The Bear recap: "Non-Negotiables"
“Next” restores the frenetic, overlapping dialogue that first made us fall in love with The Original Beef
[Editor’s note: The recap of episode three publishes July 1. This recap contains spoilers.]
The Bear is back, baby. After an oddly sluggish season premiere, “Next” returns us to the show’s baseline. Whereas “Tomorrow” roved the world and was extremely light on dialogue, “Next” restores the frenetic, overlapping rhythms that first made us fall in love with The Original Beef: a freewheeling jazz beat, the alto sax screeching with rancor even as the bassist strums a steady heartbeat of unconditional love.
Though Christopher Storer’s background is in TV and stand-up specials, it’d be easy to assume that he came up in theater; his dialogue is so dense, punchy, and character-specific that it practically leaps off the screen. And “Next,” a bottle episode set almost entirely within the cramped confines of the kitchen at The Bear, is the closest the show’s come to a play.
We pick up where “Tomorrow” left off, with a sleepless Carmy ensconced in his castle with his six reworked dishes; a frantically scribbled list of Non-Negotiables; and a partnership agreement outlining how much of the restaurant Sydney, Natalie, and he each get a cut of.
Over the course of 25 real-time minutes, each member of Carmy’s quirky little family enters one by one, immediately clocking that their fearful leader is far from fine. (The fact that he decided to quit smoking literally hours before sure doesn’t ease the tension.)
The first to arrive is Chi-Chi, played by none other than Christopher J. Zucchero, the owner of the IRL Mr. Beef. He’s come bearing a box of micro-radishes and a pertinent question: “Why are these micros so expensive?” “Because they’re micro,” Carmy deadpans. Chi-Chi reminds him that, if he doesn’t want to lose the Original Beef regulars, he needs to open that sandwich window, stat. That Carmy barely registers this advice is a telling sign that he’s drifted far afield of his dream for the restaurant.
Next comes Natalie, who immediately registers that her brother is doing real, real bad, no matter how much he insists that he’s “good” and “focused.” She’s forthcoming about her own anxieties: With only two months until the baby arrives, she wishes there were a quick and dirty way to ditch her considerable baggage in re: parenting. More pressing, however, is that Non-Negotiables list, a document Carmy really ought to pass along to a therapist, not his employees.
Uncle Jimmy (Oliver Platt) arrives fast on her heels, followed by Sydney. Her keen culinary eye lands on the melted mess of hours-old dishes laid out on the prep table—and on her jittery business partner standing beside him, his hands shaking as he pops a Nicorette into his mouth.
Here is a guy utterly transformed from the one who gifted her a custom set of chef’s whites only days before and told her it was a trap to focus on chasing after a Michelin star. Now, it’s all he can see in front of him. As he disintegrates before their eyes, Syd and Nat share a look that’s like: How do we stop this man we both love from finding new ways to drive himself into a brick wall? The answer isn’t forthcoming.
Syd balks at one Non-Negotiable in particular: Change menu every day. When she asks Carm why he’s pushing himself—and by extension, everyone else—this hard, he says it’s “so they can see what we’re capable of.” “Who’s ‘they’?” Oh, Syd, you should know the answer by now: It’s the Joel McHale and Donna Berzatto yelling at him inside his head, of course!
When Richie (Ebon Moss-Bachrach) walks in, looking like the angel of death in his all-black suit combo, everyone girds their loins for the return of the show’s original original beef: the one between these two reluctant “cousins.” He and Carm immediately revert to their season-one selves, trading childish barbs with Sydney caught between them. After all, it’s been less than 12 hours since they tore each other apart through the door of the lock-in, working with surgical precision.
Richie accuses Carm of creating an “environment of fear” in his “dojo” (a.k.a. front-of-house) by rearranging the tables and calls him a “baby Replicant who’s not self-actualized”—causing me to laugh so hard that I spit iced coffee onto my laptop keyboard.
