I forgot one thing in my list above. Asking for help. Carmy doesn't know how to call Claire. He either doesn't have access to his words, or he doesn't know how to form them, or he's decided to pave them over with the discipline of his art.
But he clearly needs to ask for help, in a bunch of ways. So self-reliance and discipline and hard work are all double-edged swords in the show. The more we ask for help, the better we and our art will be.
My favorite scene of the series is Carmie at an Alanon meeting. Just his face. He’s such a talented actor, and he captured that moment when you walk into a room, and you suddenly feel understood, or that there is hope, that there are other people in the world who might be experiencing the intense pain that you are experiencing, and somehow that makes it a little better. I think the show is exceptional. And yet I’m struggling with season three. It’s not that I need the narrative arc or resolution. I do feel the writers have lean too heavily on conflict as a means of communication. The nonstop yelling in some of the episodes in season three instead of being intense or exciting are just kind of tiresome for me. I want them to stop yelling and talk to each other. I do still think it’s an amazing show overall. I love the lessons on creativity you take from the show. Great post.
Thanks, Joanell. I think you're right: the formula of conflict/communication should maybe evolve a bit more. It has in moments, but the creators definitely have a go-to punch to make viewers feel uncomfortable, and that can (and perhaps should) be modulated. I've definitely felt the same.
I love the Alanon meeting as well. Just re-watched his 7-minute monologue (it's on YouTube), which is so amazing.
Loved this. Thank you for the quote from Tony. This piece took me back to my first fine dining restaurant job, the BOH of a French Bakery where I was the cake baker, and the lakefront restaurant in Montana I owned, where I did it all, the only chef 17 hours a day, 7 days a week, each summer, my kids as my waitstaff and sous chef. I taught them about the heart and soul of restaurant life-- from working a room to creating specialty dishes folks would come back for, how to create a three egg omelet and why the vest coffee on the lake matters. Yet the best part are all the stories we have to tell about the life we lived and breathed in the back of the house.
Your Montana restaurant sounds like it's worth its own show (or a memoir?). I bet your kids have a lot of great memories (and stories). And "The Back of the House" is a great title.
Thanks for this post, Grant. I just watched episode 1 last night and found it repetitive and hard to get through, and, like a lot like some literary novels I struggle to get into, more about the expression of art for art's sake rather than storyline—and I guess when it comes to fiction, I love a good storyline. That said, I like your take because it reminds me of countless conversations we've had on the podcast about art, different styles, what we like and don't like, and why. I completely understand why you love this show, and now this season, and now I feel like (maybe) I'll finish Season 3 to see what you see. I like the idea of immersing myself into the experience of Carmy's pain, however uncomfortable, and like you, I worked in restaurants for almost a decade and I think a lot of people are addicted to the chaos, and as you rightly defined it, the aliveness, of it all. Thanks for this good analysis!
Thanks, Brooke. Season 3 is definitely the toughest of the three to watch, and probably the most uneven overall (and certainly the least "story-driven"), so it's definitely not for everyone (as its reception is evident of). That said, if it was focused on being story-driven and pleasing to viewers, I just don't think it could have served the larger truths it's aiming to represent, so I'm willing to accept its messiness and rough edges (and maybe even embrace its messiness and rough edges as its purpose), because in the end, the show's ambition, its need to subvert expectations to show its truth, is what resonates the most—not in the short term pleasure, but when I remember it all later. There's probably a good cooking metaphor in here about how the best dishes might be even better in memory than they were in the moment. I look forward to hearing more of your thoughts when you've watched more!
Thanks so much, Gaye. It was definitely hard to watch for me at times. I think sometimes we use "hard to watch" as a critique, but it can also be a good thing because "hard to watch" (or "hard to read") can be what's necessary for the artist to realize their vision (and lead us to new places). I understand the show isn't for everyone, and that's fine, of course. But I hope it continues to be hard to watch when necessary. That's not an easy thing to do on commercial TV.
Such a beautiful piece you wrote about an extraordinary show showing art created from the tragedy of alcoholism. I spent so much of my life living that way and probably still do more than I want to admit. I'm finding "The Bear" storytelling at its finest!
Thank you so much, Lisa, There are many of us who "probably still do more" than we want to admit. Here's to telling the story with creative approaches.
