Entertainment

Review: The Bear Season 3 Returns With a Deliciously Explosive Take on Obsession and Dysfunction

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4m ago

Jun 29, 2024 / 7862 Views

Evan Walker

While reviewing season 3 of The Bear, I sought out to discover what made it a great watch, and instead ended up hungry, anxious, and excited for the next instalment. To that end, I’m happy to report that its current season goes above and beyond, asking us to consider: What do we give up in pursuit of excellence, where the only judge is ourselves?

Prestige rating: 4.5/5
Genre: Comedy Drama
Cast: Jeremy Allen White, Ayo Edebiri, Ebon Moss-Bachrach, Lionel Boyce, Liza Colón-Zayas, Abby Elliott, Matty Matheson
Directors: Christopher Storer, Duccio Fabbri, Ayo Edebiri, Joanna Calo
Episodes: 10
Release date: 27 June 2024

What we liked: The cinematic cuts and montages, the time and attention to detail in expanding character storylines

Plot: Following an explosive soft launch event, Italian restaurateur Carmen and his culinary compatriots must now get down to the nitty-gritty of day-to-day restaurant operations. But with limited funds and dysfunction within The Bear’s kitchen, getting the restaurant into the greens proves to be a challenge.

Having swept the most recent awards season with three Golden Globe wins, six Primetime Emmy wins and four Critics’ Choice Television wins among others, The Bear has become a beast of a show with an enormously ravenous audience. Addressing the intricacies of the culinary world from the mental fortitude required to operate at the highest levels (think: Michelin stars) to the anxiety of steering an establishment safely through its death knell, The Bear does not disappoint in its premise.

From beautifully rendered shots of Michelin-quality food and quippy, fast-paced episodes to a stellar cast and enjoyable cameos, there is much to love about FX’s award-winning show. If prior instalments were mise en place for its latest release, then the show does not disappoint in what can only be its entrée, serving up episodes suffused with familial dysfunction and self-flagellation, but nonetheless seasoned with quiet optimism for a better tomorrow.

Wrapped up in a collection of chaotic, fast-paced episodes, the show has left many a viewer hungry in the best way possible. With season 3 finally rounding the corner at long last, I’m happy to say that it could not have come at a better time — for I am absolutely starved.

Welcome back, cousin. I’ve missed you dearly.

Mild spoilers follow below in this review of The Bear season 3. If you do not wish to be spoiled, bookmark the page and come back to commiserate once you’ve finished.

Where we left off last season

Among the many things The Bear does wonderfully, its ensemble cast of characters ranks near the very top. While some characters get very little screen time, they are nonetheless well fleshed-out, and none among the top-billed cast feel like unnecessary additions to the plot. The writers have done an incredible job showcasing the relationships, bonds, and camaraderie that have likely been built over the years, conveying such with very few words.

As the main protagonist of The Bear, Jeremy Allen White’s Carmen ‘Carmy’ Berzatto bears, pun 100 percent intended, the burdens of drama required for peak television. Over its past seasons, the show has done a spectacular job of putting the viewer in Carmy’s head, showcasing his unravelling in the face of chaos and panic through unnerving close ups, biting scripts, and sterling editing.

Season 2 closed on the unforgettable and explosive opening night of The Bear (the restaurant), ending with Carmy’s unwitting imprisonment in a chiller for some much needed ‘cooling down’. And while Cousin Richie and steadfast Sydney do rise up to save the night, leaving guests and viewers enthralled and hungry for more, the highs of professional success soon find themselves stricken down by the emotional blows of generational trauma.

We are shown a mother’s remorse for the unjust treatment of her children, courtesy of Donna Berzatto (portrayed stunningly by Jamie Lee Curtis) — in tandem, we are also shown the effects of her treatment in Carmy, whose tendency to hit the self-destruct button results in him pushing away and alienating his girlfriend, Claire. The same effects linger on in Natalie, whose sweetness has more than warranted her nickname ‘Sugar’. Heavily pregnant and on the cusp of giving birth, Sugar’s journey finds her grappling with imminent motherhood and her evident desire to break the cycle of familial abuse.

