\u201cThe Bear,\u201d Christopher Storer\u2019s critically lauded, much argued over, award-winning series about a Chicago sandwich joint transformed into a fine-dining experience \u2014 to radically oversimplify \u2014 wrapped up its five-course meal Thursday with eight episodes (released at once), transpiring mostly across a single day. As a torrential rainstorm pummels the city, pipes burst, servers quit, shelves empty, money runs out even as the house is seriously overbooked, while chefs Carmy (Jeremy Allen White) and Sydney (Ayo Edebiri) attempt to navigate a new professional relationship \u2014 the show\u2019s typical nexus of practical and emotional crises \u2014 leading to a frenzy of improvisation and ingenuity that brings all hands on deck.<\/p>\n
In the end, the Bear gets not one Michelin star but two; now-broke Uncle Jimmy (Oliver Platt), who spends much of the season trying to secure the building\u2019s \u201csky rights,\u201d finds financial salvation for it in Ebraheim\u2019s (Edwin Lee Gibson) plan to franchise the Beef; Sydney accepts that she is the head chef Carmy could never be and names Tina (Liza Col\u00f3n-Zayas<\/a>) as her chef de cuisine; Marcus (Lionel Boyce) comes to peace with his own greatness; Richie (Ebon Moss-Bachrach), who has never been on a plane, or seemingly outside Chicago, is invited to an international hospitality conference in Japan and finds new love with colleague Jess (Sarah Ramos). And Carmy is turning his creative force to architecture. <\/p>\n L.A. Times TV critic Robert Lloyd and culture critic Mary McNamara, both of whom have written about the show across its run, discuss the show\u2019s final season and its overall legacy.<\/p>\n Robert Lloyd:<\/b> The end of a story always frames what had gone on before, even when none of that might have been perfectly planned \u2014 as in a television show, which doesn\u2019t know whether it will survive for one, two, three or four seasons \u2014 though in the case of \u201cThe Bear,\u201d those early Emmys did guarantee, as much as anything in television is ever guaranteed, that they\u2019d be coming back. Indeed, the final three seasons all run together into a kind of mega season. Maybe it\u2019s obvious, but I\u2019m going to say that in the end, it was all about love \u2014 learning to give it, learning to accept it, learning to love yourself \u2014 with most every major and minor member of the cast onstage at the end for a little girl\u2019s birthday party.<\/p>\n Of all the things humans do for one another, food is possibly the most direct expression of love; it\u2019s the first thing anyone gives us in this world \u2014 I know I\u2019m romanticizing this, given the world\u2019s many indifferent cooks, but as we see in a scene with Marcus and chef Luca (Will Poulter<\/a>), even McDonald\u2019s can be a gift if shared in the right spirit. Maybe it\u2019s an obvious observation, but one of the things I loved about \u201cThe Bear\u201d was its willingness to be nakedly sentimental. You don\u2019t keep playing R.E.M. on the soundtrack if you want to be subtle. I gave this show no end of my tears. But I am a sap.<\/p>\n Food can be a gift, even McDonald\u2019s, as Marcus (Lionel Boyce) and Luca (Will Poulter) show us.<\/p>\n (FX)<\/p>\n<\/p><\/div>\n<\/figure><\/div>\n Mary McNamara<\/b>: I confess that my most audible sob came with the tender nod to the late, great Rob Reiner,<\/a> who made his last screen appearance in Season 4, as business mentor Albert Schur. In the final minutes of the finale, Ebraheim calls Albert with the news that the franchising has begun. When he ends the conversation with \u201cAs you wish,\u201d I just lost it. I did not see that coming.<\/p>\n I did see the happiness of the finale coming though, and that is not a criticism; we could all use a little transcendence these days. Honestly, I hung in through the rather slow opening of this season in large part because I craved the catharsis of seeing it all work out in the end. And it was thrilling to see Storer turn conventional mythology on its head \u2014 Carmy got everything he wanted, including those stars, but not before he accepted that it wasn\u2019t what he needed. His ambition was driven by ghosts and dysfunction, and he was well on his way to becoming one of those tormented \u201cgeniuses\u201d who, in Carmy\u2019s own words, just make everything worse. In another less courageous version, Carmy would simply learn to delegate and calm down rather than admit there was no healthy way forward for him at the Bear. <\/p>\n Even the goal of the Michelin star was kind of underplayed in the end \u2014 what seemed like the goalpost became a spiritual McGuffin.