Bless this mess: 2024’s big TV swings that thrilled, if didn't always connect
Any year with storytelling swerves this creative is a good one.
The Bear (Photo: FX)
There’s a moment in Bittersweet Motel, Todd Phillips’ tour documentary of the band Phish, when frontman Trey Anastasio is asked about a show from the night before that someone on the crew slighted as sloppy: “I thought it was great; I loved it. So, did somebody think because we missed a change or something, it wasn’t great? I couldn’t fucking care less if we miss a change, or a number of changes. It doesn’t have anything to do with it for me. It’s all about energy. People aren’t there to see us, you know, get through all the sections perfectly.” Now, referencing an outfit very much known for improvisation to discuss a medium, television, that is very much not might seem like a stretch. (That said, glimmers of that “Fuck it, we’ll do it live” spirit can still be found on the small screen: Matt Schimkowitz recently wrote quite wonderfully about the refreshing chaos of John Mulaney Presents: Everybody’s In L.A.) But Anastasio’s larger point—that thrilling moments can be just that, whether or not they segue smoothly to the next beat or fit neatly into the larger project’s puzzle or even its vibe—is a good one.
And in 2024, TV was filled with moves just like this: big narrative and visual swings that, while they didn’t always connect cleanly to what lay ahead, nevertheless burst with creativity and were inspiring, moving, impressive, and, in some cases, just plain fun to watch unfold. The most obvious example of this over the past 12 months, if only because this show was the most anticipated, lauded, and well-known of the ones discussed here, has to be The Bear, which kicked off its third season with an episode that could be categorized as artistically brave or indulgent depending on your tastes. (I sit firmly in the former camp; and for the sake of clarity and scope, I limited this discussion to series that made my individual top 15 shows of the year list—that is, ones that I legitimately loved—so there will be no picking apart of, say, the ambitious narration of Get Millie Black or Baby Reindeer, as much as that phenom’s tonal ping-ponging fits the bill here.)
Back to The Bear: “Tomorrow,” written and directed by Christopher Storer (with stunning cinematography by Andrew Wehde) opens before dawn, with a shot of the Metra train platform, a shoreless Lake Michigan, the Chicago skyline as day breaks, and finally Carmy (Jeremy Allen White) alone in his apartment, a bruised man inspecting the scar on his palm as the city awakes with the faint sounds of car honks. Then the screen cuts to black, and Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross’ hypnotic “Together” starts playing on a loop and doesn’t let up (save for a clever beat when Olivia Colman’s Chef Terry instructs, “Chefs, quiet”) for 30 minutes as the show takes us on a dialogue-light journey through the past and present, a mélange Carm’s professional and personal highs and lows (picking Napa Valley produce in the morning dew, having a smoke after that Christmas car crash that he’ll never shake) that ends with the man alone—always alone—scribbling down “non-negotiables” in The Bear’s kitchen.