However, Beef is such an exceptional and nuanced exploration of the innate rage inside us and how that one incident finally unleashed a deluge of anger from within the characters that watching ten episodes of a feud raging on and on produced intense thought provoking television viewing. That’s what makes this show phenomenal; it doesn’t merely depict a road rage incident and its fallout. Instead it shows how one incident can cripple and damage every aspect of one’s life and even recalls and brings forth past trauma, grief and anger. With exceptional performances, the aforementioned nuance and breadth of its exploration of rage, as well as a sense of compassion and empathy that is touching and rarely seen, Beef is an immensely rewarding effort.
I think a fair statement to make would be that without the talent of Steven Yeun and Ali Wong, the show would not be nearly as successful. They do what great actors are supposed to do and so much more. Their feud is fantastic; watching them bickering and attempting to one up each other is of course entertaining. But where they both really excel is in their individual character moments as Danny and Amy, specifically in how much humanity and relatability they imbue them with, despite their inherent and quite extensive flaws. Another lesser actor could easily succumb to cliche when performing in some of these scenes, acting more like a one-note depiction of people who complain perpetually and nothing more. Luckily, that’s not what we get here. Instead, with Yeun, the audience is treated with a performance that revels in the pangs of regret and exhaustion with one’s life problems, as well as his rare moments of clarity which convey that we can all be fundamentally decent people if we confront our grief and trauma.
A standout scene in the series pertains to Danny attending a Korean-American Church where he experiences an unexpected catharsis. It is a simple, yet poignant encapsulation of the inner complexity that Yeun brings to the role, as Danny begins to vehemently break down in tears while a band sings about forgiveness. It is among one of the most arresting, emotionally rewarding scenes I’ve ever encountered. Wong as Amy is just as good as Yeun and again, we are treated with a complex depiction of a character who could have so easily been a trite, wealthy and unrelatable careerist. Amy makes some truly insane decisions throughout the show that infuriates the audience and then suddenly, we see glimpses into her life that makes us care for her. To conclude, both actors deliver standout work by embodying their characters to the fullest extent.
Almost immediately, it became clear that Beef would tap into other sub themes, utilizing the initial road rage (an undeniably relatable, hilarious and brilliantly shot opening sequence) as a catalyst by which to explore other facets of rage, its consequences and its potential origins in Danny and Amy. This is again, to the benefit of a show which, if it decided to merely be about people one upping each other, would be pretty uninspired and monotonous. Throughout the show, we learn of past actions and conflicts pertaining to Danny and Amy that certainly have bearing on the present. I won’t spoil what developments I’m referring to, but needless to say, the show is all the better for it, increasing the script’s intensity and suspense, as well as its thematic complexity.
Perhaps the best thing about Beef is that at the pinnacle of violence and massacre that has ensued throughout the series, the audience is treated to a finale which focuses in depth on the inherent similarities between its two central characters, Danny and Amy. This results in a series of long sequences, all masterfully acted and shot, that are broadly philosophical and existential in nature, under circumstances that allow Danny and Amy to bond. After all they’ve been through, they recognize themselves in each other and so the series ends in a heartwarming, empathetic manner. In a way, I almost hope that there isn’t a second season because the ending is so perfect that I would hate to see Danny and Amy descend back into another feud. Regardless, there is no doubt in my mind that the finale of the show, amongst the best of the series, truly gives it the compassionate slant it was heading for all along.
Beef is a series that I certainly won’t ever forget. The fact that a Netflix production managed to explore a relatively mainstream premise with such depth all while exploring the comedy, tragedy and action of a feud is nothing short of incredible. I hope that this leads to streaming services producing more projects of this nature, which can satisfy both those looking for some action and fun, as well as those who want to be rewarded by more thematically engaging and complex projects. I also look forward to seeing both Yeun and Wong on screen more often. They truly deserve the spotlight for their fantastic performances.
Most importantly, I hope that people can learn from this series, which captures the unfortunate yet very timely sense of rage and explosive violence pervading the world these days. Only by reaching deeply into the dark depths of their souls do Danny and Amy manage to realize and come to terms with the damage that they have done. Through this transformation they show us the corrosive effects of violence and the unintended effects of rage, not just on ourselves, but on those around us. Perhaps witnessing the journeys of characters like Danny and Amy can remind us to stop and think before we respond with anger or violence, as well as the need to prioritize living in harmony with one nature and with each other. As with Danny and Amy, sometimes it takes an honest look at the darker sides of one's persona to become enlightened to that fact. The last episode of the series, Figures of Light, prominently asserts:
“One does not become enlightened by imagining figures of light, but by making the darkness conscious.”
― C.G. Jung