Ayo Edebiri punches every consonant when she growls, “Shut. The fuck. Up.” Our girl Syd has finally learned to shout louder than these two chuckleheads. Carm and Richie will continue to bicker throughout the episode, whether they’re telling each other to get fucked or Richie is offering an excellent argument as to why it’s a stupid idea to constantly rework the menu: “What if I changed the beef sandwich every day?”
The hand of God, probably, further ramps up the stress by causing the overhead lights to fritz. Even the arrival of jovial bros Neil and Ted Fak (Matty Matheson and Ricky Staffieri) can’t fix the bad vibes—but Ted can at least fix the lightbulb. Tina accurately diagnoses the Non-Negotiables list as crazy, which Carm handily refutes by screaming, “I’M NOT CRAZY! I’M NOT CRAZY!” But everyone shuts up real quick when Richie lobs a grenade: “Ask Claire if he’s crazy.”
Ted decides to make it worse by casually mentioning that he saw Claire Bear last night “at a friend’s.” Read the room, my guy! After a whole lot of pressing, the gang finally gets Carmy to explain what exactly he told his wonderful, supportive girlfriend to make her leave in tears: “Basically, I said that I thought it was all a waste of time because I am who I am.” Poor Nat’s heart breaks so loud that you can practically hear it.
A very different kind of silence descends when Marcus comes through the doors, looking even worse for wear than Carm. Before anyone can offer their condolences, he tells them he just wants to lose himself in his work and not think about his mother’s death. And boy, does Carm get it. In the end, it’s not Syd, Nat, nor Richie who understand him best, but gentle, diligent Marcus.
After everyone has departed to do their work before opening, Carmy approaches his grieving pastry chef—the first person he’s had a kind word for all day. If anyone knows from losing yourself in work to cope with suffering a massive loss, it’s Bear.
Like Carm was when he got the news about Mikey, Marcus was in the kitchen when his mom passed. “I think that’s how it was supposed to be,” he explains. “Like, she wanted me to be with y’all. This is what’s up now. This place has gotta work.” Lionel Boyce proves himself Jeremy Allen White’s equal in conveying true devastation when he meets his boss’ eyes and says, “Take us there, Bear.” And what other reply can Carmy give but “Yes, Chef”?
Stray observations
- A few highlights from the list of Non-Negotiables: Personal hygiene; know your shit; vibrant collaboration; technique, technique, technique (misspelled); and, per Nat, “Something about teaspoons.”
- Syd and Emmanuel’s (Robert Townsend) father-daughter rapport in the cold open is pitch-perfect, the former reminding him to take his blood pressure meds as the latter describes the crap he’s taking in vivid detail.
- The Bear takes us back to its own roots with a loving ode to Chicago that runs under the opening credits, set to a Pearl Jam cover of The English Beats’ “Save It For Later.” The sequence features trips inside beloved local restaurants like Schneider Deli, Lou Mitchell’s, Jim’s Original, and Tortello, plus footage of the unsung heroes who keep the Windy City running—from hotel maids to firefighters to meatpackers who show us how the literal sausage gets made.
- Since Gary is preparing to take a sommelier class, Richie gives him a guide to vino by wine expert Richard Betts—a book that is, in fact, scratch-and-sniff. “Bite your tongue!” he shouts. “Betts is the fuckin’ G.”
- As if opening weren’t looking hairy enough already, Syd drops the bomb that four of their staffers quit the previous night because they didn’t want to work in a “dysfunctional kitchen.” Oh, my friends. You don’t know the half of it.
- When someone brings up the subject of the tipping policy at The Bear, I was shocked to learn that everyone but Richie was on the wrong side of history. “It’s pretty fucked-up practice,” he argues. As a former server, I gotta take a moment to shame Carmy and Syd here. Front-out-house staffers are people, too!
- The song that wraps up Marcus and Carmy’s heart-to-heart is Radiohead’s “(Nice Dream)”—the lyrics of which couldn’t be a better ode to The Bear’s themes of found family: “They love me like I was a brother / They protect me, listen to me/ They dug me my very own garden / Gave me sunshine, made me happy.”
- “Nat, the vibe’s weird!” “I know, sweetheart. Don’t be scared.”