I so agree with this. I was like, why am I one of the few people who likes season 3? Between being an adult child of an alcoholic who has struggled with workaholism, and a writer obsessed with process, it makes perfect sense! Excellent analysis, Grant.
Thanks so much for your comment. Yeah, I feel like the show is being judged with the wrong standards--not the standards it's trying to achieve. I'm glad you enjoyed Season 3 as much as I did.
I love this. Thanks for alerting me to this show. Will check it out. Although, Elizabeth Gilbert may disagree that only “pain can drive our art” which I don’t think you are implying. I think she puts it differently in “Big Magic” asserting that many creatives are taught to put their faith in the struggle. I have to reread that chapter on “Pain” but your post made me think of that. :)
Thanks so much, Britta. Yeah, I intentionally put the "can" in the sentence about pain. Because pain sometimes also "can't" drive your art. Or it certainly doesn't have to be a driver or the main driver, etc.
No matter what, though, making something is a struggle, and we have to live in a degree of discomfort because a creation is always some sort of disruption by definition. Let me know what you think of The Bear if you watch it.
Saving this post to return to! In preparation for season 3 we’re rewatching season 2, and I keep thinking of the tenderness and quiet (and loneliness) of the Marcus-in-Copenhagen episode, and the way he gets better as he practices. It’s a beautiful contrast to most of the episodes, especially the bravura, over the top Christmas episode.
Loved the Copenhagen episode. And the way the show pauses for episodes like that. But I liked the Christmas episode as well because it was a different kind of pause (or immersion, rather).
I rewatched the last episode of season 2 halfway through season 3. Then just started re-watching from season 1. The show really requires rewatching because I was surprised what I found that I didn’t see the first time around.
Yes to all this. Especially "...we fix some things, and some things get broken in the fixing, and sometimes we don’t even know what to fix or how to fix it." Great post. Now I want to watch The Bear.
Thanks, Barbara! And ... yes, I hope you watch The Bear. It's great in many ways beyond my post. And it takes narrative risks that I didn't think possible on a mainstream show. If you watch it, let me know what you think.
I forgot one thing in my list above. Asking for help. Carmy doesn't know how to call Claire. He either doesn't have access to his words, or he doesn't know how to form them, or he's decided to pave them over with the discipline of his art.
But he clearly needs to ask for help, in a bunch of ways. So self-reliance and discipline and hard work are all double-edged swords in the show. The more we ask for help, the better we and our art will be.
My favorite scene of the series is Carmie at an Alanon meeting. Just his face. He’s such a talented actor, and he captured that moment when you walk into a room, and you suddenly feel understood, or that there is hope, that there are other people in the world who might be experiencing the intense pain that you are experiencing, and somehow that makes it a little better. I think the show is exceptional. And yet I’m struggling with season three. It’s not that I need the narrative arc or resolution. I do feel the writers have lean too heavily on conflict as a means of communication. The nonstop yelling in some of the episodes in season three instead of being intense or exciting are just kind of tiresome for me. I want them to stop yelling and talk to each other. I do still think it’s an amazing show overall. I love the lessons on creativity you take from the show. Great post.
Thanks, Joanell. I think you're right: the formula of conflict/communication should maybe evolve a bit more. It has in moments, but the creators definitely have a go-to punch to make viewers feel uncomfortable, and that can (and perhaps should) be modulated. I've definitely felt the same.
I love the Alanon meeting as well. Just re-watched his 7-minute monologue (it's on YouTube), which is so amazing.
Loved this. Thank you for the quote from Tony. This piece took me back to my first fine dining restaurant job, the BOH of a French Bakery where I was the cake baker, and the lakefront restaurant in Montana I owned, where I did it all, the only chef 17 hours a day, 7 days a week, each summer, my kids as my waitstaff and sous chef. I taught them about the heart and soul of restaurant life-- from working a room to creating specialty dishes folks would come back for, how to create a three egg omelet and why the vest coffee on the lake matters. Yet the best part are all the stories we have to tell about the life we lived and breathed in the back of the house.
Your Montana restaurant sounds like it's worth its own show (or a memoir?). I bet your kids have a lot of great memories (and stories). And "The Back of the House" is a great title.
