I was born and raised in the Chicagoland area, and I have a confession to make: I’ve never had an Italian Beef. I have had many an authentic Chicago dog – I’m not a monster, after all – but never an Italian Beef. If you’re not from Chicago, that likely means next to nothing to you. And if you are, well, I hope you won’t hold it against me in my review of the excellent new FX on Hulu dramedy The Bear, which center around the innerworkings of a Chicago Italian Beef joint (modeled after both Al’s and Portillos in different ways – again, something that will mean nothing unless you’re from Chicago).
The premise to The Bear is, like an Italian Beef, deceptively simple on the surface but full of spicy complexity when you look closer. Carmy (an absolutely sensational turn from Shameless’s Jeremy Allen White, continuing his pitch to become an honorary Chicagoan), a former rising star in the international culinary world, has returned to his brother Michael’s failing Italian Beef joint following Michael’s sudden death. Carmy’s relationship with his late brother was complicated, to say the least, and his understanding of how the restaurant got into the dire straits it is currently experiencing (issues with food orders, owing money to the family’s friendly mobster acquaintance) is lacking. But what Carmy does know is how to cook – the question is if he can translate his fine dining skills into the realm of the Beef and bring the restaurant’s staff along for the ride.
While the series is tackling the idea of toxicity within the world of cooking (Carmy has bouts of PTSD from a particularly exacting and douchey former head chef and while he tries to run his new kitchen differently, it’s clear that some habits are hard to steer away from) – from abusive head chefs, lack of diversity in kitchens (the staff in The Original Beef of Chicagoland is incredibly diverse, but it’s Carmy and his “cousin” Richie (a great Ebon Moss-Bachrach) who have the most pull in the actual management of the place), and the constant push and pull of creative and commerce (two of the show’s stand out characters – Ayo Edibiri’s Sydney and Lionel Boyce’s Marcus – each have creative breakthroughs in their respective work throughout the season, only to be rewarded with dismissal from both Carmy and Richie for their troubles) – it’s also built to tackle interpersonal trauma. The death of Michael is essential to the understand of both Carmy and Richie’s journeys within the season (Michael being Richie’s best friend). His loss is also felt acutely in the brief screen time for his sister, Sugar (Abby Elliot, making the most with the scant opportunities she is given). This was a guy who was the life of every party, the magnet everyone in the room gravitated to, and, in the end, a man who couldn’t manage to outrun his addiction and his demons.
Sydney also has her fair share of traumas, although we get less time with her than we do with Carmy and Richie. In a potential season two (which is all but guaranteed, considering the glowing reviews of season one and its meteoric word of mouth rise), one hopes that the spotlight can shine a bit brighter on the show’s supporting cast (which also include great turns from Liza Colón-Zayas, Edwin Lee Gibson, and Matty Matheson). Personally, season one felt like a complete story in so many ways that I worry a second season might dilute the special recipe that made the series work so well. Each episode has the frenetic, claustrophobic pacing that simulates the stress within a chaotic kitchen (and “Review,” the show’s seventh episode, hits the season’s highest note with a 20-minute, one-take episode that is akin to sitting in a pressure cooker as it gets closer and closer to exploding). But what makes the series work so damn well is the focus on character. So many shows use plot to drive characters or focus on flashy set pieces as a stand in for developing their core characters. With The Bear, it’s the characters who drive the narrative. Everything that happens happens as a result of a character’s wants, needs, or mistakes.
In this era of Peak TV (where we aren’t only inundated with shows constantly but are also presented with episodes that strain under bloated run times – looking at you, Stranger Things), The Bear is the rare series that doesn’t try to do too much. The series clocks in at a short, bite-sized half hour. The characters feel real and lived in. The story doesn’t drive the character and the character development makes sense within the world the writers have created. Sure, it might not really be all that accurate to Chicago in its look and feel (it was filmed in Chicago and Richie is attempting a Chicago accent that is ok, if uneven). But the series is addicting in all the right ways. Much like, I’m told, an Italian Beef.
The Bear is currently streaming on FX on Hulu. All eight episodes are currently available.
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