The Bear Season 3's Heartbreaking High Point ‘Napkins,’ Broken Down by Liza Colón-Zayas

The Bear's “Bear Mom” on being directed by Ayo Edebiri and her cathartic scene with Jon Bernthal.
Liza ColónZayas in 'The Bear'

This story contains spoilers for “Napkins,” episode 6 of season 3 of The Bear.

The Bear's third season feels haunted. Within the squabbling Fak family, the term “haunting” denotes a kind of prankish comeuppance that can be unleashed at any given moment, instilling constant dread. But the feeling of hauntedness is all over the show in subtler ways, too. Carmy (Jeremy Allen White) is afflicted with debilitating flashes of his past, frequently reminded of his troubled family, his toxic former boss, and the residual grief of his brother Mikey’s (Jon Bernthal) passing. The titular restaurant suffers under Carmy’s self-destructive tendencies, and much of the season plays out in flashback, as if his inability to escape the past spreads like a pernicious rot through every chef inside.

None of those flashbacks are as potent as the sixth episode, ‘Napkins’, which revisits how Tina (Liza Colón-Zayas) landed her job at The Beef sandwich shop during Mikey’s tenure. After losing her admin job of 15 years at a confectionery business, Tina is forced back into the job hunt and discovers just how demoralizing it is. It’s a devastating episode, detailing how women who aren’t fresh-faced out of college are treated as disposable and invisible. Tina offers her resumé to various businesses, whose staff swiftly turn her away with condescending politeness. Just getting an interview seems impossible.

At her lowest point, she steps through the doors of The Beef, and meets Richie (Ebon Moss-Bachrach), who generously offers her a sandwich and coffee on the house, despite the chaos and deafening yells. (Evidently, the place was just as much of a mess in pre-Carmy times). Then she meets Mikey, who sits down and hears her out, and it’s as if she’s being seen for the very first time. Tina sees Mikey, too, who admits he lacks Carmy’s drive and feels like he’s been “skipped.” So when Tina needs a job, and Mikey needs a new line cook, it’s a no-brainer. Directed by Ayo Edebiri, “Napkins” is about those small acts of kindness that can turn a life around, and it’s anchored by a sensational Colón-Zayas, who brings a quiet dignity to a frequently misunderstood character. Here, the actor tells GQ about filming Tina’s emotional origin story.

Did you have any ideas or theories for what Tina’s backstory might be before this episode?

The only decision I made for myself was that she was from New York. She's a transplant. Other than that, it was such a mystery that I didn't want to invent something that no one was asking me to invent.

How did it feel reading the script for the first time?

It was heartbreaking, but also Tina was just like any other normal blue-collar, working, poor mom who had a loving partner, and they were doing the best that they could. This could happen to [anyone]. You could be loyal to a corporation for decades and decades, and the profit margin wins. I identify with so much of Tina's journey that I understood her behaviour in season one. I understand it now.

What resonated with you most?

That she is a woman of colour in a male-dominated situation, surviving by being herself and being strong. She's complicated and she's layered, and she could be a bear mom to this place. And she can be a goofball, and she carries herself in a certain way because she has to survive. She is also profoundly generous and caring and loving.

Ayo Edebiri directed this episode. What was it like working with her as a director?

Ayo has always shown, from day one, curiosity, off-the-charts intelligence, shenanigans and preparedness. And that's what she brought into this: [she] prepared hard, we talked, collaborated. When I first heard that she was going to direct, I was like, “Yeah, she's ready.” So it was just smooth [and] easy, other than the tragic heartbreak.

She doesn't impose. She'll say her vision, and she'll let you do your thing. She might step in and give you a note, mostly because it's technical. And I asked for that because my main background is theatre. Of course, you come in with the inner life, but you gotta do it to the back of the audience. Whereas [with TV], the slightest thing could misalign, so she gave me that. And I hope this is the first of many more for her. She deserves it.

You also have your real-life husband, David Zayas, playing your husband in this episode. How did that come to be?

It turns out that [creator] Chris Storer and others are huge fans of David Zayas from his days of Dexter and Oz and Gotham and all that. So Chris was like, “Do you think he would be interested in being on the show a little bit?” And I was like, “Yeah.” David had come to visit one time on set, and I guess they fell in love, and then that's how it happened. He's another one that’s easy. We met through acting at a theatre company. Since then, we've acted in so many projects together, so him playing my husband was just so easy. He just relaxes me. He helps me feel grounded, generous.

Let’s break down the scene at The Beef where Tina meets Mikey. The episode hinges on this open and honest conversation between them. Was there a lot of preparation behind it for you and Jon Bernthal?

I wanted it to feel as organically flowing as possible. So I worked on the script. Quietly go through line by line and really chart what I think we're trying to get from each other. For me, I have to do it that way, so that on the day it feels fresh. [Jon Bernthal] is just such a pro. He is such a master. I just didn't want to let Ayo down.

It took two days to shoot, because the first [day was] where we're entering [The Beef] and that whole madness. Then the next day was in the dining room, and there's technical stuff there with the pinball game and that noise. What comes in is loud and jarring, and we move into this quiet where all of it is still going on, but then it's just us two. Somehow it becomes white noise and [Tina and Mikey] become the focus. We ran the scene a couple times, which I asked for. I was a little nervous, and [Jon] was more than happy to. He just makes it easy to be available, to be open, to be loose.

When she sits down in The Beef after weeks of looking for work, she finally breaks down into tears. What do you think is triggering that?

That kindness. That one thing of, I don't know how broke she was, but maybe she didn't just go in there for a cup of coffee. I think the dam burst in that moment. Sometimes food will bring up memories and feelings, and I think that there's something about how warm and delicious [the food was.] [It] took her to a place that allowed her to admit that she's terrified of losing all of it.

In the first two seasons, we’ve seen Tina primarily as this hardened and resilient person. Was there something cathartic in portraying that release?

I think that that scene encapsulates why [Tina’s] grief, and all of our grief is so profound. [Mikey] was reckless, but he would do these grand gestures of generosity and decency. He was that guy.

Tina and Mike understand each other right away. What do you think made their relationship special?

This was Mikey's house. He opened up the doors not just to people from the neighbourhood to eat. He knew things about the community. He gave purpose to the broken toys.

In that conversation, Tina mentions that she doesn’t really have a dream job. Do you think she’s found her dream job in the restaurant?

She wants it to be. As you see in season three, levelling up comes with a whole new set of challenges, and I think she wants to do well. I don't think she's anywhere near having the light go out. I think that being entrusted with the sous chef title has reignited some passion in her and that's exciting.

At the end of the episode, there’s a beautiful moment where Tina is looking at her apron and smiling. What’s going through her head at that moment?

A light at the end of the tunnel. Salvation. Like she said, “I don't want to save the world. I just want to feed my kid.” She's got a reprieve. She doesn't have to lie at the dinner table and pretend.