Thanks for this post, Grant. I just watched episode 1 last night and found it repetitive and hard to get through, and, like a lot like some literary novels I struggle to get into, more about the expression of art for art's sake rather than storyline—and I guess when it comes to fiction, I love a good storyline. That said, I like your take because it reminds me of countless conversations we've had on the podcast about art, different styles, what we like and don't like, and why. I completely understand why you love this show, and now this season, and now I feel like (maybe) I'll finish Season 3 to see what you see. I like the idea of immersing myself into the experience of Carmy's pain, however uncomfortable, and like you, I worked in restaurants for almost a decade and I think a lot of people are addicted to the chaos, and as you rightly defined it, the aliveness, of it all. Thanks for this good analysis!
Thanks, Brooke. Season 3 is definitely the toughest of the three to watch, and probably the most uneven overall (and certainly the least "story-driven"), so it's definitely not for everyone (as its reception is evident of). That said, if it was focused on being story-driven and pleasing to viewers, I just don't think it could have served the larger truths it's aiming to represent, so I'm willing to accept its messiness and rough edges (and maybe even embrace its messiness and rough edges as its purpose), because in the end, the show's ambition, its need to subvert expectations to show its truth, is what resonates the most—not in the short term pleasure, but when I remember it all later. There's probably a good cooking metaphor in here about how the best dishes might be even better in memory than they were in the moment. I look forward to hearing more of your thoughts when you've watched more!
After just watching Season 3, I'm grateful to you for opening my mind and heart. Hard to watch sometimes. Ahhh...yes, I see now, thank you!
Thanks so much, Gaye. It was definitely hard to watch for me at times. I think sometimes we use "hard to watch" as a critique, but it can also be a good thing because "hard to watch" (or "hard to read") can be what's necessary for the artist to realize their vision (and lead us to new places). I understand the show isn't for everyone, and that's fine, of course. But I hope it continues to be hard to watch when necessary. That's not an easy thing to do on commercial TV.
Such a beautiful piece you wrote about an extraordinary show showing art created from the tragedy of alcoholism. I spent so much of my life living that way and probably still do more than I want to admit. I'm finding "The Bear" storytelling at its finest!
Thank you so much, Lisa, There are many of us who "probably still do more" than we want to admit. Here's to telling the story with creative approaches.
I so agree with this. I was like, why am I one of the few people who likes season 3? Between being an adult child of an alcoholic who has struggled with workaholism, and a writer obsessed with process, it makes perfect sense! Excellent analysis, Grant.
Thanks so much for your comment. Yeah, I feel like the show is being judged with the wrong standards--not the standards it's trying to achieve. I'm glad you enjoyed Season 3 as much as I did.
I love this. Thanks for alerting me to this show. Will check it out. Although, Elizabeth Gilbert may disagree that only “pain can drive our art” which I don’t think you are implying. I think she puts it differently in “Big Magic” asserting that many creatives are taught to put their faith in the struggle. I have to reread that chapter on “Pain” but your post made me think of that. :)
Thanks so much, Britta. Yeah, I intentionally put the "can" in the sentence about pain. Because pain sometimes also "can't" drive your art. Or it certainly doesn't have to be a driver or the main driver, etc.
No matter what, though, making something is a struggle, and we have to live in a degree of discomfort because a creation is always some sort of disruption by definition. Let me know what you think of The Bear if you watch it.
Saving this post to return to! In preparation for season 3 we’re rewatching season 2, and I keep thinking of the tenderness and quiet (and loneliness) of the Marcus-in-Copenhagen episode, and the way he gets better as he practices. It’s a beautiful contrast to most of the episodes, especially the bravura, over the top Christmas episode.
Loved the Copenhagen episode. And the way the show pauses for episodes like that. But I liked the Christmas episode as well because it was a different kind of pause (or immersion, rather).
I rewatched the last episode of season 2 halfway through season 3. Then just started re-watching from season 1. The show really requires rewatching because I was surprised what I found that I didn’t see the first time around.
Yes to all this. Especially "...we fix some things, and some things get broken in the fixing, and sometimes we don’t even know what to fix or how to fix it." Great post. Now I want to watch The Bear.
Thanks, Barbara! And ... yes, I hope you watch The Bear. It's great in many ways beyond my post. And it takes narrative risks that I didn't think possible on a mainstream show. If you watch it, let me know what you think.
"we fix some things, and some things get broken in the fixing"
Will do!