<\/p>\n As you say, it was all about love and family and connection. (Well that, and franchising the Beef.) Even at his haunted and neurotic worst, Carmy instinctively assembled and supported a team capable of rising to every occasion \u2014 it isn\u2019t every chef that would hire someone as obviously talented as Sydney and continually push her to excel, or encourage Tina to dream bigger or see in Richie a potentially steadying and inspiring influence. <\/p>\n Honestly, \u201cThe Bear\u201d was Richie\u2019s story more than anyone\u2019s \u2014 he was certainly the \u201cleast likely to succeed\u201d when the series began, just as deeply wounded by Mikey\u2019s death as Carmy and far more directionless. Syd was always going places, but Richie and Tina \u2014 and, of course, the fabulous Fak brothers, Neil (Matty Matheson) and Ted (Ricky Staffieri) \u2014 were the miracles of the piece. I think Carmy was being too hard on himself when he said he made things worse. He laid the foundation for the Bear, even if he could not stay.<\/p>\n Lloyd:<\/b> As to the slow start of the season, that just struck me as a realistic reflection of the restaurant work day, the way a workplace slowly comes together in the morning. The calm before the storm \u2014 during a storm. It\u2019s a realistic portrayal, even as it\u2019s quite theatrical. The show was always brilliant at orchestrating moods, with its slow-fast, quiet-loud contrasts, its extreme close-ups and noisy action scenes. As the man from Michelin wrote, \u201cThe room felt alive without being precious or trying hard.\u201d<\/p>\n I completely agree about Carmy. I felt at times the show didn\u2019t give him enough credit, but, of course, not giving himself enough credit was part of his character. (That might be me projecting his behavior on Storer, as it were.) As to the staff, remember that, apart from Sydney, who was confident in her talent, which Carmy could recognize, he inherited them all from his much-loved, highly problematic brother, and they didn\u2019t trust him or his \u201cYes, chef\u201d at all. On one level, it\u2019s \u201cThe Bad News Bears\u201d \u2014 the ragtag assembly and a coach in need of a second chance. (\u201cRedemption\u201d is the popular word.) It\u2019s a very satisfying, powerful trope, and gets remade all the time. The way everyone was shown to blossom was no less moving for being (of course) manipulative. If I were Carmy\u2019s life coach, I\u2019d have suggested he become a teacher \u2014 the whole series is an ode to mentorship, and menteeship, not just on his part. Despite some vague hints, I wasn\u2019t at all prepared for his choice of a new direction, the season\u2019s only real reveal, such as it was, coming at the end of a long monologue delivered to Chicago\u2019s own Bonnie Hunt.<\/p>\n That speech, in which Carmy reckons with and contextualizes his own compulsions and choices, put me in mind of your third season essay, in which you considered the show through a lens of alcoholism<\/a> \u2014 it struck me as the sort of thing you might hear at an AA meeting.<\/p>\n With the exception of Sydney, Carmy inherited the staff from his brother. He was able to coach them into fine-dining chefs.<\/p>\n (FX)<\/p>\n<\/p><\/div>\n<\/figure><\/div>\n McNamara:<\/b> \u201cThe Bear\u201d has always been a chronicle of recovery<\/a> \u2014 from addiction, grief, self-doubt, unfortunate circumstances or misplaced ambition \u2014 and recovery always involves accepting that you are not alone in the mess you\u2019ve made of your life or in the efforts to pull yourself out of it. <\/p>\n![\"A](\"https:\/\/ca-times.brightspotcdn.com\/dims4\/default\/ab69c53\/2147483647\/strip\/true\/crop\/2529x1236+208+235\/resize\/320x156!\/format\/webp\/quality\/75\/?url=https%3A%2F%2Fcalifornia-times-brightspot.s3.amazonaws.com%2F41%2F7c%2F1ef70f0045a78322166b5ee93f87%2Fbear-still001-f.jpg)
<\/picture>\n