? When it's good, it really is good, like every ingenious creation by the restaurant's pastry chef Marcus (Lionel Boyce). But when it's not, it's so unfocused, like the way Carmy keeps changing the menu, unwilling to commit to a cohesive set of dishes night after night.
The show's first season was about table-setting, introducing us to this milieu and these characters and developing their dynamics and tensions. Season 2 did exactly what a second season should do: retain what made the first season great, but also push the show forward, both within the world of the show itself and in its creative choices. Every episode felt individually daring and distinctive, especially the two gorgeously shot standalone episodes following Marcus and Richie, respectively, in moments of personal growth and transition (those episodes, plus the season finale, are, for my money, three of the finest episodes of television in recent years). But crucially, they never detoured from the main path. Each component deepened our knowledge of the characters and contributed to the arc of the whole season. The season was also aligned thematically, focusing on big questions about work and labor. Why do these characters do this job? What does ambition cost them? Can they build a better workplace culture and not replicate entrenched hierarchies? What constitutes a good leader, a good mentor?
By Season 3, the series had become somewhat of a victim of its own success. No longer did each choice feel precise and economical. At times, episodes veered into showy self-indulgence, like a dish that looked far better than it tasted. Or a scene between characters would simply repeat a piece of information the show had already underscored a few too many times, like serving us reheated leftovers.
Unfortunately, some of those same errors weigh down Season 4, making the progression of episodes inconsistent and scattershot. For every standout episode that captures what has made the show great (sometimes by bringing back familiar faces or inserting a stylistic callback to Seasons 1 or 2), there's another that's an unnecessary diversion, like a tasting menu where one dish is fantastic, then the next one's a dud. Four seasons in, we've spent so much time with these people. No need for, say, yet another hour-long detour into the extended Berzatto family, to once again underline in bright ink what we already know about Carmy's trauma and why he has traded the chaos of his family for the chaos of restaurants. On multiple occasions this season, I hit pause, glanced at the remaining runtime, and wondered: Where are we going with this? What's the goal here? This is not new information!
"The Bear" may never return to the heights of that second season. But it's telling that in the moments of Season 4 when the show still sings, it's when it returns to those central themes and questions about work. As the restaurant hangs on for dear life, each member of the team is figuring out their place in it. How can they best contribute to The Bear's survival? What are they willing to sacrifice? What parts of themselves have they already sacrificed? Not coincidentally, when the show grounds itself in these questions, it also deepens both the characters' interiority and interpersonal dynamics (though several characters are still getting short shrift). One of the series’ greatest strengths has always been when it shows us who these people are through the ways they work together and mentor each other. That's what keeps the lights on — and keeps me wanting to spend more time with these characters.
Still, it's never a good sign when I'm watching a show and dreaming about a previous season that aired two years ago. "Every second counts" is the mantra of Carmy's mentor, played by Olivia Colman, one of the very best of the many smartly deployed guest stars that season. When "The Bear" shines — and at times, it still does in this new season, albeit at a dimmer glow — every second, every choice, every detail, counts.
Odds & ends:
Not the most important ballot I filled out recently, but I saw the New York Times' 100 Best Movies of the 21st Century list going around, and thought: Fine, I'll bite. I went with my gut and picked the first 10 that came to mind, which is why my definition of "best" mostly ended up as "movies from the last 25 years that I rewatch and/or think about a lot." Maybe too mainstream (case in point: four of these are Best Picture winners), though to be fair, the list itself was very mainstream (and not particularly representative, though lists are always a tall order anyway). Of course, as soon as I picked these 10, I thought of 10 more. So it goes.
I did not put "The Social Network" on there — but many people did, and a younger version of myself probably would have, too. It did remind me: when I was a senior in high school, during that year's Oscar season, I wrote in to the Times' film critics to ask why it wasn't going to win Best Picture that year (which I was incensed about). Has the movie aged well? No. Did it really trenchantly capture a moment in time? A resounding yes. Thinking about it immediately transports me back to the fall of 2010. (Why this is the second consecutive week I have referenced a movie-related memory from 2010, I do not know. Why this movie is getting a sequel, I also do not know.)
Thanks for reading and for being here. As always, I like hearing from you, so let me know if you’re watching this new season of “The Bear” (and if/when you’ve reached the end), if you attempted your own Times movie ballot, or anything else you’ve been watching, listening to, or reading this summer. This newsletter’s recommended wine pairing for the evening: a nice, crisp chilled red.
For me, season four of “The Bear” is much better than season three. And the “best part” of season four of “The Bear” is the soundtrack.
Which reminds me.
James McMurtry just released a new album “The Black Dog and the Wandering Boy.”
I love this record.
And I wish I could get everyone who loves songs and loves songwriting to listen to it. It’s beautiful. And it’s right on time.
✌🏼❤️