[Editor’s note: The following contains some plot details for The Bear Season 3.]
The tone: After two seasons and a lot of blood, sweat, tears and dropped plates, the stalwart FX chefs Bear They have finally opened their restaurant. In season 1, Carmy (Jeremy Allen White) returned home to bring her Michelin-star experience to his family's drab Italian steakhouse; Season 2 followed his and his team's journey to transform The Beef into the high kitchen restaurant of your dreams. With the evolution complete, season 3 raises the following vital question: Now what?
After all, the quest to get The Bear up and running was just the beginning; Now it has to continue like this. And that's looking increasingly complicated, considering Carmy's increasingly brittle temperament after locking herself in the walk-in last season and scaring his girlfriend, Claire (Molly Gordon); Sydney's (Ayo Edebiri) concern about the future of the restaurant and her place in it; and the multitude of other personal and professional peccadilloes that the rest of The Bear's employees face.
Meanwhile, cousin Richie (Ebon Moss-Bachrach) balances his new love of service with the knowledge that his ex-wife (Gillian Jacobs) is getting remarried. At the same time, Sugar (Abby Elliott) juggles restaurant logistics, the final weeks of her pregnancy, and the uncertainty of both. Meanwhile, the specter of the restaurant's first review looms over her heads like a Sword of Damocles that may cut short her dreams before they've even begun.
Take us to the bear: One of the small miracles that creator Christopher Storer achieved in BearThe second season struck a balance between the everyday melodramas of our cast of characters and the larger saga of their shared goal (the restaurant). Carmy and his team are deeply flawed people who find purpose in a communal ambition; Your professional development is reflected in your sense of self-realization. Their personal lives may be confusing (fragmented relationships, broken families, loss, grief), but the project of the restaurant is what gives them purpose.
In Season 3, Storer plays this up in euphoric, wistful, not to mention tension-inducing ways; take the season’s first episode, a lyrical, meditative half-hour that mostly flickers between Carmy’s past and future, all to the repeated strains of Nine Inch Nails’ “Together” — evocative flashes of scarred palms and the show’s patented food porn — trapping Carmy. In limbo he’ll be all season. He’s terrified for the restaurant’s future and haunted by his personal traumas (the death of his brother Mikey) and professional ones (the abuse of head chef Joel McHale).
After taking a bit of a backseat last season, Carmy is a big focus of attention. He BearAs he begins, as he struggles and replicates the tyrannical management style that emerged when he was a young chef, his colleagues are forced to fight and succumb to his ambitious whims. (In the beginning, he outlines a list of “non-negotiables” that all great restaurants have, ranging from practical items like teaspoons to less expensive items. tangible goals like “constantly evolving through passion and creativity”). It’s a common thread for Carm, as Bear Fans know it, but season three doubles down on its toxicity, White playing on every frayed nerve with his trademark combination of pensive gazes and bulging forehead veins.
The Bear (FX)
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