Why you should watch The Bear

With the break approaching, it’s time to pull out that Notes app want-to-watch list. There’s so much you could be watching, where do you start? That was my dilemma this recent Christmas break. “You need to watch The Bear,” my friend Hani suggests, “You’d love it.”

Coming in with high expectations, I soon realized that the three-season show’s plot is rather simple. The series follows Carmy Berzatto (Jeremy Allen White)—a prodigal chef from the fine-dining world—as he returns to his hometown of Chicago, Illinois, to take over his brother’s dingy, failing sandwich shop, “The Beef,” after a tragic death in the family.

The premise is nothing eye-catching or even new. I didn’t particularly care about cooking, Chicago, or sandwiches. This sounds more like a lullaby to fall asleep to than anything else. However, at the insistence of my friend, I decided to sit through one season just to give it an honest shot. And, after binging 8 episodes over two days, I can honestly say a lullaby is the furthest thing from what The Bear is (aside from having terrific music, I’m sure you know “End of Beginning” by Djo)—The Bear is one of the most stressful things I’ve ever watched, and this is a shared experience among fans of the show. My friend recalls having to watch a documentary about 9/11 to “calm down” after a particularly tense episode (watch out for the latter half of season 1…) because, in her words, “9/11 was just less stressful.” So yes, The Bear was the furthest thing from soothing, and I loved it.

With that introduction, would you believe me if I told you that The Bear, on paper, is a comedy? However, though the show does have its funny moments, it is, at its heart, a drama. Though, I must add, a very unusual one.

Drama has never been my favorite genre. I always thought that the writers were trying to do too much, too much drama for drama’s sake. In today’s dramas, we’re constantly bombarded with cheap plot twists, cliches, and scandals like junk food to keep us watching and engaged, keeping us distracted by the drama so we won’t notice the mediocrity.

Then there’s The Bear who, in the very first episode, does everything in its power to scare you away. The first episode, meant to emulate the pressures of working in a commercial kitchen, is stressful and chaotic. Without spoiling too much, it’s filled with people trying to yell over each other, arguing, the clattering of pans, and a cast of characters that just can’t seem to get along. Carmy’s cousin, Richie (Ebon Moss-Bachrach), is a loudmouth, arrogant jerk; Marcus, the kitchen’s baker, remains slow and unhurried even during the busiest times; Tina (Liza Colón-Zayas) is combative and hardheaded, stuck in her ways; Syd (Ayo Edebiri) is young, talented (almost to the point of overqualification), and impatient; and Carmy who, despite his good intentions, is an angry, perfectionist protagonist with a little too much trauma and grief to bear. With a cast like that, it's hard not to be scared away.

However, soon you’ll find how compelling these characters are. They feel like real, honest-to-god people with a full range of human thoughts, emotions, and deep, tragic flaws that doom them. There are points in the show where I forget that this is a drama, a fictitious TV series, “The Beef” isn’t a real place, and this is not a documentary. This is partly because of the phenomenal performance by the actors—Jeremy Allen White (who you might know as Lip Gallagher from Shameless). He brought home his 3rd consecutive Golden Globes award for Best Performance by a Male Actor for his role as the intense, anxiety-ridden Carmy. Though, outside of just Carmy, every character in the small but close-knit cast is treated with the same care and reverence by both actors and producers.

Every character, despite their many flaws, is still given a meaningful place in the story. The fate of the restaurant grows ever more precarious and it seems likely that their carefully built and hard-earned relationships may fall apart sooner rather than later. Yet, even in their most unlikable moments, you learn to care for the group of troublesome chefs as they struggle to keep the restaurant, a rickety establishment held together by only caulk, dusty drywalls, and love, alive. At its core, The Bear is a story about the things we do for the people we love.