The Bear (Season 2)

By Hagen Seah

Ravishing Sophomore Season Claws Its Way Into Acclaim

The Bear has suffered a curious turn of events in the past month, to say the least. As a meek independent TV show that launched quietly on Hulu under FX last year, its reputation has since ballooned, fashioning itself a spot among the best shows of the last few years with the release of the newest season near the end of June. This is not due to a lack of competition, as TV has become an increasingly stacked medium with highly respected recent releases like Severance, Abbott Elementary, The White Lotus, and of course, Succession, widely regarded as the greatest show in this current cultural zeitgeist. No – in a world where shows with exceptional concepts and a talented crew continue to get greenlit, The Bear still manages to do something wholly special in its execution. In fact, it manages to adapt its identity to be the perfect escalation of the preceding narrative; while its first season tells the story of a dysfunctional found family, its second begins its penmanship at the construction of their home. 


The show starts and ends with its ensemble cast, who all round out the show perfectly. Jeremy Allen White stars as the structural backbone of the show, whose superficially sturdy though soft emotional core works wonders in contrast to the rest of the members of this found family. Ayo Edibiri, who has found recent fame and garnered critical acclaim in the first season (even apparating an Indie Spirit Award as a result), is even stronger here, as her character’s passion is found at odds with her uncertainty of the restaurant’s potential success. That being said, the list of standout actors is really endless, and this season in particular is filled with guest performances — some more well-known than others. Overall, the cast is one of the show’s greatest strengths and continues to shine. 


The actors are supported by the show’s incredible writing, which manages to make often complicated and wordy jargon feel effortless. For all that one could praise about Succession, that is one of the show’s greatest hamartias, as its eagerness to lean into the kitschy word-vomit results in oblique and very esoteric conversations. By contrast, while I’d argue that The Bear already necessitates the use of jargonistic dialogue even more than Succession, it also manages to do so with such grace, introducing characters who act as a bridge in communication between the convoluted restaurant lingo. The Bear works because it lends itself to relatability not merely by the implication of dialogue for viewers to infer meaning, but also by simplifying said dialogue when necessary in order to convey the joy of cooking to the audience. 


This euphoria is arguably one of the key tenets contributing to the show’s success. Too often, shows use the backdrop of an often misunderstood line of work and spotlights it in order to convey the human experiences at its core. Though that is not inherently a problem, this skeletal structure is too inflexible and too immobile to function for long seasons of TV. Arguably, a fundamental cause of this breakdown could be associated with the showrunner’s lack of genuine joy in the craft they are writing in. This, however, is not a problem for The Bear; this sophomoric season reminds viewers why chefs continue to work in this stressful line of work, even as the show continues to emphasize the pain, struggle and hardship involved in the pipeline to restaurant success. Even small moments that may seem fleeting to those not in the restaurant industry, such as delivering a special meal to a table after overhearing how much they’ve always wanted to eat a particular aperitif, or understanding the customer’s preference for soda over alcohol, are directed and written with so much tenderness that it’s clear that chefs hold them near and dear to their hearts. 


My praise for this season of television is near endless, and if I wanted to, I could honestly write a novel about everything The Bear’s second season just nails. However, to top it all off, I think giving extra plaudits to the crew of The Bear is essential, as they really pulled their weight in making the show look like a visual masterclass. The first season served as an impressive amuse-bouche for what they were capable of, but its follow-up ramps up the style to 110%, often tantalizing the senses with an abrupt assault of pure aerial cinematography coupled with rapid cuts that pair well with the show’s spitfire dialogue. The crew also do a brilliant job in complementing the emotional pace of the scenes; when Marcus stages at Noma, a high-end restaurant in the heart of Copenhagen, the show steps back from its blitzkrieg of bedazzling visual splendor and mellows down with its patient and methodical pacing. When the show finally shows The Bear opening for the first time, the show returns with its boldest attempt at visual communication yet. This versatility in production is what sells the show, and thankfully, The Bear executes every moment practically flawlessly. 


I have neglected to mention the negatives because The Bear is a show whose flaws rarely show, and when they do, it is almost always compensated by a euphoric high greater than the sum of its failures. Occasionally, the show is at odds with its pacing, whose momentum is slightly pelted by an emotional moment. Still, with how raw and fresh the season feels, the moments which leave an imprint in your memory will be sure to outweigh these occasional feelings of unnatural heft. 









9/10