The Bear's Cameo Problem - What Happened to The Bear: Part Two

Welcome back to my dissertation on the recent seasons of The Bear. Check out Part One on my profile.

Anyway, the rant continues:

Part V: Guest List

Early on, one of many elements that set The Bear apart from other dramas was its approach to casting. From its first season, the show had a unique cocktail of different performers and acting styles. You had classically trained vets (Ebon Moss-Bacharach, Liza Colón-Zayas), comedians with little dramatic experience (Ayo Edebiri, Lionel Boyce), and complete non-actors from the cooking world (Matty Matheson).

This was a gamble, and one that didn’t always pay off. In its best moments however, the combination was electric. Improv driven scenes pulled magic out of the vets. You could feel the authenticity when a minor character was played by a real chef. For a show frequently about the effect of chaos on creativity, The Bear’s form matched its function. Its eclectic cast was part of that.

Then came season two. The show was a massive hit. The budget went up, and the big names started calling. The Bear could have opted to keep things low-key, and stuck with reliable TV stars and relative unknowns. Or it could indulge in some top talent and bring movie star juice to the small screen. The show chose the latter option, big time.

In the first season, Jon Bernthal, (a not terribly famous man), was the only big guest star. By the time we reach season two’s “Fishes”, the series is comfortable dropping four big names in a single episode.

Don’t get me wrong, a few of the show’s celebrity guests really work. Some are stars of yesteryear (Rob Reiner) or rising stars unfamous enough to disappear into the show’s tapestry (Will Poulter, Danielle Deadwyler). Other times the series uses big stars (Jamie Lee Curtis, Olivia Coleman) to reflect a character’s status within the world of the show.

Sometimes though, a guest star will feel arbitrary and distracting. Did Concerned Aunt #2 really need to be Sarah Paulson?

With these celeb guest stars comes an obligation to bring them back. Paulson, Bob Odenkirk, John Mulaney and more all return in the fourth season. With an ensemble that’s already getting a little unwieldy (that wedding selfie doesn’t even include most of the kitchen staff), these celebs eat up valuable airtime. Some of the best stuff this season was the minor storylines with Ebra and Sweeps. Couldn’t they get a little more focus?

However, there are worse celebrity guest flavours than just “arbitrary.” Season three has the first instance of the joke cameo. The most egregious one is John Cena, who shows up as a previously unseen member of the Fak family. The joke here is that you are supposed to recognize Cena, and be delighted by the idea that he could be a Fak. Thankfully, Cena isn’t in season four, and I thought the show had learned its lesson. Only for it to pull the exact same joke with Brie Larson.

Here’s my general feeling: the show needs more characters like Computer, an authentic Chicago dude played by a previously unknown actor. Computer pulls me into the world of the show. A wrestler I’m supposed to recognize pulls me right the hell out.

Speaking of the Faks:

Part VI: Because It’s Funny

The Bear has won countless Emmys in the “Comedy” category, and it gets a lot of online flack for that. In fairness, the show was very funny. Its secret weapon was a clever mix of tones. Amidst intense kitchen scenes and emotional outbursts, a sudden joke would be a surprise.

The jokes also felt like they came from the characters, and sometimes even fleshed them out. Carmen and Richie’s unjustified hatred of Pete, for example, was not only funny but also carried some unspoken subtext about the Berzatto’s class status.

Don’t get me wrong, The Bear still has jokes, and some of them are still funny. They just feel increasingly disconnected from the story and characters.

I have nothing against the Faks, or the actors who play them. I really liked the moment in season four when Ted feebly tries to convince Carmen that Claire isn’t home. It’s connected to the story, speaks to the character’s relationship, and builds both comedic and dramatic tension. Increasingly though, Neil and Ted’s scenes don’t do any of that.

Again, I chuckled a handful of times at the antics of the Faks in the last two seasons. The problem is more that they feel completely self-contained and inconsequential. That might be okay for a few scenes, but it feels like there is at least one Fak improv session in every episode. In seasons that are already low on propulsion, these moments are deadly for the show’s momentum.

They also flatten the characters. Neil was always a goofball, but in early seasons his status as The Beef’s handyman would sometimes figure into the plot. It’s Neil who figures out “Jewish Lightning” and saves the restaurant from permanent closure. Now, Neil and Ted have become such broad caricatures that they can no longer participate in the show’s drama. Their scenes feel like goofy transitions between those with the real characters.

“What does he do here?” Luca once inquires about Ted.

Marcus: “You know, I’m not sure.”

Part VII: Conclusion

If Season Two’s switch to fine dining reflected the series aiming for new heights, the current ambivalence of its characters seems to reflect a writing team that’s cursed by its own success. The story has been told, and seasons four and five feel like an extended epilogue.

That probably sounds harsh. I want to clarify that I don’t hate this series. Far from it! I wrote this because I love The Bear. I’m confident that just like its troubled characters, it can sort itself out.

Of course, The Bear is still a very acclaimed and successful show, so maybe the showrunners have no need to course correct. But if it continues down this road, I know its audience will eventually abandon it.

That would be a shame. Because when The Bear was cooking at full strength - when Tina was singing Karaoke and Mikey was throwing forks - I’d never had anything like it.