The Top 10 ‘The Bear’ Episodes, Ranked

“Ceres” introduces one of “The Bear’s” best guest stars: Jon Bernthal as Mikey Berzatto, Carmy and Natalie’s (Abby Elliott) older brother who dies by suicide shortly before the series begins. Instead of grabbing for easy pathos by flashing back to Mikey’s life from the beginning, Season 1 waits until its sixth episode to earn that right. The extent of Mikey’s charisma has been made clear long before we meet him from the way The Beef staff hazes Carmy, who they aren’t sure will measure up to his brother, and by Carmy and Natalie’s admissions of how easy it became to enable Mikey’s whims during the throes of his drug addiction. By the time Bernthal shows up, he fills the shoes well.

In flashback, Mikey and Richie (Moss-Bachrach) raucously tell Carmy and Natalie about a crazy night on the town. The story doesn’t land as well when we flip into the present and watch Richie tell it to his dinner date, who’s too put off by the idea of a grown man partying until 7 a.m. to want to hear the voicemail he recorded with Bill Murray. As Richie walks away from the date, dejected, the mark Mikey left on people’s lives is understood more acutely: He made people feel heard.

Back at The Beef, Sydney (Edebiri) finally begins to earn the respect of the rest of the staff. When Richie tries and fails to keep the gangsters on the street corner in line after the restaurant’s window gets shot out, Sydney is the one to calm things down. Tina (Liza Colón-Zayas), originally Sydney’s biggest critic, essentially tells Richie he needs to step off, because things are changing for the better. Feeling replaced, Richie does what he swore he’d never do, and secretly calls the cops on the gangsters, unable to let Sydney’s win be the end of the story. It’s a real low point that exposes Richie’s aimlessness in life, which nicely sets up the purpose he finds later on in our No. 1 episode.

The Season 2 finale of “The Bear” is named after the show itself for good reason. For two seasons, Sydney, Natalie, Richie and others have been trying to convince Carmy that it isn’t necessary to torture himself and everyone around him in pursuit of excellence. To be fair to him, he has no evidence that that’s true: the highest heights of his career have always been served with a generous helping of misery. But when he and his staff finally open their new restaurant to friends and family, the fact that he accidentally gets locked into the walk-in fridge isn’t even the biggest tragedy of the night: It’s that the opening more or less goes fine without him. There are obvious hiccups, but the soft launch is the smoothest, most functional version of this kitchen there’s ever been, a painful reminder that for all his wisdom about food and fine dining, he’s seriously lacking when it comes to leading the people who look up to him (especially given that the fridge incident would have been easily avoided if he’d just listened to Sydney, who spends all of Season 2 begging him to get it repaired).

Now, it wouldn’t be “The Bear” if Carmy processed these lessons with levelheadedness. Tina ends up having to babysit, sitting outside of the fridge and listening to Carmy monologue about how he doesn’t need any joy in his life as long as he remains excellent at his craft. But she has to step away for a moment as he starts to say that the romantic relationship he’s been building with Claire (Molly Gordon) is a waste of time — just as Claire comes to the kitchen to say hello, hearing every word. Richie loses it, unable to understand why Carmy won’t let a good thing happen to him, leading to their biggest fight yet, with Carmy calling Richie a “leech” who’s obsessed with the Berzatto family — all being screamed through the fridge door. The episode accomplishes a lot, proving that there’s reason to be optimistic about the restaurant’s success while also finally levying consequences for Carmy’s actions in a way that’s legible to him. It’s time for him to get his shit together.

After a nightmare sequence in which Carmy is the host of a cooking show and humiliated in front of a studio audience, the Season 1 finale finds him speaking at an Al-Anon meeting. In a seven-minute monologue, White delivers one of his strongest performances on “The Bear,” a deconstruction of his turbulent relationship with Mikey, who didn’t let Carmy work at the restaurant, which he says ignited his drive to be a chef. Later in the episode, Carmy starts a kitchen fire and freezes up, unable to put it out. Richie, consoling him, hands him a letter Mikey left for him, which says, “I love you dude. Let it rip,” along with a recipe for spaghetti, advising Carmy to use the smaller cans of tomatoes because they “taste better.” So, Carmy starts cooking, and discovers when making the sauce that there are bags of cash hidden in the canned tomatoes. It’s a miracle. Rather, it’s Mikey. With a small, unexpected fortune, Carmy and Sydney put a sign on the restaurant door: “The Beef is closed… The Bear is coming.”

“Braciole” delivers some closure to Carmy, who sees Mikey in a vision while serving spaghetti, family style, to their chosen family at The Beef. And the episode ends Season 1 with a sweet aftertaste after the mayhem of its penultimate episode, setting the stakes for a second season that will bring the series to its greatest heights.

“The Bear” was never meant to be a hit. Take it from Moss-Bachrach, who recently told Variety he remembers the red carpet premiere for Season 1 taking place “in, like, the parking lot” — not the rollout given to a project expected to be a knockout among critics, viewers and awards bodies alike.

