The rise and fall of The Bear is an interesting case study in how television viewership has evolved in the post-Covid era. When the first season of Christopher Storer’s kitchen dramedy debuted in the summer of 2022, it was an inventive spin on the half-hour format that proved workplace shows could sustain themselves if the work in question was worthy of introspection. The Bear wasn’t just a grounded take on the inflammatory, chaotic backstage behind prestige restaurants, but a center point to showcase a group of compelling young actors. The first two seasons worked because it used cooking and restaurant management as a tool for its troubled characters to cope with their self-enforced expectations. The only legitimate criticism to be thrown at The Bear was that it wasn’t really a comedy, but that only attracted backlash when it competed at the Primetime Emmy Awards.
The Bear didn’t experience a massive decline in quality in the vein of Game of Thrones or Killing Eve, but rather a flattening. The third and fourth seasons were well-written and acted, but stagnant because its realism didn’t congeal with narrative momentum. Initial exposure to the cousins Carmy Berzatto (Jeremy Allen White) and Richie Jerimovich (Ebon Moss-Bachrach) suggested they were flawed men given a specific medium in which to succeed, but subsequent episodes showed they were too emotionally malnourished to be in any sort of leadership position. That White, Moss-Bachrach, and fellow co-stars Ayo Edebiri, Liza Colón-Zayas, and Abby Elliot were quickly picked up for other projects ensured that their yearly appearances on The Bear felt less exclusive. Even the series’ co-showrunner, Joanna Calo, had more ample room to flex her creative muscles when she penned the script for Thunderbolts*, the best of 2025’s superhero films.
It was in the best interests of FX and Hulu to drum up anticipation for the final season of The Bear, especially since the series hasn’t layered its strategy of dropping eight episodes at once. Weekly engagement is why certain shows generate discussion. However, the latest addition to The Bear universe is a standalone prequel episode called “Gary,” which debuted on streaming without any prior announcement. Set before the events of the first season, “Gary” is centered on a faithful trip between Richie and his cousin Mikey (Jon Bernthal), Carmy’s older brother, whose suicide is the inciting incident of the show.
The second season episode “Fishes” depicted a particularly harrowing Christmas in the Berzatto family, and “Gary” is set a few months later, when Richie’s suicidal ideation has become more apparent.
In “Gary,” Richie and Mikey bring a box to Indiana, where they spend a day touring the home city of Michael Jackson. It’s a rare moment where they’re free from the pressures of the kitchen. Richie’s marriage to Tiffany Jerimovich (Gillian Jacobs) seems healthy, but they’re already separated by the time that The Bear begins. Mikey’s vague comments about feeling the pressure of work aren’t just eerie when considering his suicide, but suspenseful because Carmy used similar language to describe himself at the end of season four.
The creative success of “Gary” is that it was convinced naturally by Moss-Bachrach and Bernthal, two actors who’ve now collaborated with each other five times. Although Bernthal was Moss-Bachrach’s understudy on the 2003 play Fifth of July, they later appeared in Lena Dunham’s Sharp Stick and Marvel’s The Punisher together, and currently star in Broadway’s Dog Day Afternoon. The Bear’s flashback episodes, while consistently some of the show’s best, are limited in what they can do because they have to point to direct events that have some bearing on the present. Comparatively, “Gary” is a day-in-the-life of two characters with a fascinating repertoire, performed by two actors who know each other’s ins and outs. “Gary” would feel like meditative meandering if it weren’t for the knowledge that it's among the last happy moments in Mikey’s life.
That “Gary” is a car crash waiting to happen isn’t a subtle metaphor, given that Mikey and Richie are stalled getting home when a freight train passes in front of their vehicle; the episode’s cliffhanger has a similar moment, set contemporaneously, in which a now completely isolated Richie has his car T-boned by another driver. “Gary” isn’t meant to be viewed as a standalone, and anyone watching it has the knowledge that Mikey is on the verge of an emotional breakdown, and that Richie will fail in his marriage to Tiffany, who’ll split with him shortly after their child is born. Yet, “Gary” doesn’t luxuriate in misery because it captures a moment between these two men that’s honest, if not completely happy. The characters on The Bear have multitudes, and it’s possible for a moment right before disaster to be joyful and unnerving. The conversations between Richie and Mikey as they recount childhood stories in “Gary” are entertaining because it's one of the last instances in which they’re free of consequences.
“Gary” is only tangentially related to the logline of The Bear, because a brief conversation between Richie and the waitress at a run-down diner is the only reminder that they all work in the restaurant business. That Storer created a world that could include something like “Gary” is a testament to his complex writing, but it’s also a signal that the core show has become bogged down by plot. If Richie’s potentially near-death experience at the end of “Gary” is any indication, the final season of The Bear will put Carmy in Mikey’s shoes, where he must balance familial loyalty with artistic ambition. “Gary” may end up being a masterclass in strategy on Storer’s part, but for now, it’s a welcome detour.