A chef never reveals their secret recipe.
As so it seems when understanding what The Bear truly is about.
For the past four years, Christopher Storer’s The Bear has shown the strength and determination it takes to be a chef in a high-intensity environment, using dramatic storytelling mechanics cooked from the likes of Martin Scorsese and the Safdie Brothers. In its inception, The Bear was about the sanctity and insanity of showmanship in the culinary field. Carmy/Carmen (Jeremy Allen White) started out as an anxious unbeliever in his craftsmanship. When Carmy inherits his family’s beef restaurant, the intentions of shifting it into a more scrumptious establishment remain to be seen in the upon it’s former upbringings. The restaurant that once was is now transformed into a high-luxury eatery, filled with edible bite-sized treats and maddening affairs with the restaurant gods of the real world (Ex: Anthony Bourdain and his “FUCK IT, WE’LL COOK IT LIVE” attitude). Carmy’s rage toward his staff becomes the centerpiece of the entire, unrelenting nature of the series. It’s only when Carmy himself takes responsibility for his actions that the series truly shines at its peak.
The reason why I’m describing Carmy in this manner is because the whole series operates like a conveyor belt of emotions and misunderstandings from all the characters around him. With each season, the series has become a staple in the appetite for redemption for all the characters. In its final season, The Bear has somehow regressed in a way. This season has finally taken a step back and gone through the steps of recovery, just like the characters who are finally discovering their own paths in life. Carmy is much calmer and nearly nonchalant with how he goes about his everyday battles with anxiety and combative compulsions. The group therapy thematic is in full swing this season, and it starts out by laying out that the season takes place fully within a single day when a torrential storm wreaks havoc on Chicago. Threats of foreclosure and Carmy’s last straw with the restaurant business loom underneath all of the characters’ pain. This final season hits the audience with multiple bricks and no time to diddle daddle.
Storer’s imagery of Chicago is still intact. In fact, Chicago continues to be a blossoming, buttery lobster of discovery and self-reflection for the audience’s perception of how the characters are all going to survive through their grievances with each other, despite also having some loose threads tied to the end of the Chicago L line. Richie Jerimovich (Ebon Moss-Bachrach), Carmy’s “cousin” in crime, is now at his inner zen as he has finally figured out how to go about his anxious compulsions of anger through a series of cognitive tools in the tool shed. Richie now identifies objects that are right in front of him in order to ground himself in reality. This becomes the main focal point of Richie’s finality and his inner peace with himself. The man has gone through periods of dependency, being nasty toward others because of his masked insecurity of himself. When the grounding technique finally works in some capacity, the audience feels relieved that this character we’ve been following for the past couple of years is finally getting it. Other characters are operating on the same wavelength as Richie. Syd (Ayo Edebiri) finally feels composed and lived-in with the notion of becoming the best chef in the kitchen and now wants to defend her position by continuing to be Carmy’s light. Her story line is utterly breathtaking and provides a grand closing to the series that audiences might truly love for years.
The Bear, in its final season, has some flaws, as per usual with these grand finales, as the constant pendulum swing between staying open for business and closing for business is still there at the forefront. Jimmy Kalinowski (Oliver Platt), a family friend of Carmy, is still trying to help the gang navigate their daily struggles with the business. A giant time clock looms over the characters’ heads as the timer strikes 0:00 to represent that the restaurant business is might over (or maybe not…). This causes the final season to have some sort of self-reflection on how these people are trying to live out their days when those days are soon to be over for them. Other detours in this final season include Cheese (Elsie Fisher), a woman who is determined to call out the failures of the restaurant on the fingers of her hand. And, Donna Berzatto’s (Jamie Lee Curtis) relentless nature in taking care of Natalie Berzatto’s (Abby Elliott) baby, despite being an emotional wreck herself, just like her daughter. The Faks (Matty Matheson, Ricky Staffieri) still play the comedic role this season and are constantly trying to fix the restaurant’s inner plumbing amongst all the chaos. Tina Marrero (Liza Colón-Zayas), one of the cooks at The Bear restaurant, has finally found her family there, even after trying to quiet quit her job in past seasons.
In the grand scheme of things, the debate over whether this show has stayed on track with its novelistic storytelling is answered by its weighty finale. No spoilers, of course, but there is a greatly satisfying ending to all of this. The dramatic nature of the show hinges heavily on believing that all the characters deserve to be redeemed or called out for their past grievances with each other. From my perspective, The Bear has delivered all the well-done meat to feed a whole house for generations. There’s no massive bleeding of the storylines in this final season, nor any burned meat of the characters for the audience to root against.
After all the infighting and overcooked storylines in the last two seasons, I can safely say, “YES, CHEF!” to this final season.
Rating: 4/5