The Bear comes roaring back for its much-anticipated third season, except it doesn’t. At least not initially. The first episode of the new series is a reflective mood piece rather than the usual all-action anxiety watch this show is so good at conjuring up.
We left Carmy (Jeremy Allen White) stuck in his own restaurant’s fridge, blowing up his life and pushing away all those nearest and dearest to him. Season three and he’s out of the fridge and has fixed that troublesome lock, but not much else.
He’s isolated in the fine-dining Chicago restaurant he created from his dead brother’s sandwich shop, by himself polishing glasses, wiping tables, and – a visual representation of the chaos he brings – kicking over ice buckets for the sheer hell of it.
The episode focuses on Carmy and his backstory, played through a collage of scenes soundtracked by meditative piano music. Dialogue is minimal.
And they are often moments we’ve seen before, at least in small part, but like the best sauces the added depth of letting this simmer further brings a richness to the character and the show that will likely play out over the entire series.
There are moments of looking forward to events after season two, mainly about grief, but really this is about what made Carmy Carmy. The failures and successes in the kitchen. The toxic behaviour he encountered in some workplaces, the support in others. And the family life that led him to run away to New York in the first place.
All of this feeds into the list he starts writing of ‘non negotiables’ for working in his kitchen. It shows him with different chefs, in different countries, learning different skills (turns out he’s super quick at shelling peas) and different mottos – including ‘Every second counts’.
Often the work environment is completely different: one head chef doesn’t like Carmy sharply hurrying up a junior, while another stands over him, belittling him, and regularly throwing his dishes in the bin.
The format and the style of this first episode is somewhat mesmeric. Beautifully shot and increasingly haunting as storylines are thrown into the mix, as hope dims in some aspects of his life, and moments of clarity appear elsewhere.
There is a lot of slicing and dicing, creating impossibly lush dishes. This is food as art, it may not make the mouth water, but it’s impossible not to admire the sheer beauty… you’d certainly stick it on your Instagram. This is food porn writ large.
So as it sets up season three it says: here is a man, built up, broken and built up again by his experiences – holding it together but for how long. And it poses the question: which way is he going to go now? Follow the path of the lovely English chef played by Olivia Colman, or the dictator in the kitchen.
As his brow furrows and he scribbles those non negotiables about the pursuit of excellence, focus and a culture of no excuses, it feels like he won’t be taking the easy route. But why would he? That’s why we’re all here too – just waiting for that anxiety to come flooding back.
