REVIEW: ‘The Bear’ Season 4 Tries to Bounce Back

The Bear Season 4 finds itself in unstable territory as it tries to reclaim its past magic. Following a disappointing Season 3 that prioritized an art-house aesthetic over quality, the latest round does its best to grapple with characters who are learning from their mistakes while letting the series tackle its own as well. That said, while there are definite efforts put in to walk back the frustration of Season 3, it’s clearer than ever that The Bear is lost in what it is and what it’s trying to say. 

This wouldn’t be so damning if the series didn’t drown itself in its own egregious, stifling, air of self-importance. Every sequence, every conversation between characters, bristles with this need to be about something. Yet the best moments are in silent acts of camaraderie and the easy chemistry between the cast members. The best part about The Bear Season 4 is that the team of writers remembers this key aspect. Sure, not every character is getting along, and there will forever be a strenuous tension in Carmy’s (Jeremy Allen White) and Sydney’s (Ayo Edebiri) relationship, but the writing at least allows them to interact. 

The bulk of the drama in The Bear Season 4 stems from Sydney’s decision over whether to leave The Bear in pursuit of stability or to stick it out despite the disruptive chaos Carmy seems hell-bent on fostering. Her feelings, however, are challenged by a seemingly apologetic Carmy, who, after the stress and anger he caused in Seasons 2 and 3, has backed off his emotional rampages. This Carmen is one who looks inward and seeks redemption and tranquility, no matter how hard-won it is. And however many packs of nicotine gum he plows through.

The Bear Season 4 allows the talented ensemble cast to work off one another. 

Additionally, there’s the running clock, which indicates just how much time they have until the restaurant is officially out of funds. And that running clock serves as the season’s constant ripple of stress, driving each character forward. 

But it’s not just Carmy and Syd who are dealing with ever-shifting relationships. Ebon Moss-Bachrach, after being sidelined in Season 3, returns in a major way as Richie deals with his fear of failure and perceived inadequacies. As he and Carmy begin to rebuild bridges after the violent burning of them, he must contend with other sensations of discontent and unease. He remains a wonderful character enriched by Moss-Bachrach’s soulful, naturalist performance. 

The entire cast is allowed moments to shine. Tina (Liza Colón-Zayas) and Ebra (Edwin Lee Gibson) continue to represent the old guard who are trying to find a definition of success that works for them. Marcus (Lionel Boyce) doesn’t get as much to do, though Boyce, alongside Edebiri, is responsible for one of the best-written episodes of Season 4 with “Worms.” 

Trying to reclaim old magic with varied results. 

“Worms” exemplifies what happens when The Bear succeeds in striking a certain, day-in-the-life tone without any pretense. It’s intimate yet funny, allows Sydney to explore her innermost anxieties and desires, but outside of the constant stress of the kitchen. It’s playful and harnesses the very best of the show’s energy, understanding how to be a character study first and foremost. 

The main problem with The Bear Season 4 is that it’s getting increasingly clear that the series has run out of things to say. It’s evident in recycling old plotlines, dragging others out, and the desire to recapture the magic and dread of “Fishes.” There’s even a bit of jump-the-shark foolishness in how Fak (Matty Matheson) is written and, more glaring, how the characters infantilize him and speak to him. Will Poulter appears like a mid-credit cut scene in a Marvel film. It’s desperation to be a serious show about serious topics (while also desperately trying to ascertain its status as a comedy) only makes its silliest aspects stand out that much more. 

There are redundancies in how it’s shot, too. There are only so many times when we can watch the characters traverse their city against artfully chosen folk songs or stare longingly out windows. The Bear loves itself some cooking montages – of which they’ve certainly earned some – but even those have grown tiresome. Because they lack tangible heat or texture, it might as well be an artfully staged reel – I’ve seen cooking TikToks with just as much finesse and counter angle focus. Just because you slap a Neutral Milk Hotel or Jason Isbell song on doesn’t make it immediately cinematic. 

Jeremy Allen White and co rise to the occasion even if the writing stumbles. 

It’s why the series is its most winsome when characters are awkwardly trying to converse, figuring out what their issues are as they say them aloud. Episode 7, “Bears,” features several key sequences. In one, Syd helps walk Richie back from a panic attack, as he fumbles for the words and means to articulate the emotional storm he’s enduring as he attends his ex-wife’s wedding.

Later, wordlessly, Syd and Richie extricate a fumbling, panicky Carmy away from an uncomfortable interaction with Donna (Jamie Lee Curtis), and this small beat highlights their enduring camaraderie better than any overly verbose scenes they all share. 

And yet “Bears” also has one of the more nauseatingly corny sequences, where the entire cast climbs underneath an ever-expanding table to help coax Richie’s daughter out to dance with her new stepdad, Frank (Josh Hartnett). It takes the idea and runs it into the ground rather than letting us focus on just a few characters whose own anxieties may help reassure a little girl.

The Bear is best when dealing with the complex relationships at its core.

The episode also further pushes the Claire narrative, something that has sunk its claws into the series since Season 2 and refuses to relent. There’s no issue with Carmy having a love interest, but the writing surrounding her is the definitive reason why ‘show, don’t tell’ is often evoked in criticism. 

As always, there are standout episodes. Episodes that best define what this series is capable of when it refuses to lose itself in the noise and investment in its bloated sense of worth. The problem is in The Bear Season 4 as a whole, not in its parts. Because it looks great and the characters remain, largely, engaging. And the performances are top-notch across the board, from its star to the many guest stars who pepper the series. The Bear, spanning its four seasons, understands the layered, complicated dynamics of working and familial relationships, and how, depending on the work environment, the two intersect and clash. 

The Bear Season 4 is a definite step up from Season 3, which lost what made the characters lovable. By walking back their mistakes, the series rediscovers that lost warmth. However, it brings with it an air of silliness by forcing each interaction to be important, to mean something, when all we want is to watch these characters interact and grow as they deal with the tumultuous hand of grief, ambition, and isolation that’s been dealt to them. Like the perfect dish, they’re looking for harmony, but one ingredient is always slightly off. 

The Bear Season 4 is out now on FX on Hulu.

Catch up with other season reviews:

Season 1 | Season 2 | Season 3