FX’s hit drama series (it’s a drama, not a comedy, fight me), The Bear has returned for its fourth season. After receiving a mixed review from the Chicago Tribune, Carmy (Jeremy Allen White). Richie (Ebon Moss-Bachrach), Syd (Ayo Edebiri), and the rest of the crew are racing against the clock to turn their restaurant into something actually profitable, as the financial safety net from Uncle Cicero (Oliver Platt) starts to evaporate. With the cash burning fast, the pressure’s cranked up, and the usual suspects of trauma, depression, anxiety, and dread come creeping back in, threatening to pull the whole operation under. Leaving The Bear’s future hanging in the balance.
While the third season of The Bear was undeniably well made, the narrative hit a bit of a standstill. The series was still expertly crafted, beautifully acted, but ultimately a slow-moving spiral of side quests and existential dread as everyone waited around for the much-hyped Chicago Tribune review that would decide the restaurant’s fate. Frustrating? Yes. But I was still locked in. So heading into season four, with the review finally out and the clock officially ticking, I was hopeful. But, unfortunately, it still feels like we’re stuck in place.
Now before I bog the room down with too much doom and gloom, let me take a moment to say what I did appreciate about this season’s narrative. I really liked how The Bear drew a clear connection to Harold Ramis’ 1993 masterpiece Groundhog Day, where our chefs are stuck in a soul-sucking, repetitive cycle of work. The days begin to blur together, and their lives revolve entirely around the chaos of the restaurant. Burnout starts creeping in, dragging each of them down the dangerous path of depression and self-destruction. I respected that commentary, especially because I’m dealing with burnout myself. Watching the characters try to break free from that cycle should have resonated. But for some reason, it didn’t as I simply didn’t care.
I can’t quite put my finger on it, but I kept frustratingly clocking out this season, and I’m not entirely sure why. Maybe it’s because the characters are starting to get on my nerves as they continue to make the same mistakes over and over again. There’s a complete lack of communication outside of screaming matches, and no one seems capable of admitting they have actual problems. Or maybe it’s the fact that the show feels like it’s holding up a giant neon sign that reads “seek therapy, mental health is important.” And while I agree with the sentiment, the delivery is starting to wear thin. Deep down, I found myself beginning to resent the show a little. It keeps leaning on the same tricks such as characters yelling, frantic editing to manufacture chaos and tension, as if that alone can push the narrative forward. But four seasons in, it feels like those techniques are doing a lot more heavy lifting than they should, because the story itself just isn’t pulling its weight.
Don’t get me wrong. The Bear is still undeniably well made, and from a technical standpoint, the filmmaking is firing on all cylinders. The cinematography remains beautiful and intimate, capturing the kitchen’s claustrophobic chaos with precision, while somehow making every single dish look mouth wateringly delicious. The editing is sharp, chaotic, and fiery in all the right ways, perfectly mirroring our characters’ inner turmoil. The score and soundtrack continues to pack a punch. And the acting? Still phenomenal. This ensemble cast continues to deliver some of the most compelling and emotionally raw performances on television right now.
Even with all that craft and technical brilliance, I just couldn’t bring myself to care about this season. Something in the story didn’t land, and I kept waiting to feel pulled in, but it never really happened. That lack of connection made everything else, no matter how well it was executed, feel strangely hollow. I do think The Bear has a clear destination in mind, and I genuinely hope season five is the final one, but it feels like the show is unsure how to get there. Instead, it spins its wheels, dragging out the narrative by having characters repeat the same mistakes, stretching conflicts that should have been resolved well before the halfway point. The commentary, while valid, is delivered with all the subtlety of a slap to the face. The Bear is beginning to lose its edge, yet it remains so impeccably crafted that I cannot completely write it off. Which leaves me stuck somewhere in the middle, torn between admiring the show’s technical strengths and feeling exhausted by its storytelling choices.
My Rating: B
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