The Best Episodes of ‘The Bear’

When The Bear lumbered onto the TV scene back in 2022, it was a quick critical favorite but, mass market-wise, more of a grower than a shower. It took word-of-mouth, awards nods, and end-of-year best-of lists for the show to really garner a fandom, but three years and four seasons later, the show is firmly one of television’s most talked about, airing not just on Hulu but also on FX.

While some of that chatter has sprouted because of viral moments like Jeremy Allen White’s Calvin Klein campaign and Ayo Edebiri’s ongoing love affair with her adopted homeland of Ireland, in general, people seem to just really like talking about The Bear’s storytelling, and for good reason. Few pieces of media have captured the restaurant world as well as creator Christopher Storer has, and each season seems to have some sort of tantalizing twist or shoe drop moment that keeps viewers speculating. (What does the Trib review say? Will Sydney quit? And what left-field guest star will show up next?)

It doesn’t hurt that, overall, The Bear is a little bit like Chicago tavern-style pizza: Even the worst bits of it are still pretty damn good. While there have certainly been low points in The Bear’s run, like season three’s almost unbearably tense vibe and the sudden introduction of John Cena as an ancillary character, they’ve generally been counterbalanced with awe-inspiring highs. The Bear makes episodes that hit home hard, eliciting tears and warmth and empathy in a way that we don’t often see on shows that air (eventually) on basic cable. Whether you see yourself in Richie, Carmy, Tina, or Syd, The Bear is the kind of show that’ll make you want to be a better person while still reminding you that it’s okay to be a little bit broken, too.

If The Bear has a low point, it’s its third season, which somehow felt both overstuffed and hollow. Its premiere episode, “Tomorrow,” sets the viewer up to watch Carmy in flashbacks, spending time on the line at 11 Madison Park, tooling around Noma, and learning from legendary chefs Thomas Keller and Daniel Boulud. It’s all very beautiful and sensuous and interesting, but in terms of storytelling, it’s a bit of a dud. Bear fans come into each new season stoked to see what’s going to happen next and while you’ve got to admire the show for pulling off these shoots, ultimately, “Tomorrow” just feels unnecessary.

Photo: FX

In a show steeped in tense moments and unspoken apologies, “Next” somehow stands alone for just how tense it feels. Happening the morning after Carmy’s fridge incident at The Bear’s friends and family dinner, “Next” has so many “no, fuck you!” undertones and so much out and out aggression that it’s almost hard to watch. There are parts that are charming, like the opening that pays tribute to Chicago’s early-rising blue collar workers at spots like the Vienna Beef factory and Kasia’s Pierogi, but it’s clear in this episode that Carmy’s gone off the self-immolating deep end and that, for the rest of the season, viewers’ll be in for a bumpy ride.

The Bear has almost always been able to make great use of its guest stars, from recurring figures like Jon Bernthal and Jamie Lee Curtis to occasional surprise players like Bob Odenkirk and Brie Larson. The lone exception is what it did with John Cena in season three’s “Children,” where the genuinely very funny Peacemaker star plays Sammy Fak, an egregiously over-the-top member of the Fak clan (which is saying something) obsessed with “haunting” his brother Teddy. You get what Cena and the Bear crew were going for with this role and everything, with the big guy producing big, big, big energy, but it feels like the show tried to figure out how to get Cena into the show rather than going after him for an already-written role and unfortunately, the tone doesn’t work.

Another case of “just because you can doesn’t mean you should,” “Forever” finds Carmy and crew hanging out at the funeral dinner for Chef Andrea Terry’s soon-to-close spot. While there are certainly high points to this episode, like Olivia Colman’s portrayal of Terry and pretty much any time Richie’s hanging out with the gang in the kitchen, Carmy’s capital-O obsession with Joel McHale’s Chef David Fields feels like it goes too far. We’ve known since practically the beginning of The Bear that Fields is a charlatan and a dick who took every opportunity to traumatize Carmy in the kitchen, so having to watch it over and over and over again just feels cruel, even to the viewer.

A mid-season episode from the show’s worst season, “Legacy” does what it’s meant to and moves the story along, introducing Shapiro’s job offer to Syd, the streamlining of the beef window, and the start of Natalie’s labor. You even meet another Fak, Uncle Gary, though he comes in hot with more nonsense about “haunting,” so it’s really just kind of a mixed bag.

