‘The Bear’ Becomes What It Should Have Always Been

The Bear was always at its best when it was firmly set in what’s known in the restaurant world as “back of house,” so it’s appropriate that showrunner Christopher Storer set the final season during one exceptionally grueling day at the flagging restaurant. Considering that the previous seasons took place over the course of months, the revised structure has comparisons to The Pitt flying hard and fast by journalists and viewers alike. Needlessly so, since the two shows feel worlds apart despite sharing a few similarities. No, the pivot to this structure, if not original—not that The Pitt originated the one-day season, either—is perfectly tailored to close out the series, leaving me with the question, “am I going to miss The Bear?”

After the show’s critically lauded first season, each one thereafter proved to be a roller coaster in terms of quality. Season two was almost as great, a solid sophomore effort—its reputation gets a bump thanks to two of the series’ most popular episodes, “Forks” and “Fishes.” The cracks were on full display in season three, but its greatest offense (aside from that cliff-hanger) is how utterly forgettable it was, whereas the fourth season felt like an aberration, something plucked out of the Bill Lawrence feel-good universe instead of the gripping drama that brought viewers in the first place.

It took five seasons to work out the ratios, but the end result is something far more palatable (I promise the food puns will be minimal!). When a storm brings down a month’s worth of rain down on the city of Chicago in one day’s time, the crew of The Bear undergo the hardest shift they’ve ever faced. Within the opening ten minutes, the reservation app goes down, Richie (Ebon Moss-Bachrach) gets into a car accident, and the torrential downpour clogs a pipe with catastrophic results. Oh, and Uncle Jimmy’s (Oliver Platt) countdown clock just hit zero.

If it’s not enough that the restaurant is quite literally falling apart in front of them, the team itself is on shaky ground. Knowing the clock’s struck on Jimmy’s deadline for The Bear turning a profit already has the crew in low spirits even before the flooding started. Sydney (Ayo Edebiri) and Richie are trying to conduct themselves as the newly minted business partners they are now that Carmy’s (Jeremy Allen White) decided to walk away from the restaurant business. Since the crew have yet to be informed that Carmy, the man responsible for bringing them all together in the first place, will be departing—understandable when you’re having to deal with the seventh circle of restaurant hell—it’s causing some additional strain on the revised chain of command.

This is where the show finds its sweet spot. The specter of Mikey (Jon Bernthal, whose usual flashback appearance is mostly fulfilled by the fifth season prequel Gary) has blessedly dissipated; as the show began expanding its focus on other members of the kitchen staff like Sy, Marcus (Lionel Boyce), and Tina (Liza Colón-Zayas), the insertions of grief started to feel belabored. Although the dysfunctional Berzatto clan makes for some convenient drama, the most interesting episodes are far and away the ones that are happy to ruminate on craft (Marcus learning pastry in Copenhagen, for example).

Season five still gives in to the compulsion to linger the family drama at times (the Berzatto extended family continues expanding thanks to what’s only a vaguely interesting pursuit of air rights) but smartly hews close to the action going on in the kitchen. Give me a hundred episodes of canceled wagyu orders, rationed brioche (and the ingenious solution), and a panic-stricken Sweeps (Corey Hendrix) trying to positively ID a ‘97 red wine. Even front of house amuses that to a nerve-wracking game of table swapping, thanks to Richie’s inability to cancel any reservations.

But The Bear had to come to a close, and at significantly less than a hundred episodes—the return to eight episodes, instead of the ten the series had been running for the past three seasons, actually only helped. Seven might have been even better, or perhaps some fat trimmed like the manufactured friction between Marcus and Luca (Will Poulter) or Jamie Lee Curtis’ seemingly mandatory cameo, one that’s extended by Sugar’s (Abby Elliott) baffling demand to have Donna trek across Chicago with a baby in tow while the storm that necessitated Noah’s ark rages on. It’s unnecessary, especially when viewers were granted a big dessert-like epilogue, albeit one that’s overly sweet at times (Lucas delivers a line about family straight out the Dominic Toretto playbook).

After giving it thought, I’m not gonna miss The Bear per se, but I am gonna miss the hell out of newly-promoted chef de cuisine Tina (“Whenever, wherever, I’m your Jeff,” whoops, there goes my heart), Marcus, and Sydney. The story, however, is very much done, and at five seasons, The Bear has had more time than plenty of shows (and, sadly, many of the real world establishments it tips its hat towards) to fulfill the what it set out to do: Let it rip.

All five seasons of The Bear are available on Hulu.

Kaleena Rivera is the TV Editor for Pajiba.