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Doubling Down: Season 1 of Beef

“So … you cheated on me because of your road rage?” / “I guess when you hear it all at once, yeah.”

The self-contained first season of Lee Sung Jin’s Beef is one of my favorite TV shows of the last few years.

The pitch is that two people—boutique small business owner Amy Lau (Ali Wong) and struggling contractor Danny Cho (Steven Yeun)—wind up in road rage chase that they then double and triple down on until the consequences feel like a localized apocalypse. But they get there one decision at a time, and everything in them and the people around them factors in. At its best—and roughly eight and a half episodes out of the ten are the show at its best—this is a pacy, funny, weird, and darkly engaging half-hour drama that I recommend to pretty much everyone.

I’ll get the caveats out of the way first. In the eighth episode, the show makes the mistake of including flashbacks that mostly only underline characterization details we’ve already established: Amy feels unlovable and is terrified of revealing her true self to anyone, and Danny has a toxic need to be needed. The flashbacks are such a needlessly navel-gazing speed bump to some otherwise joyously escalating storytelling that I even resent that there is one plot-relevant incident buried in them, one that plays too major a role to be seeded in so late and so inorganically. But, crucially, that’s only about half of the episode, and the present-day section is close to wall-to-wall major decisions and breakneck choices.

The other episode I marked out as an exception is the finale, and it’s harder to classify. In many ways, it’s a beautiful send-off, with an especially memorable final image. But it’s a conclusion to the show’s ideas, not to its story. All throughout Beef, it’s easy to see that despite all the surface-level differences—and all the bad blood—between them, Amy and Danny are alike beneath the skin. The first episode even emphasizes this with a laugh-out-loud needle drop of Hoobastank’s “The Reason” as these two fucked-up people zero in on how their enmity offers them the chance for all the heedless, untrammeled awfulness they’d otherwise have to hide. Their missed connection is the bleak, bittersweet heart here, and I understand why the finale wants to finally trap them in a situation where there’s nowhere to go and nothing to do but (eventually, painfully) understand and empathize. Taken on the heels of the ecstatic, doomed ending of the episode before it, it’s a contemporary dramedy version of Tolkien’s eucatastrophe: what if grace intervened to bail them out?

But a narrowly averted total disaster is the kind of story it’s hard to tell well. It’s a shape no one (except maybe Tolkien) has ever gotten much of a hand on, and honestly, it may need a more heightened register—a religious influence, explicit or implicit—to sell it, because it depends on the fact that everything until then tended toward a different outcome. It ought to be a legitimate function of art to explore relief and rescue, especially with the reasonable honesty this finale opts for, where a whole lot remains thoroughly fucked, but I suspect this last episode will only work for viewers on a case-by-case basis. Some—including me, at least sometimes—will argue the ninth episode is the natural ending. It works perfectly well on that front.

Overall, though, this works like gangbusters. The story has the speed of a thriller and the density of a mystery where the most innocuous details, like Danny’s love of Skittles, eventually take on huge importance. (This is more recommendation than essay, so I’m loath to get into specifics.) It remembers one of my favorite dramatic truisms and gives its supporting cast minds and drives of their own, so—as only one example—Danny can’t call off a robbery once he’s already looped two boneheaded would-be henchmen in on it. Nothing is simple and clean in a world with real people accumulating real damage.

That also lets characters get introduced as more flatly comedic and then pick up dramatic weight as the story moves along. Danny’s younger brother, Paul (Young Mazino), starts off as a cool but sullen twenty-something and becomes a major linchpin of the plot (and one who cares all too much). Amy’s husband, George (Joseph Lee), is the kind of willfully optimistic sweetheart who, when finding out a rogue contractor has pissed all over his bathroom, tries to be understanding even as he’s on his hands and knees scrubbing it up: “You never know what someone’s going through in life. Might be bladder issues.” He lives in the shadow of his father, a famous designer who left behind an artistic legacy that George, who makes globby, inconveniently shaped vases the color of melted sprinkles, can’t equal, and George’s vases starts off as a joke—one more thing Amy grits her teeth to be nice about—and then play an unexpectedly poignant role in connecting him with Danny, who honestly does like them. (Lee plays the whole scene as someone who on some level knows he’s been loved before but never taken seriously.)

I tend to call this a drama rather than a comedy because its purpose—again, until that last episode—is primarily about an escalating, angry tragedy, but it’s also hilarious: the ninth episode alone provides maybe the best punchline ever about an Amber Alert, people singing “Pop Goes the Weasel” while frantically providing choking instructions, and an absolutely brutal death that nonetheless has me hooting and hollering every time. The two best comedic forces here are the aforementioned George (“I can’t even enjoy anything vanilla since her comment,” he says, trying to process Amy’s dismissal of their sex life) and Danny’s scene-stealing cousin Isaac (David Choe), a constantly hustling criminal prone to both intimacy and grandiosity (“Give me a front hug. None of that side hug shit. Tip to tip”).

But I do think the best moments are the dramatic ones, like the ownage-filled intercutting montage at the end of the sixth episode, when Danny makes a gleefully ruthless decision that neatly ties off a lot of dangling plot threads that could have stitched him up for good. I agree that we’re all broken and should try to connect with each other in our brokenness, but sometimes—as Danny and Amy know—what you really want to do is watch things burn. And that can bring us together too.