Ebon Moss-Bachrach plays Richard “Richie” Jerimovich in *The Bear*. (Image: FX)

Beyond the Berzattos, we also saw growth in the other characters — most notably in Richie, whose stint at the highbrow establishment Ever proved an invaluable resource for his professional, as well as his personal evolution. In Richie’s blooming, I found hope in the knowledge that the distance you fall is also the distance you’ll be able to scale in better days. And through the trials and tribulations of The Bear’s other side characters, I found inspiration and the courage to move forward; I drew wisdom from Marcus’ quiet devotion and strength from Tina’s feisty resolution, and in loving these characters for all their flaws and imperfections, I learned to love my own as they surfaced before me.

In rooting for these characters, I learned to have grace and compassion for myself. And if the impact of season 2 was anything to go, season 3 is set to be yet another tear-jerking rollercoaster.

Season 3 of The Bear kicks off on a sombre and melancholy note

the bear season 3 review — Jeremy Allen White plays Carmen “Carmy” Berzatto in *The Bear*. (Image: FX)

This season opens with a sombre montage that shows us life viewed through Carmy’s lens. An intriguing collection of clips highlights his colourful career, juxtaposing moments of pure peace against that of chaos and drama. Likewise, the many facets of his personality are laid bare for us to see: All at once, he is a chef in pure whites, a perfectionist with a drive to succeed — then the veil is parted and we see another side of him: a messy, angry man full of rage and regrets. As one with Carmy, we hear feedback from the top chefs in haute cuisine and culinary greats; like the best of us, he filters out the good, retaining only the bad which haunt him to present day.

We watch as Carmy finds solace in the quiet rituals of mise en place, and in the deep cleaning of the restaurant space. Through his second harshest critic, the first being himself, Carmy learns that the path to culinary greatness lies in ‘subtraction’, drawing parallels to his belief that he must likewise subtract things from his personal life for The Bear to succeed. He hyperfixates on being the best and the fastest. Always one dramatic shouting match away from unravelling, he spirals into madness, driven by his desire to win at the only Game that he believes he is good at: Cooking.

The entire montage plays out like an episode of Chef’s Table but stripped bare of its veneer, leaving only the harshest realities of the culinary realm. Through Carmy, we ask ourselves: To what lengths do we push ourselves at the expense of our mental Health? What is our perceived lack, and in what ways do we punish ourselves trying to make up for it? What have we given up in pursuit of something we believe will heal our hearts and souls?

Carmy writes down a list of ‘non-negotiables’, which truly begs the question: What are the non-negotiables in Carmy’s personal life, that have nothing to do with who he is in the kitchen?

Progression and growth

There is something inherently magnetic about the Berzatto family; if people were rooms in a home, the Berzattos would be the dining room, a place where families congregate, whether linked by blood or other ties. The Berzattos and their compatriots inspire a certain sense of loyalty reminiscent of the notion that “They are idiots, but they are my idiots.” And while they don’t seem physically able to stop yelling long enough to hold a coherent conversation, it is perhaps part of their incomprehensible charm. In a family rife so rife with chaos, denizens of a messy and imperfect world cannot help but feel welcome — more so than that, at home.

Season 3 of The Bear takes these pre-established relationships, masterfully strengthening the bonds that have been cooking for the past 20 episodes. In a tender moment between two adults who have long acknowledged their shortcomings, Richie and Sugar discuss parenthood; in this scene, I found myself once again stricken by Richie’s character development. But more importantly, I was confronted by the idea that he may have always been thoughtful and kind — but perhaps hardened by a world inclined to see him fail.

