Internationally it’s been roundly praised for the often-savage depiction of life in hospitality, its Wilco-peppered soundtrack, and Jeremy Allen White.

White plays lead protagonist Carmen Berzatto, or Carmy. Rightly praised for his performance, you may have other opinions on whether he’s heralded the “Line Cook Summer,” as Sarah York wrote for US food outlet Bon Appetit. Everyone’s Horny for the Sexually Competent Dirtbag Line Cook, reads the headline. But judging by reaction in my DMs after a call out on opinions (of the show) it’s not, it seems, inaccurate. 

Carmy’s backstory, which we dip into throughout the eight episodes of season one, is of a chef who rose to the upper echelons of the restaurant industry but is drawn back to Chicago when his brother takes his own life, leaving him The Original Beef of Chicagoland. A fall from grace and the setup for a story of redemption that could carry across years. Season two has been greenlit. 

There are liberal references to noma, Eleven Madison Park and The French Laundry, often mocked by Richie, the chain-smoking blue-collar foil to Carmy – hailed as a breakout role for Ebon Moss-Bachrach. When we meet the crew of The Original Beef they’re in the pirate ship mould straight from the pages of Anthony Bourdain’s Kitchen Confidential; Carmy’s expectation of building a professional brigade where everyone is referred to as “chef,” and elevating the offering, a constant source of friction. 

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The word most used by chefs I’m in contact with is “triggering.” To those who’ve never worked in a kitchen, or the hospitality industry at large, it may just be another entertaining fiction but for anyone who has cried in a cool room, compared scars physical and mental, and still pushed on day after day, its depiction of dysfunction and aggression may not be a chilled binge watch.

Matt Stone, of newly opened You Beauty, says “I thought it was great: the most real version of life as a cook I’ve seen. I couldn’t stop watching once I’d started.”

Reportedly much of the realism is in part thanks to Canadian chef Matty Matheson, a long-time friend of the show’s creator Christopher Storer, who served as an executive producer and consultant. Matheson also stars as handyman Neil Fak. If you didn’t know your chefs then you’d peg him for a character actor, such is his performance, often offering the lighter moments. 

Sydney based chef Alex Herbert comments that we rarely see the customers who make up such a huge part of the equation of any business, and that some of the kitchen scenes were stilted. “Where was the noise, the chaos, the hustle especially just before service,” she says. A matter of opinion perhaps. The penultimate episode depicts a rapid and destructive decline between central characters. The atmosphere is palpable, and there’s plenty of chaos. As I said, triggering. 

Some take issue with yet another depiction of the angry male chef trope. I’m certainly not a fan of the often two dimensional shouty chef, but in Carmy we see why he is built the way he is, the trauma and grief, and ultimately the steps he takes to deal with it. Both good and bad. I’d echo Alex Herbert who says she saw it more as a human story which could have been in any setting. A “family meal” scene was the most powerful, she says. “It’s a cliche but true. Good restaurant teams are family.”

And maybe that’s what The Bear is, a story not of kitchens but of family.

The Bear is available to stream now on Disney+.

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