In a feat of close-up magic, White looks years younger here—eyes bright, posture straighter, a hopeful smile lighting up his face. He’s telling Mikey why he loves restaurants so much: They’re places where people go to gather, celebrate, and feel less alone in the world. He proposes that the two of them open one of their own. “We could take care of people. We could make it calm,” he says, describing exactly what their childhood wasn’t. Mikey is all doom and gloom, brooding over his latest failed business venture and their asshole dad. But by the end of the scene, Carmy’s charmed him into feeling hopeful about the future.
Carm wakes up to the sight of Bill Murray jerking out of bed in Groundhog Day. “What if there is no tomorrow? There wasn’t one today,” perpetual grump Phil Connors is grumbling into the phone. It’s a bit on the nose for Carmy’s situation, underlining that going back into that miserable kitchen day in and day out is so repetitive, he might as well be stuck in a time loop. But Harold Ramis’ existential classic is a perfect foundational text for this show: a depressed guy who’s lost his passion for life banging his head against the wall and flirting with suicide instead of changing his circumstances. But where Phil Connors is caught in a cosmic snare, Carm is gnawing his leg off in a trap he laid himself.
When Sydney (Ayo Edebiri) comes upon her business partner in the kitchen that morning, she’s already prepared to do damage control in re: the Trib review. The gist: Though The Bear serves up creative dishes, it’s bogged down by inconsistent service, an ever-changing menu, and overall weird vibes. Syd correctly points out that Carm needs to stop telling himself the lie that he needs that chaos to work his magic; it’s not only screwing up his life, but the lives of everyone in his orbit. He promises he’ll do better, because his traumatized brain thinks he’s still talking to Chef David, not his friend and colleague who wants the best for him. What he should be focusing on, she says, is being “less miserable.”
Enter Uncle Jimmy (Oliver Platt) and blunt accountant the Computer (Brian Koppelman) to bring the mood down 10 more notches. They gather the team, including Richie (Ebon Moss-Bachrach) and Natalie (Abby Elliott, her calling in from home) around the kitchen island to deliver the bad news: The business was already floundering, but the Trib review is the final nail in the coffin. Unless they can pull off a miracle, The Bear will shutter in two months’ time.
To prove they’re not screwing around, the Computer installs a digital clock in the kitchen counting down the hours, minutes, and seconds until the ax falls. Carmy swears they’ll get a Michelin star by then—a pipe dream if there ever was one. Putting a literal clock on the season is a smart corrective to the glacial pacing of season three. The queasy thrill of a time crunch is the perfect thing to awaken The Bear from its hibernation.
Richie can’t always be relied upon to make smart business choices (“I blame it on my elegance,” he tells Nat when she chews him out for blowing their front-of-house budget on flower arrangements), but he knew what he was doing when he scooped up the crack trio who kept the trains moving at Ever, led by expeditor extraordinaire Jessica (Sarah Ramos), to whip the Bear into shape. Cue an ’80s-style training montage, complete with a propulsive synth beat, as the gang attempts to wrest order from the chaos before doors that evening. I broke out in hives when Jessica set up three kitchen timers and started sticking bright red Post-it notes to order cards that took too long to plate. But it’s exactly what the restaurant needs.
Things don’t go totally smoothly, of course. By the end of the night, the counter is plastered in red Post-its. But Carmy doesn’t have any PTSD flashbacks, and Richie doesn’t pop a blood vessel. When it comes to The Bear, that’s not nothing. Just as Groundhog Day taught us, making it to a better tomorrow (or, for that matter, tomorrow at all) takes time.
Stray observations
- • The Bear may be struggling, but The Beef isn’t. The sandwich window is a critical and financial success—even the Trib loves it. It’s also nabbed a free delivery robot that Chuckie (Paulie James) says no one should freak out about if they see it rolling around outside.
- • Carmy sends occasional texts to Mikey’s long-disconnected number—a heartbreaking detail we learn when he remembers the name of their dad’s favorite Chicago dive. Another message from not too long ago: You were right about Claire Bear.
- • Koppelman and Platt have a blast with a back-and-forth involving the phrase “beating a dead horse” that includes a Panzer tank, a woodchipper, immolation, drowning, and “blasting a wet fuckin’ crap all over it.” That poor horse never saw it coming.
- • Even though Natalie is on maternity leave, she’s still very much running The Bear from her place. Those secondhand bad vibes can’t be good for the baby’s health.
- • Frustratingly, Sydney is still ignoring calls from Adam Shapiro about his offer for her to be CDC at his new restaurant. It’s frankly insane that he’s still giving her chances.
- • If Carmy is Phil in Groundhog Day, Neil (Matty Matheson) is for sure Ned Ryerson.
