The Bear is, quite literally, circling the drain. In the first episode of The Bear’s fifth and final season, a thunderstorm besieges the titular restaurant the morning after last season’s tense finale, during which head chef Carmy (Jeremy Allen White) informed chef Sydney (Ayo Edebiri) and “cousin” Richie (Ebon Moss-Bachrach) that he was hanging up his apron for good. Now, the rain and yesterday’s discarded cigarette butts clog the eatery’s main pipe, suggesting a very, ahem, explosive day ahead for the restaurant’s staff.
Or so you’d think. Sure, the clogged pipe is a wry visual metaphor for the show’s principal ethos: that without the proper care and support of a hardworking staff (or family), any well-intentioned but flawed restaurant (or person) is doomed to burst open. In practice, it reaffirms what many of the restaurant’s personnel (and The Bear’s viewers) know but may not be ready to admit: that with nowhere else for the story to go, it’s time to wrap this venture up.
Just as painfully self-aware as its protagonist is, The Bear has always been hyperconscious of its place within the wider cultural apparatus. After two phenomenal seasons, the show’s third and fourth entries divided fans and critics alike for being a bit too self-indulgent, sentimental, or just plain listless because, well, the characters and directorial choices themselves were a bit too self-indulgent, sentimental, and listless. For its final season, series creator Christopher Storer goes back to basics. Gone are the long flashbacks, bottle episodes, and lyrical musings, and instead the chaos and fraternity for which the series is known are wrangled into, for the most part, a single day of operations that will either keep the restaurant afloat or sink it for good.
Since the show’s first episode, the Bear has teetered on the edge of bankruptcy but still managed to pull through (the stakes have always been high, but the steaks have never been served dry, if you will). So when a seating chart snafu and a caved-in roof push the staff into more delightful screaming matches sandwiched between rapid-fire montages of culinary close-ups and characters waxing about how it’s the people who make a business feel like home, it feels like The Bear is coasting on its greatest hits rather than cooking up anything fresh.
Guilt-stricken over quitting and more sullen than usual, Carmy is nearly reduced to a background character for much of the season, so busy regulating his emotions that he hardly says anything at all except “sorry.” Comic-relief characters like the bumbling Fak brothers (Matty Matheson and Ricky Staffieri) continue to be either charming or exhausting depending on your tolerance for their one-dimensional buffoonery, and even Richie seems dissociated from the goings-on. He’s so distracted by his ruminations on the events of last month’s standalone episode “Gary” that he gets into a car crash early on and spends the rest of the day in a daze.
At the same time, as Luca (Will Poulter) jokes with pastry chef Marcus (Lionel Boyce) after tasting his first McGriddle, “For consistency, McDonald’s should have a Michelin star.” Sometimes, the most delicious meals you remember are the ones that are served when you’re hungriest and simply get the job done. The Bear has endured partly because, despite hitting the peaks of its characters’ journeys years ago, its ambitious storytelling and attention to complex characters remain satiating in a way that few other TV shows this decade can match.
In the latter half of season five, once the customers finally show up and the saucepots and interpersonal conflicts start to really boil over, The Bear reminds us of its own potential for greatness. Nothing else on TV as gracefully captures the machinery that goes into cultivating any artistic experience, and subplots involving Marcus’s father dining at the Bear and Tina’s (Liza Colón-Zayas) trajectory toward becoming CDC feel earned and heartfelt. And Storer still manages to inflect a little cheeky meta fun into the mix: When Donna (Jamie Lee Curtis) visits the back of the house and asks Pete (Chris Witaske) if Syd and her son are dating, SydCarmy shippers will get a kick out of his response (“I don’t think so, but there are some theories”).
How The Bear ties up its loose ends is yet to be seen (the series finale, “The Original Beef of Chicagoland,” hasn’t been screened for critics), but it’s safe to say that while Storer is aware of fans’ expectations, he’ll stick to his vision. As Jimmy (Oliver Platt) advises Syd, “Sometimes when the world is telling you to go away, you gotta listen.” Syd—speaking for the restaurant and, implicitly, the show itself—replies, “I don’t listen to the world, I listen to my crew.”
Since 2001, we've brought you uncompromising, candid takes on the world of film, music, television, video games, theater, and more. Independently owned and operated publications like Slant have been hit hard in recent years, but we’re committed to keeping our content free and accessible—meaning no paywalls or fees.
If you like what we do, please consider subscribing to our Patreon or making a donation.