But on the strength of its pilot, it became one. Opening as Carmy wakes from a nightmarish daydream where he tentatively approaches a literal bear, “System” deftly sets up two worlds: The Beef as it stood when Mikey ran it until his suicide, and the new version of it that Carmy is trying to build. Many half-hour series take multiple episodes to fully introduce their main characters, or they try and fail to accomplish that all at once. But “The Bear” managed in its first episode to give depth and specificity to each of the major players who anchor the show: establishing Marcus’ (Lionel Boyce) self-doubt and curiosity; Tina’s stubbornness and pride in her work; Natalie’s moral clarity and denial; Richie’s sympathetic but overbearing need to be heard; Sydney’s creativity and impatience; Carmy’s wisdom and rage as he seeks the trust and respect of his new staff, the engine on which Season 1 runs.

“System” is also one of “The Bear’s” funniest episodes, with Carmy inviting nerds from all over the Midwest to play an arcade game at the restaurant to make extra cash — a rowdy crowd that Richie ends up sedating with a gun shot into the sky. Both The Beef and “The Bear” itself are, as Richie says later in the season, “a delicate fucking ecosystem,” and “System” prepares for that perfectly.

Tina has been one of the best parts of “The Bear” since the first time she called Carmy “Jeff” instead of “chef” in the pilot, so it’s unsurprising that her backstory episode became not only Season 3’s best, but one of the best of the show overall. Throughout “The Bear,” we’ve gotten glimpses of vulnerability from Tina; though she leads with a tough shell, she has a real need for purpose and approval that has previously come through in smaller moments, like each time Carmy or Sydney tries her food. But it’s “Napkins,” which tells the story of how she ended up at The Beef, that sees Tina at her tenderest. The episode follows her through several grueling weeks of job hunting after being laid off from an office position she’d held for 15 years. “The Bear” has become famous for creating a palpable sense of anxiety with frenetic cinematography and heightened performances, but “Napkins” achieves that mood with slowness instead; each time Tina gets back on the bus after another rejected application, the weight of her impending rent increase and the needs of her family become more crushing. Even the reassurance of her warm, supportive husband (played by Colón-Zayas’ real husband, David Zayas) is a reminder that their lives are about an inch from falling apart. And then comes The Beef.

Tina wanders into the sandwich shop for a spontaneous coffee when the bus is delayed after a canceled job interview; Richie gives her the drink plus a sandwich for free to punish a customer who didn’t pick theirs up in time. It’s a small kindness that brings her to absolute tears, freaking out Richie and Fak (Matty Matheson) and driving Mikey to try calming her down before other customers notice. As the two trade woes, all three seasons of Tina’s growth come into focus. Her working class struggles give her some of her edge, but she’s guided by the desire to challenge herself and to be among people who challenge her. In a few short minutes, Mikey offers that — making it clearer why so many people have been magnetized toward him and The Beef amidst all the dysfunction. Confidently helmed by debut director Edebiri, “Napkins” deepens our connection to Tina in a way that makes “The Bear,” as a whole, better.

What do you do with an SAG Award-winning ensemble cast and a roster of comedy icons? Make an hour-long flashback episode centered on one Christmas Eve dinner. Every A-list guest star gets an exciting entrance as the Berzatto extended family is filled out with Jamie Lee Curtis, Bob Odenkirk, Sarah Paulson, John Mulaney and Gillian Jacobs. Richie’s then-wife Tiffany (Jacobs) is pregnant, Carmy is back from Copenhagen and Claire (Molly Gordon) is rather forcibly mentioned, reverse engineered into the narrative as a longtime love interest. As Donna Berzatto, Curtis puts a face to Carmy’s mommy issues, spiraling into wine-soaked hysterics as she prepares the Feast of the Seven Fishes. Uncle Lee (Odenkirk) gets into a shouting match with Mikey, taunting him to throw a fork at him until he actually does. The tension is palpable, creating the worst holiday dinner ever that culminates with Donna driving a car into the house.

For sure the most thrilling episode of “The Bear,” “Fishes” is something of a flex — here’s how this scrappy FX series got Hollywood’s hottest actors in one room, and managed to keep most of it a secret. But for all its theatrics and heart-racing, holy-shit moments, “Fishes” also marks the beginning of a dangerous trend. Having a handful of starry cameos enriches the sprawling world of “The Bear,” but at a certain point it reads less as a virtue than a gimmick. (We’re looking at you, John Cena.)

“Dogs” is “The Bear’s” greatest weapon against those who say the series isn’t a comedy. Carmy and Richie head up to the suburbs to cater a children’s birthday party, and things go awry when Richie accidentally spikes the punch with Xanax, causing the kids to pass out in the backyard. Carmy is mortified that they just drugged a bunch of pre-teens, but Jimmy (Oliver Platt) is relieved: “Actually, I’m kind of into it. Keep up the good work.” There are other laugh-out-loud moments, too, like the darkly hysterical interaction between Carmy and a family friend who asks innocently, “Carmen? I thought you killed yourself.” Carmy responds dryly, “No, sir, that was my brother.”

Back at The Beef, Marcus hones his passion for baking and strives toward perfecting a donut. Tina butts heads with Sydney, who holds the unfortunate position of managing an older, more experienced cook (and her ego). When Tina messes up her potato dish, she’s made even more upset by the fact that Sydney prepared a back-up. But in the end, Tina impresses Sydney with her finished product, surprised to receive positive feedback and silently thankful that she pushed her to improve.

