I’ve noticed multiple critics say, “The Bear manages to avoid a sophomore slump…,” or something along those lines, when summing up their feelings about its second season. It’s almost as if those critics anticipated The Bear to fail at some point, which is understandable given the high standard its first season set. Nevertheless, I expected quite the opposite coming into season two; I expected greatness, and change. After all, the finale of season one strongly indicated that creator-writer Christopher Storer and Co. had a considered vision for the show’s future, or at least, that was my assumption. What I did not foresee, however, was just how much The Bear would improve in its second outing, and simultaneously, how much my enjoyment of it would grow. If it’s not the top series on TV/streaming right now, it’s certainly in the upper echelon.
After discovering his older brother’s hidden cache of cash, Carmy (Jeremy Allen White), Richie (Ebon Moss-Bachrach), Sydney (Ayo Edebiri), and Sugar (Abby Elliott) lead a rebuild of The Beef, renaming it “The Bear”. Seeking to transform their restaurant into a Michelin-star establishment, they ask for a further loan from Uncle Jimmy (Oliver Platt), who wants a quick turnaround. Realizing they need to open within three months in order to maximize earnings, Carmy and his team push themselves to their limits. I wouldn’t blame you if you’d think that such an endeavor would evoke the same, or even increased, levels of stress that season one became famous for. Yes, that trademark madness is there, but season two balances its loud with some quiet. The end result: narrative perfection.
If season one of The Bear had a glaring weakness, it was that its use of chaos and shouting, usually via Richie, became tiresome after a while. Not only that, those high-volume scenes, while useful for comedy, often overshadowed the softer, character-driven moments, diminishing their impact. Storer and his writing staff either picked up on this, or that was their plan the entire time, hoping that turning it down would help supplement character arcs in subsequent episodes. Either way, season two adjusts the energy from unreasonably crazy to reasonably crazy, or if you will, from sandwich shop to fine dining. The end result is that, while less comedic, The Bear is more watchable than ever. And personally, given that I found its first season to be thoroughly nerve-racking, this was a much-welcomed progression.
These changes are most apparent in season two’s quasi-bottle episodes, such as one in which Marcus (Lionel Boyce) travels to Copenhagen to study pastry under Carmy’s old colleague, Chef Luca (Will Poulter, the first of many cameos).* I didn’t know I was that interested in Marcus until this episode, which was the one that made me fully realize just how finely The Bear was maturing. Another of these narrative diversions follows Richie as he heads off to hone his skills at a three-Michelin-star restaurant in Chicago. This was my favorite episode of the season, as it not only revealed a great deal about Richie, but it also illuminated why many people in hospitality break their backs for so little reward (it’s not always about money). In fact, this whole season feels like a love letter to food, the people who make it, and the people who serve it. If someone approached me to write ten episodes that told a story, advanced its characters, and complimented the entire food service industry, I wouldn’t know where to start. Season two of The Bear does all those things and makes it look easy.
A clever side-effect of these bottle episodes is that Jeremy Allen White, whose star is on the rise, only has to play the lead roughly half of the time. This likely freed him up to work on other projects, while simultaneously allowing other actors – like Moss-Bachrach, Edebiri, and Elliott – to shine. This relative lack of Carmy could be irksome for some fans of The Bear, but I didn’t mind it really. After all, when Carmy does feature, he’s obviously very much the main character still, and his subplot in season two is very engaging on the whole. Other than starting a new restaurant, he finds himself falling for Claire (Molly Gordon), a childhood friend that he hasn’t seen in ages. At first, I thought a romantic interest for Carmy would mainly be utilized as a plot device, but I was so wrong.
For one reason or another, platonic relationships are beyond the grasp of most screenwriters. Normally, when a series has a heterosexual male (like Carmy) and a heterosexual female (like Sydney) existing in close proximity, things either turn sexual, one of them quickly gets a BF/GF, or it’s revealed that one of the two is gay. This is why I assumed that Claire was option B, a romantic partner tossed in purely to keep Carmy from courting Sydney. Man, was I off. Carmy and Claire’s relationship feels organic rather than contrived, with childhood history adding a surprising amount of depth to it. And, as everyone keeps reminding Carmy, Claire is actually really good for him. The best element of their burgeoning romance is how it could potentially distract Carmy from a job that requires 100% of his attention and energy. Is it fair that Sydney and the staff might have to pick up the slack if Carmy divides his focus? Is it fair to be frustrated that Carmy finally found something outside of work that’s healthy and happy? These are difficult questions that real-life people deal with, and that make the show’s viewers pause and ponder for a moment. So yeah, Claire isn’t a plot device; she’s simply a woman with bad timing. Huh, I didn’t see that one coming.
As I contemplate my conclusion, I’m beginning to realize that what I loved so much about The Bear season two is that every creative decision felt earned. Characters alter their behavior because their life experiences and circumstances demand they do, not because the writers need them to for some dramatic purpose. And even as these characters go through their arcs, the core traits that make them who they are remain the same. This means that when this show opts for drama over comedy, or vice versa, it’s not jarring anymore. It’s all The Bear; every laugh, every tear, all of it. And most impressively, season two wouldn’t work as well as it does if season one wasn’t so frenzied. Every scene of every episode has had purpose, and as the series moves forward in part two, that fact becomes increasingly evident. Like restaurants with Michelin stars, the question now is about quality retention. Will The Bear be able to keep this up in season three and beyond? Frankly, I don’t care right now. Season two was the perfect meal, and I’m fully sated.
If I had to score it, I’d give season two of The Bear a 10/10.
Notes:
* The cameo/guest stars this season are constantly stunning, not just because of the heft of the talent, but also because the actors fit their roles so well. Oliver Platt again recurs as Jimmy, a role that’s both utilitarian (his wealth advances the plot) and multi-dimensional. Platt remains a flawless bit of casting too; he’s fantastic. Jon Bernthal also returns and acts his butt off in an episode loaded with cameos and taxing dramatic moments. And then there’s Jamie Lee Curtis, whose acting is so good here, I’d go as far as to argue it surpasses her performance that won her an Academy Award. This is a top highlight in a career full of highlights.
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