Another perfectly acceptable episode, “Bolognese” comes 10 days before The Bear officially opens. The restaurant is struggling to pass its fire suppression test, leading to Neil’s funny and/or offensive realization of how Mikey caused the problem, and both Richie and Marcus return to the restaurant after their time spent elsewhere in the restaurant world. Later, Syd criticizes Carmy for the time he’s spending with Claire, ultimately setting the table for his fridge-based explosion just two episodes later.

Photo: FX

A pretty solid Bear episode all things considered, “Sophie” finds Syd racing to the hospital in the wake of her father’s heart attack only to meet up with Claire, whom she hadn’t known very well before. Claire gets Syd information about her dad’s condition, leading to a lovely and tearful father-daughter reunion later in the episode, but the episodes weak points come through both Rob Reiner’s portrayal of angel investor Albert Schnurr, who you don’t know if you can trust at this point, and Sugar’s off-the-rails rant about Francie, which any regular viewer has already heard more than a few times by that point in the series.

A one-off episode about how Tina came to work at The Bear, “Napkins” is a nice-enough look at the backstory of one of the show’s most centered characters, but it doesn’t really tell us all that much that we didn’t already know. It’s more painful than funny to watch Tina be turned away by young, elitist assholes at every job she applies to before she stumbles onto Mikey at The Bear, and you leave the episode more angry at the injustices done to middle-aged, high school educated women than you are proud of Tina for having risen above it all.

The first somewhat Sydney-centric episode of The Bear, “Sheridan” alludes to the failures that led the beloved newbie chef to land at The Beef while also celebrating her versatility and resourcefulness. She’s able to pull off a parking lot BBQ to pay the bills after Marcus blows up the electrical system trying to hurry through his baking tasks, though the majority of the $5,000 fridge condenser replacement costs come through a back alley coke deal Richie makes, a move that feels too far afield for someone who just lost his best friend to substance abuse and depression.

Kate Berlant is a great actor and a great comedian and her one-woman show, Kate, was perfect. She is not, however, a great guest star for The Bear. She opens “Replicants” with a long, mostly serious monologue at an Al-Anon meeting Carmy’s attending and since she’s typically so off-the-wall and full of wink-wink sarcasm, it just feels like you’re waiting for a punchline to the speech that just never comes. It’s distracting, and while there are other parts of the episode that are charming, like baby Sophie’s arrival at The Bear and the return of Luca, it sets the episode off on a slightly off-kilter foot from which it never really recovers.

Claire and Carmy set off on a road trip to some post office box in the burbs this episode, making much of the episode about their burgeoning love story. They finally kiss after hanging out at a house party with Claire’s roommate Kelly (Mitra Jouhari) and while you do actually buy that there’s some sort of cosmic, spiritual connection between Carmy and Claire, it also feels like this episode only serves as a reminder that until Carmy can get his shit together, you’re always going to be waiting for the other shoe to drop with their love story.

Photo: Chuck Hodes/FX

The process of turning The Beef into The Bear is in full-swing and the gang is dealing with the realities of a long-overdue renovation. There’s menu-planning and the introduction of Carmy and Syd’s sweet but slightly cringe “I’m sorry” signal, and the episode ends with Carmy running into longtime crush Claire in the frozen food aisle at the store. Molly Gordon’s effervescent Claire is lovely and, honestly, perfect for heavy, brooding Carmy, but their meeting can also come off as a little too Garden State for some, with the pair’s Manic Pixie Relationship teetering just on the line of being overly saccharine.

Though “Hands” is an essential episode in setting up the lore of The Bear, with Richie finding Mikey’s hidden note to Carmy, the introduction of Cicero, and some health inspector hijinks, it’s one of those Bear episodes that’s good but not great. Perhaps it’s the episode’s introduction of Joel McHale’s creepy Chef Fields but something just feels less-than with “Hands” in a way that’s hard to quantify.

If there’s a quibble to be had with “Green,” it’s that its opening sequence—a big, dramatic dream series featuring Sydney as a much too high-brow cooking show host that ends up bathed in rain before she swaps outfits and runs through the Chicago Theatre—doesn’t really ever pay off. That’s not to say it won’t in a future season. The Bear has pulled out more than a few multi-season callbacks, but in this case, the sequence feels more like something that the show wanted to do, production-wise, rather than needed to do, story-wise.

