This story contains spoilers for season three of The Bear.
Contrary to the chaos and noise that permeates The Bear, there’s one chef in the titular restaurant who thrives in the quiet. For pastry chef Marcus (played with a gentle hand by Lionel Boyce), it’s as if he’s operating in his own world. That’s evident as far back as the first season’s one-take bonanza, “Review”—while Carmy (Jeremy Allen White) berates his co-workers at 100 decibels, the mild-mannered Marcus is tinkering away with his latest cake in the back corner. The two could not be more different.
When Marcus’ mother passes away after suffering from a long-term illness at the end of season two, the fear is wondering how he will cope. The grieving blueprint left by Carmy is troublesome: he’s stuck in a never-ending spiral of misplaced rage and debilitating loss. Marcus is no less affected by his mother’s death, but he doesn’t deal in emotions that enormous. Instead, he quietly absorbs her absence, throwing himself back into work and coming home to the comforting hum of her ventilator. Marcus is a porous sponge, using his experiences in Chicago and Copenhagen as fuel for experimentation. His grief is another one of those nascent sources of inspiration. Marcus’ arc is one of the delicate but profound highlights of The Bear’s third season, and here, Lionel Boyce talks us through his character’s slow process of healing.
GQ: In the first episode, we see everyone push back against Carmy’s non-negotiables, but Marcus is the only one who doesn’t question them. Why do you think that is?
Lionel Boyce: He's been following the ghosts of Carmy’s footsteps, so he's understanding that this is a path to greatness. And he sees the level that Carmy’s at. He respects it. [He went] to Copenhagen. So I think he's, like, yeah of course, this is how I continue to get better. This is how I get to the place where Carmy’s at, so it's a no-brainer. It's not crazy. And even in the pilot, he was the first one on board with Carmy’s way of thinking.
One of the non-negotiables was about passion and creativity and collaboration. Carmy hasn’t necessarily absorbed those values himself but I feel like the people who have actually embodied them are Marcus and Tina. You see that in the scene where they workshop a dish together.
I think that ties into the scope of legacy as well. This restaurant is Carmy, but it's also Carmy and Sydney. She nurtured Marcus and Tina so it's like the collaboration [came from her]. She's more collaborative than Carmy, so I think that's more of the Sydney residue of the legacy. I think that scene is a representation of when the restaurant is working [at its] best, and if you're leaving behind the good, this is what it could be.
Sydney turned down Marcus at the end of season two. How would you define their relationship this season?
I think they're friends. They started as friends and then it's like things get in close proximity. I think that's something that happens with people and that's just a human thing where you're like, I have chemistry with this person. Are we friends? Are we not friends? It's a weird thing, but they found a way to navigate through it. [With] the death of his mother, his mind shifted over [there]. It's less about trying to deal with [the rejection], he needs support from a friend and she's a friend who has dealt with the loss of a parent as well. So she has a personal experience and a way to connect with him through that way. And I think this season is cool because they acknowledge it and wrap it up. Marcus makes it a point to apologize.
Marcus has a conversation with Carmy in the beginning of the season where he says that he thinks he was supposed to be in the kitchen when his mother died. Was that his way of rationalizing why he wasn’t there for her or do you think that’s something he genuinely believes?
I think that’s something he didn't realise until afterwards. To me, I interpret that as he has a found family that he feels love and camaraderie with, so he feels like he's not alone. I have genuine people I connect [with] and feel like family. He's probably assumed that in [his mother’s] mind when she goes, he'll just be alone, so this is the best-case scenario. I think it's a little bit of both to be [honest]. He rationalized it because he has nothing to lean on, but also there is some part to it where Carmy, Syd, Tina, Richie, Ebra, and everybody in that kitchen is now his found family.
There’s another conversation they have where Carmy tries to give Marcus advice on how to deal with his grief, and Marcus points out that he’s not even following it. Do you think he’s seen how Carmy has processed his grief for Mikey and is aware that he doesn’t want to repeat that?
For sure. I think that's the cool thing, this show is showing just how differently people process grief, and [Marcus has] definitely seen the way Carmy came into the kitchen and avoided it all. We all have friends who've given us advice, but they’ve never followed their own advice. So I think it's a little bit of that.
Marcus spends a lot of the season trying to avoid what he’s feeling, but in the end, it’s become his creative outlet and inspiration. There’s that great scene where he finds the white violet that he wants to create a dish around.
His journey of grief is just, like, how do you exist with it? That's what art is. It's just a big feeling on the inside, and how do I get this out into the world? I've experienced this thing and I just need to get it out of me. And so that's kind of what it is. What Carmy and Syd have done is unlock the idea of creativity to him, where he probably didn't see himself as a creative before Carmy came into the kitchen. And he's just like, “Oh, I am an artist. This is my outlet.” That's just how creativity works. There's no rhyme or reason. He’s just driving and sees something that sparks [something]. It feels much more practical than this big, grand gesture.
Can you talk about the process filming the eulogy scene in episode three?
That episode was directed by our AD Duccio Fabbri. We were in a church somewhere in Chicago, Evanston or something, and the nerves naturally come up just being in that room. [Duccio] gave really good notes where he was just like, “Let it feel free.” He gave a couple of suggestions, like, let's try it this way, this way, this way. So we played with it a few times. I think after the first take, he was like, “I think we got it, but let's just do a couple more just [to] have the freedom.” He was very particular with everything where he knew exactly how he wanted to construct that entire episode. He's kind of a maverick, thinking outside of the box. The suggestions he gave, [I had] never thought of framing it like that.
What were those suggestions?
One of them was like, Try it as if you were a child. That was a cool way of looking at it. And then [there were] other ones where he's just like, “Let's try one a little bit faster, a little bit slower, you want to just mess with the rhythm.” It's very musical.
The day you were filming the funeral was photographed a lot. How was it to film the show now that so many more eyes are on you?
People were popping up at different sets, but I do remember that, I was like, it sucks because that was a big cliffhanger from season two. But also it was funny because you’re looking at people's theories—even I had friends who were like, “I know what happened: Ebra died.” Like, what? People were like, [Marcus’ mom passing] is a possibility but it might be something more. The conspiracy is much more interesting, if you can [believe] a farcical idea [rather] than the one that is probably logical.