The Bear: A Chaotic Avatar for Grief
Grief is an interesting state of being. Unpredictable in nature, it has a unique ability to pull out emotions and feelings that have been suppressed long before the grieving began. It can cause a person to act in unfamiliar and destructive ways while processing or even avoiding the process of it. Grief is something that comes from deep and intimate love, bringing with it an indescribable pain and longing. While grief is something we all share, it’s experience is as unique to the individual as it is unpredictable. How we process it, and process it we must, varies from person to person. As anxiety driven, painful and even scary a process it is, (much like most things that carry these emotions) there is something beautiful in it. At the risk of sounding hyperbolic, this experience is mirrored perfectly in the Hulu series, The Bear. A series that takes on its central theme, grieving the loss of a loved one, and sets it in the chaotic and beautiful world of the kitchen.
After the suicide of his brother, Carmen Berzatto, returns home to Chicago leaving behind the fine dining culinary world to run his family’s sandwich shop. “The Original Beef of Chicagoland” is far from what the highly talented Carmy is used to or even wants. The strains of the drowning small business, reluctant staff, family trauma and grief all weigh heavily on him. The brilliance of The Bear comes in the portrayal of this. Not merely communicating the overarching theme of grief and the impact of that (not to mention suicide) on those closest to you, it immerses everything in it. The restaurant and it’s daily strains and frustrations become a metaphor for not just Carmy, but everyone impacted by his brother’s suicide. A chaotic avatar for how grief can feel like the world is crashing in on you and how to persevere through it.
When looking into Carmy’s eyes, we can easily see the pain and trauma that he carries with him. Hidden behind an immense ability to cook, Carmy is suffering. Not only from his brother’s suicide, but from the trauma of his culinary upbringing and even more importantly the relationship he had with his brother. Through each episode we see his reluctance to process these feelings. This causes him to hurt those around him, along with being quite self-destructive. The relationship with his caring, and hurting sister, possibly the most positive relationship he has, quickly becomes strained. His inattentiveness to his own grief allows room for him to ignore hers. She also appears to be the only one that truly see’s Carmy and what he is going through, which adds to the strain. We witness him nearly burn down his apartment as well as the restaurant, on top of constantly lashing out at his staff in a similar fashion to what created his own emotional scarring.
While a lot of this can be written off as a result of a terrible situation. A failing restaurant, that has an insurmountable debt, destructive family dynamics and a staff fighting every single chance they get. It’s clear that every problem in the restaurant, every fight with his cousin and each new problem, is a physical representation of what is happening inside. Jeremy Allen White brings across Carmy’s struggle so beautifully. Almost a tortured genius, that finds relief in the chaos of the kitchen and solace in the routine of greatness. The very same thing that makes him one of the best, is allowing him to fall apart. A dichotomy that is all too familiar to those grieving and/or trying to process trauma.
Through the eyes of sous chef Sydney Adamu, is the other side of The Bear. Sydney has no connection to Carmy’s brother or the suffering of his family and the other chefs at The Original Beef. She is there because she admires Carmy and wants to learn from him. She sees his vision and can bring it to life, unfortunately she too often catches the brunt of his pain. It’s in her where we see the impact our grief can have on those closest to us. Their help forces us to process our pain and push us toward what’s on the other side of that grief. However, that painful process can leave scarring if met with reluctance. Sydney sees what The Original Beef can be, and Carmy has a hard time supporting her because of the state of the business. A beautiful metaphor for how he is managing his grief. Him being clouded by his pain doesn’t allow for him to see the beauty that can come in his healing.
The last metaphor tucked away in The Bear is the beauty that comes on the other side of the grief. A celebration of the person you loved, your time together (and specifically in this case) what they have left for you. Carmy does find this, and so do many of the others effected by Michael’s suicide. The beauty of the moment is quite moving because we were there for all the struggles. Our bond with Carmy and everyone in that restaurant is stronger because of it. We see this manifested throughout each episode by the beautiful food created. Not just by Carmy, but by everyone. It’s through the chaotic fire that this brilliant food is produced, made all the better because of the effort and love poured into it.
The Bear is a brilliant show. One that captures its characters and its themes with honesty and vulnerability. Using its setting to present its themes is masterful and the beauty of the filmmaking has no equal. The Bear isn’t merely a good time, or a hidden gem, it’s one of the best shows out there. Powerful, entertaining, heartfelt and exquisitely made, it must be seen. If for no other reason, to see the incredible portrayal of grief and how to maneuver it.