Carmen’s a real piece of shit in “Apologies,” ignoring pretty much everything Syd tries to tell him, all her suggestions about the restaurant, and pretty much everything else good in his life. It’s shitty and annoying, especially considering he’s essentially been that way all of season three, and as a viewer, you just feel like shouting “enough!” at the screen. There’s a cool sequence at the beginning of the episode where the late, great Ricky J talks about magic, though, so you can go ahead and let that act as a balm.

It’s always hard to watch people at The Bear struggle. How hard you find it could depend on your personality as a viewer, but personally, I struggle with watching eggs break and cups spill and well-meaning workers get into the weeds. This ep, that’s what’s happening with Ebra, who’s trying his hardest at the beef window but whose skills just aren’t cutting it. Bonus points this episode go to Josh Hartnett, who pops up as Tiffany’s intended Frank, but affable charm doesn’t quite elevate “Violet” to The Bear’s heights.

Photo: FX

“Soubise” finds The Bear starting to circle the proverbial drain in the wake of the Trib’s middling review. The staff has neither the money to pay their produce bills nor the motivation to really do A+ work every night and it’s just a little sad to watch. Cap that “oh no” off with the fact that Tina has to remind Carmy that he still hasn’t been to see his only sister’s brand new baby daughter and it’s enough to make you want to curl up somewhere and heave a long, deep sigh.

Season two’s “Omelette” opens well enough, with some morning sex set to NIN’s “The Day The World Went Away” but it’s clear whatever Carmy has going on with Claire is in peril. He’s dodging her calls and seems to be backing out of the relationship when he talks to Syd, all of which indicate that things are headed south in Carmyland. The episode ends with doors opening for friends and family night, which is great, but this episode is more of an appetizer teasing the season two finale than a whole meal on its own.

Never let it be said that Mikey Berzatto couldn’t tell a good story. “Ceres” introduces Jon Bernthal as Carmy’s late brother, who apparently liked to drink and party and get into a good bit of trouble with Richie around Chicago. “Ceres” is lovely if you’ve spent any time in Chicago, with Richie’s struggles with the mob guys hanging out around the restaurant and the chat he has with Syd about how the area around the restaurant is changing, but if you know where The Original Beef is in Chicago, you know that River North is an area that’s been capital-G gentrified for decades. (There are absolutely not made men hanging out on every corner, to say the least.) Also, considering that The Beef suddenly sells both risotto and hot dogs, you could argue that Richie and his crew are, at least in part, somewhat responsible for whatever shift he sees occurring. The dissonance makes “Ceres” land with just the slightest of thuds, because, really, otherwise, it is quite a good episode.

Another pretty damn solid episode, “Scallop” falters only because it maybe leans a little too far into the “dream weaving” category. Rob Reiner appears, as if from nowhere, as a heroic angel investor who seems heaven sent to help Ebraheim save The Bear. His Albert Schnurr is nice enough but hard to get a vibe on at first, making viewers think he might be there for nefarious purposes. Meanwhile, inside The Bear, Richie goes all-out to wow a group of tourists from California who want to see snow in Chicago. It’s fun to watch, if a bit ridiculous, but what takes it to “oh, come on” territory is the fact that it all goes down in front of a mysterious “Mr. Clark,” who the show clearly wants you to believe is eventually going to throw the spot some sort of coveted Michelin nod. Not even The Bear can be that lucky.

A relentless, loud, slog through a month of service at The Bear, “Doors” is a marvel. It’s a technically excellent episode, to be sure, but it’s also damn near impossible to watch. It’s not that the episode fails in getting its point across. It’s just that the point is that working at The Bear is so fucking tense that you feel like you want to claw your skin off even just watching the episode at home. In short: Love the episode, hate the feeling.

Photo: Matt Dinerstein/FX

An almost too cute episode of The Bear, “Dogs” expects us to believe that somehow a whole bottle of Xanax spilled into a cooler of homemade Ecto-Cooler at Cicero’s kid’s birthday party and no one really cared. Nice try, The Bear. Call us when you’ve been to a few more PTA meetings.

A formative episode in The Bear’s first season, “Brigade” opens with Molly Ringwald giving a poignant speech at Carmy’s Al-Anon meeting, waxing wise about how you can’t curb chaos until something foundational changes, a message that you really wish Carmy would have taken to heart a little bit earlier than he did.

