Rating: TV-MA | Episodes: 10 | Runtime: 40 minutes
Release Date: June 25th, 2025 (USA)
Studio: FX Network / Hulu
Creator(s): Christopher Storer

Today is tomorrow, Cousin.

I’m not one to talk considering I’ve only just watched season four the week season five released, but it is surprising no one really talks about the “The Bear” anymore. Yes, the third season was a major step back from the perfection of its first two, but did the entire world stop caring? I feel like this follow-up righted the ship so well that I would have remembered to watch it last year if anyone said so. The fact I heard nothing made me assume it just fell further.

We probably do need to talk about the writer’s strike in 2023 providing a big part of what went wrong for season three (it’s still good, but everything is relative). The way Christopher Storer, Joanna Calo, and company leaned so hard on archival footage and sensory montages really does make it seem less about vibes and aesthetics than necessity in hindsight. Like, maybe seasons three and four should have been combined, but there wasn’t enough time to do it.

So, they padded what they already had for season three to meet deadlines. They went esoteric and deconstructive while moving forward towards a “to be continued” rather than the gut-punch revelations made during season four’s finale “Goodbye”. It makes sense. It happens in an industry driven by goalposts and fiduciary responsibilities. You can’t just push things back a year and pretend like everyone’s schedules will align again.

Thankfully, it was just a stopgap to get the show back on track as season four finds its dramatic conflict point and does (sort of) reach a resolution. Because that’s the beauty of seasons one and two. They had their question (“Can Carmy save The Beef?” and “Can The Beef successfully transition to The Bear?”, respectively) and answers (“Yes, thanks to Syd and a shelf of red sauce cans.” and “Yes, but that success might lead to failure shortly thereafter.”).

Season four’s question is essentially the same as season three: “How does The Bear’s team work through the chaos of that second finale?” Sure, the latter added more conflict via Uncle Jimmy’s (Oliver Platt) financial woes, Sydney’s (Ayo Edebiri) opportunity to leave for another restaurant, and Carmen’s (Jeremy Allen White) disintegrating psychology en route to imploding his entire life, but the central question stays intact beyond changing that “How does” to “Should.”

While Ebraheim (Edwin Lee Gibson) appears to be finding the actual answer courtesy of the sandwich window’s solvency and a Rob Reiner cameo (I’m interested to see if he pops up in season five or if his tragic passing preceded filming), the main thrust of the plot concerns getting Carmy, Syd, and Richie’s (Ebon Moss-Bachrach) heads back in the game to discover if it matters. Like Computer (Brian Koppelman) asks Sugar (Abby Elliott), “Why keep going?”

That answer is of course the reason the show exists in the first place: the people. Sure, each of these misfits is mired in some form of emotional rut, but their ability to come together and provide a shoulder for each other (despite someone else in the restaurant potentially being the cause of their ire) is what makes this endeavor special. Can it get sentimental? Sure. But it’s never fake. No matter how clichéd the script might prove, the emotions are always real.

That’s why the back half of season four is on par with the heights of one and two. The first few episodes clean up the mess of season three with the introduction of familiar faces (the moment Carmy said “Expo is killing us” was the moment I knew Sarah Ramos and company would join the team). They remind us of the chaos, screaming, and parachutes left unopened before allowing the characters to find their footing and realize where each went wrong.

Finally, we get Carmy’s apology to Claire (Molly Gordon). Carmy’s apology to Syd. Carmy’s apology to Richie. Carmy has a lot to apologize for. But we also get Tiff (Gillian Jacobs) and Frank’s (Josh Harnett) wedding so Richie can get out of his head. We get Syd recognizing that The Bear is special not because of Carmy, but because of everyone else. And we even get Donna (Jamie Lee Curtis) and Uncle Lee (Bob Odenkirk) looking inwards to want to grow.

If season three was all about piling more mud on, season four is about digging out. It’s not easy. It’s not what every character might want. But it is right. While the final answer might superficially look like more escapism, it’s actually a lucid moment of clarity. Because sometimes running away means overstaying your welcome and leaving means adding by subtraction. Where complex truths tended to make everyone sour in this show, they now provide hope.

Don’t get me wrong. Carmen’s apologies are devastating and lead to even more screaming, but they hold much needed catharsis too. This whole show is about reconciling our penchant to shut down and retreat within ourselves when tragedy strikes with the cleansing power of love and community. How our vulnerability to share is crucial to healing by proving to ourselves that we aren’t alone. Maybe we didn’t do enough then, but we have time to do so now.

So, you do kind of need to treat seasons three and four as a single entity. Yes, you can condense the former to three episodes (so much redundancy) and latter to seven (excise the emotional baggage recap) to form a flawless season of television, but this is what we got instead: a flawed run-up and near-perfect landing. I’m honestly just glad the Faks returned to the periphery. I love Matty Matheson, but Neil Jeff is a supporting character, and his family are punch lines.

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L-R: John Mulaney as Stevie, Ayo Edebiri as Sydney Adamu, Brie Larson as Francie Fak, Molly Gordon as Claire, Jeremy Allen White as Carmen “Carmy” Berzatto, Ebon Moss-Bachrach as Richard “Richie” Jerimovich, Josh Hartnett as Frank, Matty Matheson as Neil Fak, Ricky Staffieri as Ted Fak and Lionel Boyce as Marcus in THE BEAR Season 4. Courtesy of FX Networks.