An early showcase of just how high “The Bear” could crank up the chaos, “Review” contains an 18-minute kitchen sequence — shot in one take, and directed by Storer — that should be chased with an hour of quiet meditation. Set to Wilco’s “Spiders (Kidsmoke),” which simmers on low until it catches fire, the scene follows Carmy & Co. 20 minutes before opening. After Sydney accidentally leaves the pre-order option open, hundreds of orders pour in, causing Carmy to scream, “Fire everything right fucking now!” Everything is going wrong, and everyone’s worst instincts are on full display: Richie and Sydney bicker and belittle each other, Marcus is working on a donut for some reason and Carmy summons a tyrannical rage. Tension bubbles over into turmoil as Carmy loses control of his kitchen and staff. Marcus quits; Sydney accidentally stabs Richie in the ass with a kitchen knife; Sydney quits; Carmy punches the printer, overflowing with order tickets. The blood-pumping climax of the first season of “The Bear,” “Review” forces you inside the dysfunctional kitchen of The Beef and doesn’t let you leave — and yes, Storer won a directing Emmy for this episode. During the first season run, its dizzying disarray provided an example of what “The Bear” does best. That is, until Season 2 revealed a new, even more captivating side of the series.

If “Review” is “The Bear’s” most extreme version of itself, “Honeydew” proves that the show is also capable of the exact opposite tone. The fourth episode of Season 2 centers Marcus who, as the sole mind and body behind desserts at the restaurant, Carmy sends to Copenhagen to train with his old friend Luca (Will Poulter). It’s revealed as Marcus leaves Chicago that he’s been caring for his dying mother, who is no longer able to speak, and the tenderness of the moment he spends at her bedside gives context to Marcus’ career: Baking is about patience, and Marcus has lots of it. Nonverbal communication takes the foreground in “Honeydew.” Marcus and Luca share as few words as possible as they cook and bake shoulder-to-shoulder, and much of the episode follows his silent solo adventures in Denmark. In the quiet, little things take on bigger meaning; the water Marcus puts out for a cat he never sees is an act of service like the pastries he makes for customers he never meets. At one point, Marcus discovers a drunk, injured biker who doesn’t speak English and is trapped under a fallen wire fence, and hesitates to involve himself, fearing that someone else will assume the tall Black foreigner is responsible. Instead, he helps the man up, they share a wordless hug, and they go their separate ways, making this the one episode of “The Bear” where disaster never strikes. He leaves the encounter, and the episode, having learned something about the world. There’s a sign in Luca’s kitchen that reads “Every second counts,” a mantra that begins to recur throughout the show, but in “Honeydew,” it’s understood that you can maximize your time without the anguish and animosity Marcus will soon return to in Chicago. Led by Ramy Youssef, the first person to direct an episode of “The Bear” besides showrunners Storer and Joanna Calo, “Honeydew” is a completely new take on “The Bear” without feeling like we’ve entered a different world entirely.

Additionally, in a show that may have too many guest stars, Poulter is one of the best. Luca and Carmy worked together under Chef Terry (Olivia Colman), and though their history isn’t revealed until later in the season, the relief brought on by Luca’s presence suggests that this quiet, confident life is one Carmy could have lived were it not for the trauma brought on by his family and career. Luca is excellent at what he does, but lacks the desperation for external validation that stunts Carmy emotionally, and the subtlety of Poulter’s performance sells it — another way is possible. To put it simply, “The Bear” can get bleak, but “Honeydew” is aspirational.

For the most part, “The Bear” didn’t try to make Richie a likable guy. In Season 1, he was abrasive, stubborn and obnoxious — so much so that when Sydney accidentally stabs him in the seventh episode of the series, it feels deserved. That the series waited until its 15th episode to redeem Richie, to give him purpose, so to speak, was a risk that paid off tremendously. “Forks,” far and away the greatest episode of “The Bear,” places Richie in the kitchen of Ever, said to be the best restaurant in the world, where he’ll “stage” for a week and learn the ins and outs of high-end hospitality. Played brilliantly by Moss-Bachrach, Richie is initially skeptical of the kitchen staff’s enthusiasm for service, but he shines when he overhears a group of visiting diners lamenting that they missed out on Chicago deep dish. Richie picks up a pie from Pequod’s and, after it’s reconfigured and elevated by the chef de cuisine, delivers it with a newfound sense of pride and purpose.

Heading home, Richie’s beaming, singing along to Taylor Swift in a needle drop that will make you cry. But despite his growth, he can’t help self-sabotaging during a phone call with Carmy, blaming him for sending him to Ever to “humiliate” him. The next morning, Richie walks in on Chef Terry, played by Colman in what remains “The Bear’s” most effective guest casting, alone peeling mushrooms. They share a small moment of connection, with Chef Terry telling Richie that Carmy believes in him. She’s pulled away, and Richie’s left staring at the sign that hangs above her kitchen, a mantra that, as we’ve seen, has transcended the walls of her kitchen: “Every second counts.”