Opening with Carmy pitching the idea of The Bear to Mikey, “Groundhogs” comes in the wake of the Chicago Tribune’s so-so Bear review. That means a lot of waffling and excuse-making as the gang trickles back into the restaurant’s kitchen over the course of the whole episode. That sort of “Hey guys! What’s up?” set piece is a trope the show has played on more than a few times over its run, including in the season four finale, and while it’s always pretty funny, with Neil and whoever else coming in at the most inopportune times, it’s probably something the show can ease up on in future seasons.

In “Fishes,” which you’ll find later on this list, Donna Berzatto had a huge booze-and-sadness fueled blow-up and ruined Christmas dinner. In the years that followed, Carmy avoided his mom like the plague, even when he moved back to Chicago. “Tonnato” comes after he runs into her at Frank and Tiffany’s wedding, when he’s essentially guilted into running a box of old photos back to his childhood home. It leads to a nice back and forth between Jeremy Allen White’s Carmy and Jamie Lee Curtis’s Donna (three name club!), including an admission from Donna that she’s been wrong, done wrong, and feels that she’s failed at being a parent. It’s a little hard to watch but it’s important, and Curtis shines as always as the manic and eccentric Berzatto family matriarch.

Everyone knows The Bear won’t run forever, but it’s still kind of shitty to be reminded of that fact. In the season four finale, “Goodbye,” we learn that Carmy plans on leaving the restaurant once he “sets it up for success,” whatever that is. That essentially puts a clock on Jeremy Allen White’s participation on the show and while there’s no reason to doubt that the show should be able to push forward even without him, it also feels like it backs The Bear into a corner a little bit. As a viewer, you want Carmy to get better and find himself and you want Syd, Richie, and Sugar to succeed on their own terms, but that still doesn’t mean it’s not sad to watch all the same.

Photo: Chuck Hodes/FX

If season one of The Bear was about turning a ramshackle, struggling Italian Beef spot into something bigger, the season two premiere—aptly titled “Beef”—is about where The Bear can go next. A masterclass in storytelling, “Beef” weaves together Marcus’s relationship with his sick mom, Sydney and Tina’s burgeoning culinary partnership, and Cicero’s big, clock-setting investment in the whole shebang. It’s Ebon Ross-Bacharach’s Richie who really makes “Beef” sing, though, with his heartfelt admission that he wants to find his purpose, not just at The Beef but also in life. Long live Richie Jerimovich!

You know “Worms” is going to be special when you see who’s involved: The episode was written by Ayo Edebiri and Lionel Boyce and directed by Zola writer-director Janicza Bravo, and it features guest star Danielle Deadwyler, who plays Sydney’s longtime friend and hairdresser Chantel. There are some super cringe Shapiro scenes in the beginning of the episode but they serve a purpose, and “Worms” really takes off when Syd arrives at Chantel’s house where she’s sort of strong-armed into spending the day with her buddy’s 13-year-old daughter, TJ. Their bonding is sweet and it’s clear that, just as Sydney helps TJ navigate her social life and get something solid to eat, TJ is helping Sydney work through her own issues—albeit in her own, eye-rolling, teenaged way. The Bear has always done one-off episodes like this well, and “Worms” is no exception.

If you like guest stars on The Bear, then boy will you like “Bears.” Set at the wedding of Frank and Tiffany, “Bears” finds the whole Berzatto family together again. With appearances from Gillian Jacobs, Josh Hartnett, Bob Odenkirk, Sarah Paulson, John Mulaney, Jamie Lee Curtis, and even Brie Larson as the long discussed but never seen Francie Fak, “Bears” is just plain fun. There’s heart to the story, with Carmy making peace with Odenkirk’s Uncle Lee and, later, almost every single cast member coming together under a table with Richie’s daughter Eva to talk about fears. There’s also joy, with Richie telling Cicero he thinks he’s finally found his purpose in life and Sugar and Francie mending their fraught friendship. If only all weddings were this charming.

“Braciole” is everything that’s great about The Bear. First, the language: In this episode, you get Carmy delivering a massive monologue at Al-Anon that’s just breathtaking, talking about how he “always thought [his] brother was [his] best friend,” only to find out that “everybody thought he was their best friend.” Then you get Richie’s handing over of Mikey’s secret note to Carmy, which just says “I love you dude. Let it rip,” and points Carmy toward a seemingly simple spaghetti recipe to make for family dinner. Then, the drama: When Carmy goes to make the dish, he finds that Mikey has somehow squirrelled away $300,000 in cash, which he’d had Cicero loan him. It’s a messy, ebullient discovery, and it’s all heart. “Braciole” is The Bear at its near best, and it’s spectacular.

