The next article comprises minor spoilers for Netflix’s Beef.
A lot has been made from the latest spate of cancellations over at Netflix, of latest authentic sequence that lots of people ostensibly care about. However which sequence, precisely? Uncoupled, the by-product Neil Patrick Harris-starring affluenza narrative centring on a wealthy (and annoying) homosexual man in Manhattan divorcing from his long-time husband? Oh no, we should be taking about Blockbuster, the oh so esteemed dramedy in regards to the film rental retailer that streaming caught a dagger in. There’ve been a handful of respectable new hits that bought the axe, the likes of German sci-fi thriller 1899, but it surely’s been a very long time since we bought a brand new Stranger Issues, a Home of Playing cards, or a Bojack Horseman. There’s one thing to be stated about giving new concepts an opportunity, but it surely’s not like Netflix has been taking out prize horses to shoot.
Thank god, then, for Steven Yeun — an evergreen assertion if I’ve ever seen it — and Beef, a Russian Doll-esque return to kind for the streamer’s authentic programming, and unequivocally the most effective new sequence they’ve launched since 2020’s Squid Recreation. Driving the welcome wave of latest Asian-American media rising over the past couple of years (suppose: the blissful Yeun-starring Oscar-nominee Minari, preceded by The Farewell, The Half of It, and Loopy Wealthy Asians), Beef is an creative drama-comedy from mega-hip studio A24, ten thirty-minute episodes spun from an incident of quintessentially L.A. street rage. What begins as a petty dispute explodes into an more and more violent rivalry, like a tornado ripping by a rundown motel, indiscriminately coughing out particles.
It is the story of two powder kegs, already primed to blow, slamming into each other. We start with Danny Cho (Yeun), a blue-collar Korean-American man with a brief fuse, the type who all the time appears to get a brief stick of it, the load of the world — and his mother and father’ hopes — on his shoulders. His adversary is Amy Lau (Ali Wong), his financial reverse, a wealthy woman with a type of Kardashian-style minimalist mansions who’s, however, deeply unhappy along with her lifetime of Riley. Her marriage simply is not hitting these days; after we uncover she’s not allowed entry to the gun protected, we presume it is for concern of suicide ideation, but it surely seems she’s developed a equally harmful pistol fetish.
That is much less the story of how a lot these two hate one another for a minor fender bender a lot as how they uncover, and latch onto, a foolish injustice as an outlet for his or her risky bitterness. They’re each hooked on the battle, one thing to interrupt up the banality of their day-to-day; it is a richly comedian premise, and one so common. Have not all of us imagined, in wealthy element, the visceral justice we would inflict on the fuckers who reduce us off in visitors, or stroll achingly slowly in entrance of us on Oxford Road, these direct-and-deliberate micro-attacks that do nothing lower than spoil our days — nay, our lives?
There’s an growing tendency on-line to shit on A24, the dominant dealer of socially acutely aware vibe-fests like Our bodies, Our bodies, Our bodies and Every little thing In all places All at As soon as, for its cooler-than-cool home model (there’s a bit of of Supreme-on-screen with them, it must be stated). However it’s laborious to tear them down after they’re routinely placing out works like Beef — the primary wagyu reduce served up within the Netflix steakhouse in an age. Lastly, some good fucking meals.
Beef is now streaming on Netflix.