- Where's the plot, motherfucker?
The fucking sandwich sales finally need to get going. The fucking hippie pottery is too expensive. And constantly, the fucking teaspoons are all gone. Fuck! Exactly seventy-two times, the staff of the restaurant "The Bear" has already thrown a salty "fuck" in the second episode.
With the third season of "The Bear" on Disney Plus, all the charm that makes the successful series is back. Chef Carmy (Jeremy Allen White) opens his spotless fine-dining restaurant in Chicago. Gone is the rundown sandwich shop he took over from his brother in previous seasons. Now, napkins are aligned at the table edge. Carmy's girlfriend accidentally left him at the end of the last season. At least he can now fully focus on his new goal: earning a Michelin star.
It's almost the same as ever in "The Bear": The crude jokes, the brilliantly clean shots of boiling pots and perfectly filleted fish. The rapid-fire dialogue that feels so authentic, you believe you're right there, sweating on the edge of a stainless-steel kitchen, with a warm cola in a plastic cup. It crackles and hisses, bubbles and bangs. Somewhere, a stove beeps constantly, someone swears and barks a "Yes, Chef" to the face.
The past catches up with "The Bear" on Disney Plus
The season has a lot on its plate. Carmy's driven sidekick Sydney (underutilized: Ayo Edebiri) begins to distance herself from her father. We learn how Tina (Liza Colón-Zayas) ended up in the kitchen from poverty. Carmy's annoying sister Natalie Berzatto (Abby Elliott) is pregnant and worries she won't overcome her difficult childhood in time.
But above all, it's about Carmy and his trauma. He's haunted by flashbacks from his early career under a sadistic boss (appropriately eerie: Joel McHale). Carmy's toxic work experience bleeds into the present. He imposes draconian rules and drives his team mad with a constantly changing menu: duck with apricot or cherry or orange – or maybe cherry? When Carmy confronts the toxic boss with "I think about you too much," you want to shout: Yes, exactly.
It gets much darker than in previous seasons. And it doesn't look as appetizing as before. The "Seven Fishes" dish, based on a family tradition of Carmy's choleric mother, is reduced to just one fish. Because Carmy remembers his former boss drilling into him: Reduce! He wants to cook star-level cuisine, not a plate of nachos. Perfectly cubed vegetables with colorless broth and bizarrely arranged meat joints look like a parody of high-end gastronomy in some scenes.
Who needs plot?
What remains, unfortunately, is: the plot. We learn little new about Carmy and his team. If you understood Carmy's past trauma from the first meaningful flashback, you can skip the entire first episode and a large part of the last one. And otherwise, we mostly wait for... the contractions to start or for a gastronomic critic to drop by.
Those who have grown fond of the ensemble over the last seasons will still enjoy this one. Director Christopher Storer seems to know he can rely on the hype around the series. Of course, with four Golden Globes and ten Prime Time Emmys. In the US, where the series has been airing since June, every guest appearance, every hint, and every recipe has been dissected and analyzed. The recipes from "The Bear's" menu can all be cooked at home by fans.
For its painstaking authenticity, "The Bear" has been celebrated from the start. From the elevated dishes ("Aiguillette of Hamachi with a blood orange reduction"), to the shouted jargon, to the plastic cups, everything is meant to be as close to real restaurant kitchens as possible. In its intense moments, "The Bear" is filled with subtle nods to chefs. When Carmy's team hangs a row of photos of famous food critics, real heavy hitters like Naomi Fry from The New Yorker are included. Restaurants have actually served "helium-filled apple balloons" and "caviar ice cream". Even the pen Carmy uses to scribble phrases and recipes (a Pilot G2 Gel Roller Pen) is a nod to the restaurant "The French Laundry", one of the most renowned in the world. Three Michelin stars – naturally.
Watching "The Bear" is intense – but worth it
This takedown of the industry can sometimes be cringe. In her guest appearance, the brilliant Olivia Colman is given the line: "It's a miracle that these places exist." She means not pyramids, but restaurants. From a chef's work, it's said that it's "an experience where every single experience in life happens at the same time within the same four walls, and then you get to be the conductor of it all." While there's admiration for the craft, that's a bit thick.
A season of "The Bear" feels like a Saturday night shift in a restaurant: you've been shouted at and insulted, you've missed something in the rush, and by the end, you're too tired to want anything more than a plate of spaghetti. In an interview, lead actor Jeremy Allen White hinted that season 4 had already been filmed. That's good to know, because the final episode of season 3 ends on a cliffhanger. And with the word: "Motherfucker!"
In the thriving ensemble of "The Bear," Carmy's friend and driven sidekick Sydney (Ayo Edebiri) faces personal challenges, leading to a distance between her and her father. As for Carmy's annoying sister Natalie (Abby Elliott), her pregnancy brings up concerns about overcoming her challenging past.
