From the moment it first fired the burners, The Bear didn’t invite viewers in to its various kitchens so much as grab us by the collar and yank us bodily through the door. A little rude, sure, but that was the point: Once you step inside The Original Beef Of Chicagoland, you’re family. That kind of love runs deep, but it sure as hell isn’t polite.
Christopher Storer’s culinary dramedy started out loud and messy and visceral. You could practically smell the cooking grease and flop sweat, taste the saucy tang on the air. Even as the extended Berzatto clan became more buttoned-up, they never lost that heady umami; they just got a little quieter, a little more introspective. In its fifth and final season, The Bear changes up its rhythm one last time as the titular fine-dining restaurant moves through what might be its last service.
In a break from previous seasons, this one takes place over the course of a single day, à la The Pitt. And though the gang may not be dealing with catastrophic injuries, they are certainly dealing with catastrophe. It’s an audacious change of pace that pays off: After four years, we know these people well enough for our hearts to race right alongside theirs, moving through anxiety, anger, and ferocious love in (relative) real time.
That goes for the transition between seasons four and five, too, with the show’s final premiere begins the morning after whiz kid chef Carmy Berzatto (Jeremy Allen White) dropped the tough news that he was leaving The Bear—and the business altogether—even as the restaurant faces an uncertain future. Newly solo head chef Sydney Adamu (Ayo Edebiri) finds herself thrust into an impossibly difficult day: A historically heavy rainstorm has hit Chicago, causing the pipes to burst and the basement to flood. To boot, the restaurant is out of money, short on ingredients, and dangerously overbooked. As the hours tick by, the gang is forced to improvise to make it through to close.
When Sydney accidentally spills the beans about Carmy’s imminent departure, it throws everyone off. What’s The Bear without Bear? After four seasons of watching Carmy stubbornly tamping down his emotions and drowning in his demons, it’s refreshing to see him finally opening up to the people who love him and being rewarded in kind. With his big blue puppy eyes and frenetic energy, White has crafted a legendary TV protagonist. This far into the show, Carmy feels so real and complex that it’s all we can do not to reach through the TV screen and ruffle his messy hair. It’s equally cathartic to see Sydney truly come into her own as her mentor passes the torch; together, White and Edebiri have built a compelling tale of creative partnership the likes of which we haven’t seen since Mad Men’s Don and Peggy.
And don’t worry, bears: Our beloved cousin Richie Jerimovich (Ebon Moss-Bachrach) survived that early morning car accident injury-free. Still, he’s rattled—not just by the T-boning, but a memory of a long-ago day he spent with his now-dead BFF Mikey (Jon Bernthal), the charismatic mess of a man whose suicide kicked off this story in the first place. (If you haven’t caught the special episode “Gary,” which surprise dropped last month, do yourself a favor and watch it before you start season five.) Meanwhile, restaurant manager Natalie (Abby Elliott) has made the risky decision of leaving her baby in the shaky hands of her unstable-but-trying mom, Donna (Jamie Lee Curtis), whom she and her brother Carmy have recently allowed back into their life. Elsewhere, Uncle Jimmy (Oliver Platt) and his buddy The Computer (Brian Koppelman) are making a last-ditch effort to keep the Bear afloat.
Despite the accelerated pace, the first seven episodes of the season (the series finale wasn’t provided to critics) take time to wrap up the stories of The Bear‘s sprawling ensemble. Following his shoutout in Food & Wine, budding pastry chef Marcus (Lionel Boyce) is losing his trademark sense of calm—and taking it out on his buddy and right-hand man, Luca (Will Poulter). In a show that’s all about relationships, it’s beautiful to watch a side story that centers the ins and outs of intimate friendship. Meanwhile, Sydney’s righthand woman, Tina (Liza Colón-Zayas), continues to blossom as a chef and collaborator. The budding romance between Richie and expeditor extraordinaire Jessica (Sarah Ramos) even gets some new beats. Unfortunately, as in the past, The Bear peppers in way too much Neil Fak (Matty Matheson), whose clownish man-child behavior feels like it belongs in another show entirely.
As the day progresses, the rhythm and tone of The Bear starts to change again, bringing back some of that dirty-jazz dialogue that made people fall for the series in the first place. It’s all backed by an instrumental score from Oscar-winning film composer Hans Zimmer, which is a big pivot for a show famous for needle drops from artists like Eddie Vedder, Van Morrison, and Wilco. At first, Zimmer’s score feels a little clinical and lethargic, but that’s by design: When the day starts to pick up, the tempo of the music picks up, too; by the end, it has all the propulsion of a great heist movie.
In his final act of legerdemain, Storer and his team have created a fitting sendoff to one of the most intimate series in modern television. We love these people with all their many faults because they love each other and we’ve been privy to that love. In all its prickly, greasy beauty, The Bear leaves us with the feeling that, in the end, we’re all bears.
Keep scrolling for more great stories.