I recently got through the entire show, and having had some time to digest the finale, one thing that seems quite clear to me is that the show is superficially about restaurants and the restaurant industry, especially in the first season. But as time went on – and I'd say, probably from season 3 onwards, it seems clear that the show also seems to be a commentary on the show itself – and by extension, about the TV industry itself.
There have been a lot of debates about whether The Bear is a comedy or drama, whether it's prestige or if it just uses good cameras, and whether the experimental, more artistic episodes, really 'fit' into the series, or if these were attempts to add unncessary gloss and flair. One of my favourite episodes is also the most controversial of these – S3E01. I was watching this with my wife, and she left the room half way through, saying that she was bored and that it wasn't really what she expected having loved the first two seasons. It wasn't that it was *bad* to her, but she said it was needlessly artsy, in a way that seemed to be seeking awards and validation from the TV industry itself, rather than to be enjoyed by a general audience who get 30 minutes or so to watch a show after they've put their kid to sleep.
Weirdly enough, her comments on s3e01 aren't too dissimilar to what's happening in the universe of the show itself. At this point, the restaurant goes from a down-to-earth sandwich shop to an exclusive, fine dining establishment, with The Beef being tacked onto The Bear, mostly to keep the fancier part of the restaurant running. There's some uncertainty about the direction the place is going, and whether Carmy is being needlessly artistic and too focussed on Michelin stars and validation, over the basic job of feeding the diners. As the seasons go on, I think this tension plays out more, with big overarching questions about whether Cicero really wants to keep funding the restaurant despite how successful it is (as a TV producer myself, ive worked on shows that have been v successful but got killed after a couple of years because monetarily it didn't make sense, according to guys that look and sound like Computer), what happens when people outgrow the shows they're on (JAW taking on larger, movie roles that conflicted with The Bear's shooting schedule I think), and the challenges of running the restaurant as expectations, internally and externally, become more demanding and near impossible to meet.
The thought really clicked at the end of the last season, as Ebra sets up The Beef as a franchise, not through family restaurants, but ghost kitchens – abstract, detached places in which a satisfactory product, designed to be quickly consumed, by people we'll never know and meet and never really grow a fondness for, but nevertheless goes to fund the higher quality material that get more attention and awards buzz. In some ways to me, it reflects the state of broadcasting, in which high quality programming relies on a mishmash of private funding and subsidies to get off the ground, and its survival is dependent on the continued, high volume production of slop designed to be scrolled past and watched passively. It's a reality that most people in the industry hate (similar to restauranteurs and ghost kitchens) but is nevertheless part of our economic reality.
Maybe i'm jumping the gun, but i wonder if any of you saw the show meta-textually upon a re-watch, or have thoughts on whether Storer et al. are making commentaries on the TV industry as a whole?