The Bear Season 3 Review: An Intimate and Personal Third Course

The Bear Season 3 takes a different direction tonally and structurally. Sometimes, this big, creative swing for the fences sings. Other times, it stumbles. As a whole, though, this third season isn’t quite as strong as its predecessors. 

The Bear Season 3

Visually, Season 3 is breathtaking. There’s an avant-garde approach to this visual storytelling. The plated foods, especially in the first few episodes, are (inexplicably) aesthetically pleasing. 

Additionally, the episodic narrative takes a more intimate, personal, and introspective approach. Season 3 thrives on tight close-ups and the moments between the lines. It feels like we’re interrupting these slice-of-life scenes, intruding on private conversations. 

These moments are crucial for us as viewers. While The Bear Season 3 doesn’t have an obvious plot progression, it has more emotional movement, which allows us to dive deeper into these characters. In episodes like “Ice Chips,” having these private character beats is a boon.

The structural shakeup and quieter, more intimate approach work here. Without it, we wouldn’t get another tour de force performance from Jamie Lee Curtis or Abby Elliott’s vulnerable work. “Ice Chips” thrives on this format and is easily one of the season’s strongest episodes. 

Directing

Ayo Edebiri makes her directorial debut this season. She’s at the helm of the stellar “Napkins,” Tina’s origin story. Edebiri has a natural gift for direction, giving the masterful Liza Colón-Zayas the space to play. Both women make this episode soar. 

Series creator Christopher Storer directs most of the season, which is par for the course. Storer always knocks it out of the park and finds new ways to elevate the series visually (as mentioned earlier). The season loses some of the edge we’ve seen in previous installments, though, but it also takes on a new kind of intensity. 

Loneliness, Communication, and Legacy

The Bear Season 3 delves into three prevailing themes: loneliness, communication, and legacy. In particular, Carmy’s lack of communication drives away those around him. He fails to communicate his feelings with Claire, Sydney, and Richie. He avoids talking to his mother, Donna. Carmy is perpetually stuck in his trauma responses, refusing to work through that trauma. 

Loneliness comes into play for everyone. It also goes hand-in-hand with this “haunting” gag with the Faks. Sure, the haunting is comedic from the Faks’ side of things, but many of these characters are haunted by something. Claire haunts Carmy. Joel McHale’s mean chef haunts Carmy. Carmy haunts Syd. 

That loneliness and isolation are pervasive in the cutthroat restaurant world as everyone claws their way to the top. Additionally, Season 3 feels like a quiet meditation on legacy. What will you leave behind? Better yet, can you get what you want and be happy? 

Carmy is always searching for his white whale, even when he finally attains some form of success. It’s never enough. He craves perfection. Unfortunately, his quest for perfectionism drives a wedge between those closest to him, and he spends The Bear Season 3 widening that rift. 

The season also touches on generational trauma, from Sugar admitting she’s terrified of passing her baggage on to her daughter (which she inherited from Donna) to Carmy abusing his staff after getting abused by the mean chef. Hurt people hurt people, as they say, and Carmy is the perfect example of that. 

Non-negotiables

Where Season 3 falters is in the length of some of its scenes. Admittedly, they occasionally feel too long. They drag on. Now, sometimes, the lengthy scenes work. Other times, like all the extended focus on the Faks, they feel gratuitous. Occasionally, the editing feels disjointed, lending itself to a less focused appearance. 

The seeming lack of focus doesn’t necessarily make it an unenjoyable season. Despite its flaws, Season 3’s emotional arcs are entertaining, particularly Carmy, Syd, and Sugar. That said, we don’t get nearly enough screen time with Syd, Marcus, Ebra, and Tina. Here’s hoping this is remedied in Season 4. 

Performance-wise, besides brilliant turns from Jamie Lee Curtis, Liza Colón-Zayas, and Abby Elliott, Jeremy Allen White, Lionel Boyce, and Ayo Edebiri also knock it out of the acting park. Edebiri beautifully conveys Syd’s panic attack in the Season 3 finale, which parallels Carmy’s panic attack in the walk-in freezer in the Season 2 finale. 

Slow Down 

The Bear Season 3 might seem hollow and “boring” at face value. While it’s far from perfect, hats off to the creative team for trying something different. Additionally, it’s an intriguing changeup from the incessantly tense, high-octane fare we’re used to.

That’s not to say Season 3 doesn’t have its fair share of intensity, though. “Doors” sometimes plays like a horror movie while keeping us on the edge of our seats. However, this season is an equal mix of tension, drama, and comedy. As for the comedy, some jokes land; others fall flat (especially when they’re Fak-centric). 

Overall, Season 3 slows down, integrating slice-of-life elements and more inward soul-searching. There are pops of hopefulness with the show’s standard melancholic flair. It asks us to examine how we navigate an all-consuming career while finding time to live. Can both coexist? 

Despite the lack of payoff in certain regards, especially Carmy’s relationships, the more lighthearted elements, when used sparingly/correctly, are a breath of fresh air. Season 3 finds ways to profoundly connect with us, bringing relatable characters to life in a high-stakes setting. 

It doesn’t always fire on all cylinders, but when it rips, it rips. 

Stray Observations:

• There’s one Richie line in “Doors” that killed me. I legitimately guffawed. “Keep my man out of your f*cking mouth. You’re not fully integrated. Don’t talk to me until you’re integrated, jag off!” Ebon Moss-Bachrach makes anything hilarious. (Also, this is 100 percent The Bear‘s nod to that infamous Will Smith/Chris Rock moment.) 
• Season 3 is this show’s deep dive into indie film territory, and it looks particularly “artsy” this time around. 
• This series hits the nail on the head regarding restaurant life. It’s painfully accurate for someone like me who spent six years in a fast-paced, always-packed restaurant. The only difference? We never said we were “in the shits” when it was busy and things were going wrong. We were always “in the weeds.”
• Listen, Josh Hartnett, with painted nails, has so much power. He’s a force of nature. 
• We didn’t get nearly enough Ebra or Marcus. I want my Ebra and Marcus. 
• John Cena’s cameo is more distracting than anything. It feels like watching Peacemaker interacting with the Faks. 
• I love Marcus’s grief storyline. I just wish we had more of it. 

What did you think of The Bear Season 3? Share your thoughts in the comments below!

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The Bear Season 3 is now streaming on Hulu. 

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