It's been a really long time since Netflix made a show this great.
Beef, a creative marriage between the streaming site and cult film production company A24, stars Steven Yeun and Ali Wong as two hopelessly lost adults who find purpose in their all-encompassing feud. Danny (Yeun), a failing contractor, and Amy (Wong), a self-made entrepreneur, meet one day in a road rage incident where the pair are one gas-stomp away from basically killing each other.
What ensues instead is a lawless boxing match between the two that gradually becomes a black hole vacuuming in everyone in their lives, as they try to knock each other out by any means necessary — no matter the collateral (or emotional) damage. But Danny and Amy's fight eventually places a microscope on their own lives, as we begin to understand what Beef is really trying to say, who these two people really are, and what happened in their lives to get them to that point of animosity.
The tone of Beef's first episode may have you thinking that you're in a for a dark comedy filled with gimmicks and knife-in-the-chest type one-liners, but the show is really working to evoke more profound themes: finding happiness and meaning in life, and whether or not it's OK to keep blaming our parents for how messed up we are.
Like the vivid paintings that open each of its episodes, Beef is a large canvas of two people with the not-so pleasant details of their lives excruciatingly enclosing around them — creating a stunning portrait of the cost of empathy and a story that'll linger with you long after its credits finish rolling.
Steven Yeun and Ali Wong's chemistry is show-stopping.
What makes Beef binge-worthy is the pure electricity radiating from Yeun and Wong's performances. They seamlessly transition from the necessary comic moments the show needs to breathe, to poignant confessions that'll have you crying, to absolute ferociousness that still invites empathy. What comes from their performance is a character chemistry unlike anything I've seen before, grounding Beef's whirlwind conflict and making it seem entirely plausible.
Danny and Amy may start out as foils, but they eventually become mirrors to each other, with Yeun and Wong infusing their evolution with so much authenticity and gravitas that they triumph over any other enemy-to-friends-then-back-to-enemy pipeline you've ever seen. The real charm of Beef is watching Danny and Amy's moments together, in between the fighting, where you'll feel like they're two magnets, turned on the same polar side, constantly resisting each other with a small fraction of distance that'll immediately close up as soon as one of them decides to flip over. And for the majority of Beef, you're begging one of them to finally flip.
These two know more about each other than the people they've known for years, and within that world of knowledge is grounds for either compassion or blackmail. Beef is an emotional journey that drives you through Danny and Amy's constant push and pull, where you'll find yourself shipping them, falling in love with them, and wanting so much more of them after the finale.
Beef is all about the choices we make.
As Yeun's character aptly says in Beef's last episode: "You're born. You make choices. Then suddenly you're here."
Beef explores the cost of two essential choices we've all been subject to in our own lives: our parents deciding to have a kid, and us deciding who we want to become. The duality of those two decisions informs a lot of the tension in Beef, with Danny and Amy's insecurities trickling down (or up) to their relationship with their parents. Amy's afraid of turning into her parents and repeating their mistakes. Danny's afraid of disappointing them and never being enough.
Beef unpacks the complexities of parental disappointment and realizes that no choice we ever make will completely satisfy those around us. The real answer is doing whatever the hell you want to do and hopefully finding someone one day who understands why you did it.
Who do we make choices for? When do we start making choices for ourselves? And what's the cost of our choices? These are the questions that string Beef's storytelling together, as we watch Danny and Amy grapple with everything that they've done, from that fateful road rage incident to the futures of their families. The show is by far Netflix's most unique endeavor and is easily comparable to HBO's caliber of shows. Relish its chaos. Relish Danny and Amy's game. And fall in love with them all the same.
