Photo: Chuck Hodes/FX
When The Bear first premiered last summer, it was the little show that could. It had a small amount of critical buzz thanks to sites like this one, but there wasnāt a ton of hype in the run-up to its premiere. That all changed in the weeks and months that followed the showās release, as word of mouth about the show grew exponentially and The Bear became pretty much the only topic of conversation at every BBQ, meeting, and playground meetup.
That was good news for The Bear, which FX didnāt actually renew for a second season until the first one finished airing, but it also had to be a little terrifying for its creators. Expectations and hype can feel a bit like a guillotineās looming blade, with modern audiences itching for some slight misstep ā an episode thatās just okay, even ā to declare that something they once loved has lost its luster. (Just ask Ted Lasso.) How, as a creator, do you capture lighting in a bottle more than once? And can you keep something fresh and new on a second go-around?
The Bearās second-season premiere certainly makes it seem possible. Picking up seemingly days after the first seasonās end, āBeefā finds the Original Berf Beef crew breaking down the old restaurant in an effort to move toward Carmyās new high-end vision. As Bruce Hornsbyās āThe Show Goes Onā plays, the sign comes off the restaurantās exterior as signed pics of Harold Ramis, Anthony Bourdain, and secret season-one guest Paul RuddĀ are removed from the interior. Thereās quibbling over how much the whole remodel is going to cost ā $80k? $95k? $108k, with the drywall quote from Richieās brother-in-law? ā and itās clear that, even with Sugarās help as a potential project manager, the group is in deep shit. They might have the $300,000 Mikey squirreled away from Uncle Jimmy, but cutting through Chicagoās red tape and permits will require a deft hand and a lot of patience, and hiring someone other than Fak to tackle issues like gas-line repairs wonāt come cheap. Add to that some weird IRS stipulation Sugar finds that says ādebts have to be complete before any new business is started,ā and the gangās financial situation is looking tenuous at best.
While the group is figuring all this out, Richie is down in the basement moping. Heās been trying to sort out his lifeās purpose, explaining to Carmy that heās reading a book about a guy who gets dropped by his longtime friends because all he really likes to do is watch trains. The protagonistās friends ā an athlete, a genius, someone whoās ānasty on the keys,ā and someone who has ācharisma like a motherfuckerā ā drop him because he has no purpose. Richie doesnāt know what comes after, because he hasnāt read that far, but he tells Carmy that he can relate. Heās 45 and has been at the Beef for a long time, but how does that translate to Carmyās new vision ā and should it? āIām afraid one day Iām going to wake up and you guys are just going to drop this ass,ā he tells Carmy, who kindly responds, āRichie, Iām not going to drop this ass.ā Thereās some discussion after about how working at the Beef isnāt actually fun for either of them, to which Richie responds, āCousin, what the fuck is fun for you?ā A good question, Richie!
Speaking of fun, Sydney and Tina are talking pots and pans, with Tina requesting ā rightfully ā new pans for their fancy new establishment. Itās hard to make fine-dining fare when every pan looks like a greasy nightmare (shout-out to the props department for creating all that yuck), but Sydney extols the virtues of Bar Keepers Friend, which every restaurant loves and every person should really own because itās amazing. Later we learn that the miracle dust did actually get at least some of the pans clean, so huzzah!
Somehow amid all of this financial ruin, the group decides to bring in Oliver Plattās sketchy Uncle Jimmy, whom they ask to back their new venture. They come clean about Mikeyās money cans, which Jimmy doesnāt seem too broken up about, and ask him for an additional $500,000. He doesnāt seem all that into the idea until Carmy spontaneously offers to pay him off completely in 18 months, saying that if heās not whole by then, theyāll close the restaurant and give him both the building and the lot, which he can sell or use as he pleases. Thereās some debate as to how much heād actually get if he sold the whole thing, but given that condos in the area of the real Mr. Beef building go for between $300,000ā$450,000, letās assume it would be substantial. He bites, and the Beef gang is now even more entrenched with the semi-sketchy Cicero. (Couldnāt they have asked a bank, you ask? What about a notable and legitimate Chicago restaurant group, like Boka, 16 On Center, or One Off Hospitality? Well, sure, but what fun would that be? This is a TV show, after all.)
Carmy, Sugar, and Sydney estimate that itāll take at least eight months for the restaurant to make a profit, meaning the agreement Carmy made is basically unwinnable. Theyāll have to be packed from the get-go, and Sydney thinks theyāll need to get a Michelin star as well, which sheās now tasked with making happen.
After a brief stint at home basically twiddling their thumbs and some pump-up music courtesy of Refusedās āNew Noise,ā the three reconvene at the restaurant to figure out how theyāre going to actually get the Bear up and running. Thereās a vision board, timeline, and plan of attack, and while theyāre all pretty sure that everything theyāre planning on doing is a terrible idea, theyāre doing it all the same. Itās that kind of manic confidence and blind ambition that made us all fall for The Bear in the first place, so, to quote Mikey Berzatto, letās let it rip.
ā¢ The episode opens on Marcus rubbing lotion on someoneās hands as they languish in the hospital. Weāre left to wonder who it is (His mom? His grandma?) and whatās the gravity of the situation (is she on life support, or just sleeping very deeply while also attached to monitors?), but given the slightly tense and supportive back-and-forth he and Sydney have later on the episode, Iām sure weāll find out more.
ā¢ Did Fak always have a cool, messy rattail braid? Because he sure does now and congrats to him for that, because itās a great character detail.
ā¢ Does anyone know what book Richie is reading? Google is letting me down.
ā¢ Wilco sync count this episode: at least one cut, āHandshake Drugs,ā off 2002ās Yankee Hotel Foxtrot.
ā¢ Iām not even going to go into what āJewish Lightningā is, but suffice it to say that we learned a bit about Mikeyās nihilism this week, as well as his apparent love for the Boston Red Sox.
ā¢ The Beefās crawl space has an alarm on it for some reason (foreshadowing?), which Richie says makes him think that Mikey was like Kevin McCallister. Also, the alarm password is āgofastboatsmojito,ā for some reason.
ā¢ KBL stands for Uncle Jimmyās last name (Kylinowski), Berzatto, and Lane, for āUncle Lee Lane,ā which is the name of a new character that Carmy doesnāt seem into. Could that be who Bob Odenkirk is playing later this season? Heās also not Carmyās actual uncle, but as Sugar points out, Richie isnāt his actual cousin either, so letās let that slide.
ā¢ Sydney asks Tina to train to be her sous-chef, which Tina seems absolutely ecstatic about. Itās very sweet, and Liza ColĆ³n-Zayas is a joy to watch. Hopefully she gets a little more shine this season.
ā¢ Speaking of this season, hello again! My name is Marah Eakin and I recapped The Bear season one. Iām thrilled to be back for a second season and, like you, I canāt wait to see how these crazy, greasy kids get out of all their food-based and financial scrapes. Hit me up in the comments or on Twitter where Iām at @marahe, and Iāll do my best to respond.