A master class in how best to use a pilot to introduce a show, “System” sets The Bear off with a bang. It doesn’t just introduce the characters and the show’s setting. It introduces the sound of the show, the language of the show, and the pace. When you watch that episode, you’re instantly submerged into what The Bear is, was, and will be, and that’s how you make a motherfucking pilot. There’s no way every other person working in Hollywood didn’t hear about The Bear, watch that episode, then sit up and take note.

Photo: Chuck Hodes/FX

While The Bear has always been about its core cast, it’s taken time twice a season or so to also pay tribute to its location and the industry in which The Bear is supposed to reside. “Sundae” is one of those instances, with Carmy suggesting he and Syd head out into the Chicago food scene to reset their palates, only to end up ditching her. Syd perseveres, though, and watching her eat the very best food that Chicago has to offer is awe-inspiring. It’s clear the show takes special care to stage these episodes, dipping into high-end restaurants and tried-and-true mom and pops alike. If you know Chicago, if you’ve worked in a restaurant, or even if you simply like to occasionally eat with your eyes, “Sundae” feels like a singular treat.

Here’s the truth: About a billion TV shows have tried to show what it’s actually like to birth a goddamn baby and very, very few have succeeded. Not only did The Bear succeed with “Ice Chips,” but it also managed to somehow shoehorn incredibly amazing storytelling into the whole wildly painful looking experience. With just two cast members on-screen most of the time—Abby Elliott and Jamie Lee Curtis—”Ice Chips” still manages to feel full and vibrant, important and deep. Watch it and then call your mom to apologize.

Like “Worms” and “Napkins,” “Honeydew” is about the journey of a singular Bear staffer. In this case it’s Lionel Boyce’s Marcus, who Carmy and Syd have sent off to Copenhagen to stage with Carmy’s old Ever buddy, Luca (Will Poulter). The episode is beautifully directed by Ramy Youssef, with long shots of Marcus ambling through the dark streets of Denmark at night and diving into all manner of new and interesting flavors. There are fun musical cues, like National Lampoon European Vacation’s “Holiday Road,” and it’s inspiring to watch Marcus come into his own strength and vision as a pastry chef. Pretty good for a guy who Mikey hired straight out of McDonald’s.

It’s almost a misnomer to call what happens in “The Bear” “friends and family night.” Sure, the dining room is full of sympathetic friends and backers, but Carmy, Syd, and the rest of The Beef gang still seem to be shitting bricks, perhaps too afraid of failure to really let their vision soar. The second the group gets into the proverbial weeds in the kitchen everything goes to hell, with Carmy mistakenly thinking he sees his old nemesis Chef Fields in the corner of the dining room and then getting stuck in the lock-in fridge.

That’s where shit really hits the fan, with Carmy essentially turning into a caged bull, screaming and thrashing around the refrigerator while also spiraling dangerously down toward his absolute rock bottom. White’s performance as Carmy alone would be enough to make “The Bear” great, especially when you consider the self-loathing speech he unknowingly gives to his (soon to be ex-) girlfriend Claire, but really, “The Bear” works because everyone works this episode, from Moss-Bacharach’s Richie, who steps in to run expo like an absolute G to Uncle Cicero, who practically tears up when he receives a surprise chocolate banana for dessert. Pearl Jam’s “Animal” sets the musical stage perfectly, putting a fine point on just how great “The Bear” (and, for that matter, The Bear) really is.

If there’s a legendary Bear episode it’s “Fishes,” which surprised audiences with a cavalcade of guest stars. Paulson and Mulaney play cousin Michelle and husband Stevie, respectively, and Odenkirk and Jacobs clock in as Uncle Lee and Tiffany. “Fishes” also marks the introduction of Curtis as Donna “Deedee” Berzatto, a character so scattered, dynamic, and leathery that she seems both broken and terrifying. Given that it’s a flashback, Bernthal’s Mikey is back, too, bringing even more loose cannon energy to the whole proceedings.

