The Bear

The Bear gets the balance between atmosphere and story, sour and sweet, just right. At a time when big budget TV, with things such as House of the Dragon or The Rings of Power, has decided that more is more, The Bear is a real palate cleanser. It’s a masterpiece in reduction - and the sauce has bite.

Infused with pain and empathy by White’s taut but tender performance. It is equally easy to root for his staff. ... Watching how the sausage gets made may not be pretty but in The Bear, it is impossible to look away.

The Bear is horrifically stressful; it’s also thrilling, ambitious, funny, devastating. ... The show ends with a revelation that feels almost uncannily like magic. I didn’t begrudge it, because it seems to set up abundant questions and opportunities for a second season, and series that are this thoughtful—this sly and tender and artful—are rare enough to be relished.

This is a show created by people who recognize that our lives are a group project. No person is an island and we have to accept that in order to get anything done. Sometimes that process can feel like rough edges forever jabbing at your soft spots. When regular people — not a special ops unit or a group of superheroes — figure out a way to work toward a common goal? There’s nothing better. It gets me in the gut.

An extraordinary show, not so much for the story it tells as how it tells it; you will have to go far to find another show so invested in and adept at portraying ordinary human speech and behavior, and even then you might not find one.

Once you’re acclimated, The Bear becomes something of a marvel, a show with its own rhythm and with characters you generally want to be around, even as they’re losing it.

Shows like The Bear—with its fully formed tone, presentation, and performances—don’t come around often. Make sure you tune in: it’s a chef’s kiss.

Whatever beef I had with how The Bear made me feel, it was hard to let go of the fact that it had made me feel, and deeply. ... A show that instantly had a sense of place, had clear conflicts and character arcs, and did not seem to be following any particular Peak TV playbook.

[The restaurant, the Original Beef of Chicagoland] is in a state of complete chaos: filthy, undisciplined, and crushed by debt. All of this fuels Carmy’s mounting panic, which is matched by the series’ taut pacing, propelling us through each frenetic and poetic half-hour episode. ... The Bear is an ensemble production packed with prickly, vibrant performances.

It nails the mayhem and the din of flaring short tempers that makes what happens at restaurants nothing short of a continuous miracle: something as delicate and crafted as a plate of food manages to come out of all that pandemonium. ... What it also captures, however, is the beauty that lies underneath: the drive behind people so overwhelmed by their passion for the field they chose and who are so committed to the skill and the art it requires that they’re willing to submit themselves to that kind of environment. ... There’s also something emotionally elegant about The Bear.

Everyone on The Bear must always brace for the unexpected, and that is what makes this series so instantly compelling, tense, and beautiful all at once. These eight episodes may leave you breathless and a little dizzy. But when it’s over, prepare to say, “Thank you, chef.”

With a killer cast, strong writing, and an abundance of surprise guests there is no reason why "The Bear" shouldn’t be cooking a second season meal in the very near future.

"Bear" is nerve-wracking and a delight. The frenzied pace and the shouty, freewheeling dialogue create an intense, stressful atmosphere that reaches out from the screen and practically tenses your shoulders. But it's also about (mostly) likable people trying to do their best, and that striving energy is as addictive and satisfying as a really good sandwich.

A darkly funny, frenetic and intense gem that will make you very hungry and most likely will ring the bell of authenticity for anyone who has ever worked or is currently employed in the restaurant business.

The series does a good job of having us follow their story, get invested, and then have our hearts broken when things go wrong for them, all the while hoping that they will see success again.

“The Bear” would not be as gripping were it not for the side characters in the kitchen, who are vividly illustrated in by an ensemble that shows the different mentalities of those in the service industry.

The ensemble chemistry gels quickly on “The Bear,” as the frenzied atmosphere draws unedited thoughts and feelings out of the staffers. Once they start to recognize Carmy’s brilliance, and let go of his late brother’s disorganized ways, their banter and mutual support is even sweeter.

The Bear is more dark comedy than a laugh riot, but its anarchic style and family vibe make for a kinetic show that might have some surprises in store for its viewers.

From the performances to the directing, to the steady pacing of the episodes (eight in total), there’s a thoughtfulness to “The Bear” that keeps it from sinking into the pit of self-pity that keeps tempting everyone who walks through the kitchen door.

"The Bear" was created by Christopher Storer and has the winning menu item of people doing things well. Original Beef is a mess when Carmen gets there, but the cooking is lovely to watch once he gets things on track. What's even lovelier is the way Carmen's imposition of elevated standards changes the staff.

Despite its eight-episode first season falling frustratingly into the tropes of the volatile, violent kitchen and the Genius Chef tasked with keeping it all together, The Bear manages to elevate its product with some strong performances and a deep well of relatable anguish in its characters.

The season climaxes in well-earned, nearly unwatchable pandemonium, and then in emotional resolutions that are perhaps too tidy. I mostly bought into the intensity and delirium of the journey without always being sure if it was a trip I was enjoying.