‘The Bear’ Review: The Last Dance in the Kitchen

Many fans of The Bear’s first season had the feeling that the series had lost its way over the next three. For some, the damage was irreversible. For this writer, though, it was always clear that there was still a great deal of raw talent in every season, even if it was sometimes expressed clumsily, vaguely, almost in a rush — as if the obligation to deliver a new batch of episodes every year left little room to really think through the menu. For its fifth and final season, creator Christopher Storer makes the smart decision to return to the show’s roots, bringing out what The Bear does best: its most human side — chaotic yet sensitive, funny yet brutal — and choosing to look at things from the brighter (or at least slightly brighter) side of life.

With a more evenly distributed focus than in previous seasons, season five is more of an ensemble piece than ever, picking up directly after the events of the last one. SPOILER ALERT FOR THE PREVIOUS SEASON. As viewers will recall, season four ended with Carmy Berzatto (Jeremy Allen White) announcing his intention to leave the restaurant where he serves as head chef. He recognizes himself as a toxic presence, someone who creates a difficult work environment, and realizes that staying isn’t good for him or for anyone else. Initially stunned, Sydney (Ayo Edebiri) and Richie (Ebon Moss-Bachrach) decide to carry on the business in their respective roles. To make matters worse, their uncle and financial backer, Cicero (Oliver Platt), has already made it clear that the restaurant is on the brink of bankruptcy.

What follows is the single day that will occupy almost the entire eight-episode season — a day that could double as a farewell to the restaurant, to Carmy, and to the entire chaotic family (both biological and chosen) that surrounds it. As if that weren’t enough, a torrential storm hits: the restaurant floods, everything breaks down, half the systems stop working — from credit cards to reservations to the flickering power — and, due to budget constraints, dishes have to be scaled back in ingredients, size, whatever they can manage. Nothing bodes well for a service already under pressure, especially with the suspicion that one of the diners might be a Michelin inspector. Everyone knows that a single star could save the restaurant from going under.

And that’s essentially what the final season delivers: organizational chaos as the team struggles to get through the day amid constant operational breakdowns, intertwined with emotional chaos tied to each character’s personal circumstances. Parents, mothers (Jamie Lee Curtis returns), exes, spouses all resurface, adding to the tension of a group that knows this could be the restaurant’s last day — the possible end of something that took enormous effort and sacrifice to build, perhaps coming to a close on this very stormy, emotionally charged night.

The Bear returns to being a show about the day-to-day: the practical jokes, the unexpected humor, the emotional outbursts that come out of nowhere, and the tensions within this makeshift family that can swing from love to resentment in a matter of minutes. Richie emerges as something close to the central character, largely taking charge of steering things through — with his own complications, of course — while Sydney finds herself overwhelmed by her central role in managing the day. Meanwhile, outside the restaurant, Uncle Cicero and other relatives (including the ever-present “Computer”) scramble to secure additional funds to keep things afloat. It won’t be easy. And the weather isn’t helping.

With far fewer cameos than in previous seasons (though a few appear in flashbacks and others will show up — well, you’ll see), The Bear delivers its strongest season since the first. It’s hard not to be moved by some of the moments experienced by the characters who work there — Liza Colón-Zayas, in particular, earns every tear — as we see the paths they’ve taken, the sacrifices they’ve endured, and the effort they pour into keeping the ship from sinking. Maybe just for one last night. No one knows, but everyone is already thinking about a Plan B.

Even so, they’re all there, in the middle of the chaos, the leaks, and the endless stream of customers to satisfy, trying to rise above themselves and their circumstances, offering what feels like “the last dance” — the company’s final performance. It may or may not be, but that’s the feeling that runs through all of them: giving one last extra push for the team. No one knows what comes next.

Emotional, humane, tense, dramatic, and often very funny — not quite enough to qualify as a comedy, but that’s the Emmys for you — The Bear has been, despite its dips in quality, one of the defining series of the decade. And it ends on a high note: leaning into the best of its characters, their brighter side, and celebrating the idea that, despite all the problems that surround us — and the ones we sometimes create ourselves — what matters most is holding on to those families and friends who keep us going, who are there in both the good times and the bad.