Vulnerability and “The Bear”
[slight spoiler alert]
Have you watched FX’s “The Bear”? Here’s how one fine Wikipedia contributor sums up the premise:
A young chef from the world of fine dining comes home to Chicago to run his family's Italian beef sandwich shop after the suicide of his older brother, who left behind debts, a dilapidated kitchen, and an unruly staff.
The show is an entertaining romp into the high and low of the food(ie) world, where the emotions of its characters reach boiling points and overflow a gurgling pot of San Marzano pomodoro sauce.
What’s more, is that the show is a noteworthy display of cis-gendered men outwardly exhibiting moments of emotional vulnerability.
If unbridled screaming isn’t exactly part of your wind down bedtime ritual, this show may not be the last piece of content you consume before shutting down for the day, as the characters do seem to be shouting over a punk rock score for 80% of the show.
However, it is in the quiet moments, the one to one interactions, where there are powerful and emotionally vulnerable check ins that warm the soul like a slice of Swinger’s (RIP) warm apple pie a la mode.
In the last episode of Season 1, Carmy sits beside his hot headed cousin, Richie (brilliantly played by Ebon-Moss Bachrach), who’s just been bailed out of jail. Carmy asks, “You OK?” to which Richie fights back tears, and reluctantly responds “Yeah – you’re all I got cuz.” It’s subtle yet a wonderful moment in which Richie’s pain is palpable and his vulnerability is undeniable.
Earlier in the episode, Sydney (also brilliantly performed by Ayo Edebiri), expresses a tinge of guilt (whilst preparing a beautiful tomato confit) when she checks in with her fellow chef, Marcus, after he was berated in the kitchen:
Sydney: I um, I feel kinda bad because I haven’t really asked you how you’re doing since everything… you know.
Marcus: Yeah, well, I feel okay. Better. You know my head just got really fucked up for a minute.
Sydney: Welcome to the club.
Marcus: Is that not weird though?Sydney: It would be completely weird to work in a restaurant and not completely lose your mind.
How Sydney validates Marcus in this moment of vulnerability is another beautiful moment of relational warmth between friends.
This isn’t all to say that it’s a perfectly crafted commentary or rejection of patriarchal tropes (lead character, Carmy, the white male prodigy chef can still violently lash out on his staff of diversely represented underlings only to apologize the next day and be forgiven, because of course, he is the boss and a genius).
This all being said, I appreciate how real the ruptures and repairs in this show, even if dramatic feeling at times, can feel — as well as the vulnerability of the emotional check ins. There is a sweet sincerity that runs through the show and its performances. The high and low food worlds collide as well in a way that food enthusiasts of all stripes can appreciate.
I see individuals and families in Santa Monica (where there is still some wonderful food to be had) and online (where the food is not as tasty). Feel free to reach out to me for a consultation to explore what therapy with me might be like.