“Fishes” is a powder keg pretty much from the beginning, with Sugar stressing out so hard that she’s practically cowering outside when the episode starts. If you think being inside The Bear is anxiety inducing, the Berzatto house at Christmas is 10 times worse, with twice as many personalities and 10 times more alcohol. Everyone’s teetering on a razor’s edge the whole time until, right as dinner begins, Uncle Lee and Mikey really start going at each other. Everyone stares like they’re about to see a car wreck — and then they actually do as Donna enters the room, freaks the fuck out on everyone, then takes off, only to then drive her car through the living room wall.

As an episode, “Fishes” isn’t just fun to watch — it’s also informative about each and every character on-screen. Watching Neil interact with Stevie, you learn his dynamic in the family. When Pete shows up with a tuna noodle casserole to contribute to the seven fishes table, you not only see the shit every single character spews at him, but also the good-natured background that led him to want to bring that casserole in the first place. It’s easy to see why Carmy’s broken because he was raised as the Berzatto baby, Sugar’s the peacemaker, and Mikey’s the substitute dad who never asked to carry the world on his shoulders. In order to see where we’re going—whether in real life or on TV—it helps to know where we’ve been, and with “Fishes,” The Bear showed us all its map.

Photo: Photo: Matt Dinerstein/Copyright 2022, FX Networks. All rights reserved.

There’s a lot to like about season one’s “Review,” and it starts at  the beginning, with the late, great WXRT DJ Lin Brehmer waxing rhapsodic about his city before introducing Sufjan Stevens’ “Chicago.” A beautiful cinematic tribute to the city follows, with beauty shots of buildings and restaurants and if you know anything about the city or have spent any time there—or in any sizable midwestern city, really—you’ll walk away with tears in your eyes.

It only gets better from there, as we enter the Beef to discover that not only has the Tribune written a piece on the evolution of the beloved shabby beef shack, but also that it’s the first day for the restaurant’s new online ordering system. When they turn the ordering tablet on, though, they discover that Syd—who set the system up—left the “preorder” function on all night, meaning hundreds of people have ordered food that they expect to receive ASAP. What was a pretty chill experience turns devilishly intense almost instantly, with Carmy screaming at the staff to fire every single piece of food they have in house, Richie somehow getting stabbed in the butt after a verbal scuffle with Syd, and Marcus being so checked out of what’s happening that he doesn’t even realize all hell has broken loose.

All of this madness is perfectly set to both the omnipresent whirr of the online order printer and, simultaneously, Wilco’s “Spiders (Kidsmoke).” The episode is also a one-shot wonder, making it even more technically marvelous. It’s simply a perfect episode of TV, period. No notes.

The only episode of The Bear that’s arguably better than “Review” is season two’s “Forks,” which finds Richie begrudgingly clocking in to stage at Chef Andrea Terry’s Ever. He has a rough go at first, spending entire shifts just poorly shining fork after fork after fork, but after a “come to Jesus” moment with Garrett, one of the front of house staff, he starts to see the forest for the trees. He might still think that Carmy sent him to Ever as some sort of cruel joke, but he’s determined to come out better. When the restaurant goes out of its way to serve some out-of-town diner authentic Chicago deep dish (courtesy of a Richie run to Pequod’s), it’s like you can see some sort of switch turn over in his head. This is Richie 2.0, better, stronger, and more in touch with those around him.

And Richie’s transformation is infectious. You watch him sing along to Taylor Swift’s “Love Story” in his speeding car and you want to sing along to “Love Story” coming home too late from work some night. You watch him excel at his job and you want to kill it just as much as he does. As viewers, we’ve been rooting for Richie since minute one of the pilot, whether we knew it or not, and watching him find his place in the world—and, essentially, at The Bear—just feels magical.

And if that wasn’t enough, you’ve got Olivia Colman popping up out of the blue as the magical, serene Chef Andrea Terry, who makes those around her better just by being herself. Richie meets her while she’s peeling mushrooms and they chat, quietly, about military dads and how it’s never too old to start over and you instantly want her to be both your mom and your boss and your best friend.

“Forks” is The Bear at its best and most optimistic, as it somehow mixes a reverence for hard work and spectacular surprises with gruff grunts and a sharply knotted tie. If Carmy’s the face of The Bear, Richie is the soul and with “Forks,” we’re reminded that we can all be better, somehow, if only we remember that, from here on out, every second really does count.