[Editor’s note: The recap of episode three publishes June 28. This recap contains spoilers.]
The first two years of The Bear were so good that they more than earned viewers’ goodwill. But last season stretched our patience to the breaking point by raising and then failing to answer some major questions: Will Carmy ever reach out to Claire (Molly Gordon) after their brutal, accidental breakup? Will he and Richie ever mend fences? Will Sydney ever sign the partnership agreement? And most importantly, will Carm ever apologize for anything ever? The second installment of season four sees movement on at least some of these unresolved plot threads—and boy, is it refreshing. The episode also brings back The Bear’s signature blend of comedy and catharsis.
Richie extends a tentative hand toward Carmy as he mopes at a two-top after an exhausting shift. At first, Richie thinks it’s an act to trick him into checking in, but the tears hanging in Jeremy Allen White’s big blue eyes tell a different story. What follows isn’t a reconciliation, exactly—but the wordless exchange the two share in the deep-sea light of the dining room is a start.
Meanwhile, Carmy is finally emerging from a season-long fugue state. For the first time in a long time, he has escaped the prison of his own brain and noticed the hard work of the people around him, who have grown and evolved while he was stuck in a holding pattern. The one to snap him out of it is Tina, arguably The Bear’s most diligent and passionate employee. Did Carmy know that apologizing is good for the soul and helps you make less stupid decisions? Also, has he visited the baby yet? (When he asks which baby she’s referring to, she threatens to shove a spoon up his ass.)
Sufficiently chastised, Carm calls Natalie to apologize for being too distracted to meet his own friggin’ niece. While Bob Dylan sings about how he can keep his chin up most of the time despite what he’s lost, the sibs finally have a conversation that isn’t about the business. Carm says he’s doing fine (lies!), and Nat says it’s making her really, really happy (truth!) to spend quality time with her daughter and her endlessly supportive husband. It scares her, though—a heartbreaking echo of her brother’s long-ago confession that he’s always bracing for the other shoe to drop.
She shares a memory that resurfaced recently about the day she dropped Carmy off at O’Hare so he could start his new life as a chef in New York. “You had such a spark,” she tells him. “It was this beautiful thing that was somebody being in love with something and being fucking great at it—and being loved back.”
Carm has been dancing so hard to convince himself that he still has that fire inside him. But Nat knows better. In one of the series’ most moving moments, she tells her bro that it’s okay if he’s fallen out of love with cooking: “The most special part about it is that you were capable of that love.” It’s a sentiment that will ring true for anyone who’s loved and lost: Letting go doesn’t cancel out the fact that whatever made you feel that way expanded your capacity to love whatever comes next. Nothing lasts—and that’s the beauty and the terror of being alive.
Maybe Carm isn’t ready to fully let go, but he is willing to cede some creative control to Sydney. To save money, Nat has told them that they’ve got to drastically cut down the amount of ingredients per dish. When he catches her pitching the revised menu to Sweeps (Corey Hendrix), she’s braced for a chewing-out. But new-and-improved Carmy says he trusts her to call the shots.
Our boy’s apology tour also takes him to good, sweet Ebraheim (Edwin Lee Gibson), whose efforts promoting and manning the sandwich window represent The Bear’s only true success. Despite that, he’s down on himself for failing to “create opportunity” for the business since he dropped out of culinary school. Carmy assures him that he very much has been and promises to have his back in the future.
While his cousin is on the upswing, Richie is heading toward rock bottom. He’s been pouring every bit of himself into making The Bear work, but a man can only handle so much disappointment before every second stops counting. Post-shift, he does a Charlie Brown walk to a dive and nurses a PBR while watching Glenn Ford wax poetic about lost time in 3:10 To Yuma. Later, alone in his sad little twin-size bed, he prays for his luck to turn around, because he says that the restaurant is “the last thing that’s actually keeping me attached to anything.” It’s a devastating sentiment coming from a man with a young daughter who, Josh Hartnett or not, still very much needs her dad. The clock might be ticking for The Bear, but this episode suggests that there’s no expiration date on turning your life around for the better.
Stray observations
- • Carmy tells Natalie that there’s something he’s been meaning to tell her about Mikey, but their conversation moves on before he gets the chance. Considering we still know next to nothing about the circumstances of the eldest Berzatto sibling’s death, I desperately hope this comes up again before too long.
- • Cameo of the week: When Sweeps confesses that he’s feeling overwhelmed by his duties as The Bear’s in-house wine expert, Sydney sends him across town to meet with master sommelier Alpana Singh, who used to host Chicago’s now-defunct (and really great) dining show Check, Please!
- • Another dangling thread that gets picked up in this episode is Natalie’s mysterious feud with Neil Fak’s sister Francie. Apparently Pete (Chris Witaske) ran into his wife’s ex-BFF at the gym, where she told him to pass along the message that she says hi. Abby Elliott’s delivery of, “Is she hot? DON’T ANSWER THAT” is a reminder that in addition to being a world-class dramatic actor, she’s also extremely funny.
- • Syd tries her best to explain to Carmy why the farmers who supply the restaurant’s fruits and veggies have started charging them double, but he continues to be endearingly awful at math: “Six is less than 10,” he says. With the patience of a saint, Sydney responds, “Many things are less than 10.”
- • Determined to never be caught unawares again, Richie creates a conspiracy board to try to determine the identity of a restaurant critic. Donnie (Donnie Madia) offers up a couple fascinating trade secrets: To keep their targets guessing, reviewers will sometimes book under a fake name or bring a celebrity along as a distraction.