Likewise, I was intrigued by Cicero — or Uncle Jimmy — and his self-appointed stewardship of the Berzattos. While his true motives are admittedly difficult to read, one cannot help but be convinced that the old man truly wants the best for both Carmy and Sugar. This insight is particularly sobering, considering the duo’s strained relationships with the one parental figure that remains to them in Donna. Alongside an unexpected but welcome cameo (of which there are several this season), the Faks make for much-needed comedic relief, expanding on the lore of Matty Matheson’s bumbling, if well-meaning mechanic-cum-server.

As enjoyable as these moments were, none proved as impactful for me this season as the expansion of Tina’s character. Portrayed by actress Liza Colón-Zayas, the once-prickly Tina served as an incredible foil for the radiant optimism of Emmy winner Ayo Edebiri’s Sydney. And while I found myself wondering, ‘Why are you like this?’ of the enigmatic Tina early on at the outset of the series, season 3 provided the answers I had long desired.

Tina’s story was an unexpected addition to this season’s lineup of effervescent episodes; however, it was wholly welcome, providing a glimpse into the murky window of her life. As a working woman who is also the daughter of a working woman, I found myself relating intensely to Tina’s plights. In her desperation to contribute to the financial security of her family, I saw my own mother’s tenacity in providing for her children; likewise, in Tina’s belief that she is worth only what she can give, I saw my own insecurities reflected back at me.

In Tina’s darkest moments, a single act of kindness is enough to send her careening off the edge. This is not a unique experience — many of us can relate to feeling as if the world were too heavy to bear, just as many of us have sat struggling to hold back tears with our food going cold before us. Yet, as I watched Tina have a full-on breakdown in a public place simply because Richie showed her a little bit of kindness, something in me recalled days in which I have felt exactly the same; just as defeated and just as scared. And, in the aftermath of her serendipitous meeting with Mikey, I was afforded a new understanding as to why she held such deep respect and regard for The Beef.

And the story comes full circle.

Colón-Zayas’ performance accurately portrays the often-heartbreaking roadblocks faced by those of the working class. Her cutting line deliveries and the depth in her expressions make it so that it would be remiss if I did not stand in my belief that she is deserving of acknowledgement come awards season.

Saying goodbye

Beyond its incredible and heartfelt portrayals of human connection, The Bear also provides commentary on the frou frou of the culinary industry, which can occasionally feel over-the-top. This much is true — that real and honest good food will always have its place in the world.

However, there remain questions to be asked: How far have we pushed in the haute cuisine sector, and how high is the fall from grace in that regard? Do cyclical trends in the culinary industry harm or help the food scene to progress? And is a new menu every single day really a non-negotiable for success, or are we just banking on novelties to gain the approval of critics with eager palates?

In season 3, The Bear forces us to confront these obsessions with a poignant goodbye. With the obsession for perfection manifesting in Carmy’s madness and magnificence, it is a delicate balance to strike, and one that is difficult to implement in a world that often chooses corporate success over personal wellbeing. One thing is made abundantly clear: In the end, we’re only fighting with ourselves.

Final thoughts

If there is one thing that you can trust The Bear to deliver on, it is aesthetically-pleasing montages that remind you of all the reasons life can be beautiful. From the smiles of strangers to beautifully glazed doughnuts, season 3 of The Bear is rife with positive imagery, expertly played off against its more distressing themes from anger and anxiety to self-doubt and beyond. Perhaps this is an intentional reminder that, while life can be equal measures messy and beautiful, to live in it is to truly experience the highs and lows as they come. The onus is on us to find solace in others, understanding that we each fight our personal battles.

From the cleverly interposed moments of serendipity to Richie’s tirade against the Michelin ranking system, which hilariously catches strays in the form of Pirelli and Goodyear, The Bear has more than delivered in season 3. If it is possible to be both anxious and hungry, The Bear has seen to it that I am just so.

A triumph to follow its critically acclaimed predecessors, Season 3 of The Bear may not have been exactly what I wanted; but it more than delivered what I needed. And when season 4 drops sometime in the future, you can bet that I will be waiting with my Italian beef sandwich, ravenous for more.

The Bear season 3 is now available to stream on Disney+ Hotstar.