Good Grief, Carmy Berzatto
By Catherine Murphy
The Bear (2022)
There’s something about trauma that seems to inspire artists to create great works. People tend to see creativity and happiness as diametrically opposed. Even outside of the artistic realm, success is often linked to pain; the more you lose, the more you stand to gain. But this idea can create a self-fulfilling prophecy, one that keeps you stuck in your sadness, scared to reach for more. Nothing shows this struggle quite like The Bear (2022).
The Bear follows Carmen Bearzato (Jeremy Allen White) as he hopes to turn his flailing family restaurant into a Michelin-quality establishment. From his childhood, there seems to be a cloud that consumes Carmy every step of the way. When he is finally old enough, he breaks free of his family only to discover they’re not the sole source of his darkness. Even while he’s working at his dream job in New York, he can’t escape the torment from his head chef, a man who only works to further enforce Carmy’s mantra that suffering leads to success. It isn’t until the death of his brother Michael (Jon Bernthal) that he finds himself able to leave and return to his hometown of Chicago.
It’s this logic that forces Carmy to believe he’s unable to be happy at the risk that it might take away his success. There’s a belief that through his hardship, both in his personal and professional life, he’s earned his talent. You don’t get to be one of Food and Wine’sBest New Chefswithout being a little screwed up. It’s why he’s unable to commit fully to his relationship with Claire (Molly Gordon). When The Bear hosts its friends and family soft opening, Carmy is determined to make the night a success. But after one too many setbacks, he ends up trapped in the walk-in fridge and he begins to blame his relationship for his failure. His time with Claire, no matter how enjoyable, was simply a distraction, screaming at the other side of the freezer door that:
I don’t need to provide amusement or enjoyment. I don’t need to receive any amusement or enjoyment. I’m completely fine with that. Because no amount of good is worth how terrible this feels.
The Bear (2022)
But The Bear provides us with evidence that while struggle can lead to success, it doesn’t have to be masochistic. When Richie (Ebon Moss-Bachrach) is sent to another upscale restaurant for training, his task of cleaning each and every individual fork seems to be one designed to torture him. But on the contrary, this repetitive chore somehow illuminates a greater purpose for him. He begins to understand how to find purpose in his work. Richie returns to The Bear with a new goal. He understands that he derives joy from being able to give customers the best experience possible. Certainly, Richie has had a difficult time with his divorce, the estrangement from his child, and the death of his best friend, all within a quick succession leaving him in a dark place at the start of the series. And by season two, he hasn’t broken free entirely, but he’s found a way to channel his energy into something positive. He shows the difference between chaining yourself to your sadness and using it to propel you forward.
The Bear (2022)
Carmy sees his life as being anchored in his work; everything else is secondary, so when something interferes with that, it has to be eliminated. In the end, even his career becomes too much. By the end of season four, Carmy can recognize his pattern and realize that he’s used restaurant work to avoid his personal life. He’s made a habit of choosing the struggle of the kitchen over facing family trauma. He allows himself to leave The Bear behind with the faith that Sydney (Ayo Edebiri) and Richie can pursue their dream, the one he once shared, without it becoming all-consuming. While it can be important to find purpose in the hardships of life, it can also create an inability to accept goodness. If you’re convinced that your talent can only stem from sadness, you’ll continue to invite it into your life. But Carmy might just be ready to accept the light. Or at least face his darkness.
