Mike Stewart Writes

I’ve cut down on my television watching this year. 

• I canceled our Netflix subscription to save money.
• Our physical TV took a little tumble and now has a funky cracked screen.
• I’m finding fewer programs fun to watch.
• I’m trying to use my time more effectively.

But one of the shows I have kept up with is The Bear.

When a new season comes out, I devour it in about two or three days.

What interests me about it?

I’m a self-confessed nerd, so most of the media I consume has zombies, aliens, or time travel involved. 

The Bear has none of these.

It’s a sort of comedic drama series about a man, played by Jeremy Allen White, trying to build a restaurant from the shell of his family’s small sandwich shop after it is left to him by his late brother. The entire cast is brilliant. The show itself is an aesthetic masterpiece. 

This is very much unlike most of what I tend to watch.

There is no multiverse involved.

No spaceships.

None of the characters can even fly.

It is, however, a fantastic show. 

It has won or been nominated for tons of awards, so that goes without saying.

The Bear is incredibly well written, well shot, and well acted.

Some episodes are quite light on dialogue, which is quite brave when the dialogue is usually so realistic.

But yes, sometimes The Bear relies on visuals to tell its tale.

These are the episodes that make the series stand out most.

I don’t recommend this show to everyone.

Not everyone enjoys non-linear storytelling.

Some people want a nice clean story.

They like when characters explain everything that’s happening.

They like to always know what’s going on.

The Bear doesn’t do this.

Many episodes leave you wondering what’s going to happen as the characters don’t say anything about their feelings or what they’re planning to do.

This makes the show incredibly realistic.

Most of us are unsure of what we’re going to do at any given moment, and we rarely vocalize our thoughts.

So, no, this show is not for everyone. 

It is atmospheric, psychologically draining at times, visceral, and frustrating to watch these characters making mistakes and not making the decisions we as the audience wishes they would.

That last thing is quite true of most television shows, I’d say (ie: Fear the Walking Dead…)

The food

A great deal of the footage is also spent on food.

Obviously a show about a restaurant would focus on food.

But The Bear brings us up close and inside the process of culinary mastery.

The food we see on screen is always a work of art.

Bright white plates shine with a small piece of mysterious meat placed delicately off-center. 

Next to this “meat” we find the smallest drizzle of some sort of sauce and a few leaves or twigs to decorate the dish.

We are not meant to know what any of these things are. 

This food, in its fancy plating,  is of a level that the average viewer will never know the taste of.

Is it duck? Pork? Some rare species of kangaroo? 

The audience is seldom informed.

And then it is unceremoniously tossed into a trash bin or scraped into a sink.

Somehow, it is never good enough.

I find myself gasping every time a plate gets dumped.

“I’ll take it! Let me try it!” I shout to the screen.

Perfection is the goal and the curse

The staring eyes of Jeremy Allen White or Ayo Edebiri’s Sydney, who quickly rises to leadership in the kitchen, are a major feature of The Bear.

The stare as they look within the food portray just how strongly they yearn for perfection.

Tweezers in hand, they hunch over a plate, surgically placing ingredients into position.

If they are off by a fraction of an inch, into the trash it goes. 

This need for perfection is the driving force behind most of the characters.

From the placement of glasses on tables, to the exact temperature of each ingredient, perfection is an unattainable goal that leads to endless anxiety for everyone who goes by “Chef.”

Never satisfied. Never happy.

There are deep psychological motifs running through The Bear.

It is a series about surviving as a human while focusing more on some lofty end goal rather than their own health and happiness. 

This speaks to many people.

From divorce, alcoholism and substance abuse, to serious mental health issues even leading to suicide…

These issues are exacerbated by the constant stress of trying to create the perfect dish, and it turn, the perfect restaurant. 

• The characters do smile.

• They love each other.

• They care about each other,

• But their drive for perfection, fame and success keep them in a constant state of stress.

Do we all strive for such perfection?

I doubt it.

I have no statistics here…

but I imagine most people are just trying to move forward, not up.

• Most of us are simply trying to survive.

• Some of us are trying to move upward, yes. 

• Some have lofty goals. 

• Some have high hopes.

But the rest are trying to get through the day and hopefully the next day as well.

I paint. I draw. I make art. 

This is what I’ve focused on for much of my adult life.

When making a “masterpiece” or simply a fun sketch, artists strive for some level of perfection.

I get “the stare” too. 

How many hours or days have I stood over a canvas or drafting page…

trying to get something “just right”?

I erase. 

I add more.

I paint over it.

I tear it up and start over.

Never satisfied. Never happy.

I write. I tell stories.

This is what I’ve been focusing on lately.

I’ve always been writing. Always loved it.

I took a minor in English in university and focused on creative writing.

I’ve won small awards.

I’ve been published.

When writing a “masterpiece” or simply a little poem, writers strive for some level of perfection.

I get “the stare” too.

“Is this comma in the right place?” 

“Have you used this word too many times already?”

“Couldn’t this be simpler?”

“Have I written too much?”

“Who’s going to read this far down the page?”

“Is it interesting enough?”

“Isn’t this list too long?”

“Should there be quotation marks on these questions?”

so…

I erase. 

I add more.

I replace words.

I tear it up and start over.

Never satisfied. Never happy.

Why do we need to be perfect?

Why when there is so much imperfection all around us.

Imperfection, heck, mediocrity!

Mediocrity that goes unquestioned, and even praised.

So why do some of us keep grinding?

Why try for that perfect plate?

• It seems to be a kind of overcompensation

We are trying to overcome our innate fear of failure. 

• We worry and focus on how others see us

  It’s my painting, but your eyes matter more.

These may be two of the reasons we seek perfection in everything.

I’m sure there are plenty more.

Some of which are far more dangerous.

Hence, the psychological turmoil we see on The Bear.

I cook too

I don’t cook like they do on The Bear though. 

I don’t get “the stare.”

I enjoy throwing random things together and seeing how edible the outcome is.

A lot less stressful.

And I’ve never tossed a dish in the trash for not looking perfect.

So perhaps that’s another thing I enjoy about the show.

They have a passion for something I can not comprehend.

They’re passionate about food.

• I love eating.

• I enjoy cooking.

• But, no, I’m not passionate about it. 

Getting my plating or sauce consistency perfect doesn’t send me into a mental spiral.

That kind of passion is foreign to me.

It’s alien to me.

Oh there it is!

It is about aliens…