Created and written by Lee Sung Jin
Production companies A24
Rating: ★★★★★

There is something profoundly honest in the way this series portrays the quiet yet devastating reach of untreated mental health struggles into everyday life. It lingers in the raw complexities of anger, depression, anxiety, and the existential questions that surface when we begin to feel lost within ourselves.

What begins as a single moment of unchecked emotion gradually reveals just how fragile our sense of control can be. One impulsive encounter, born from a surge of frustration, carries the potential to unravel the delicate threads of an ordinary life. The writing navigates these emotional undercurrents with care and precision, moving fluidly between tension, fleeting humor, and moments of quiet devastation.

The series shows a rare willingness to let its central characters exist as both flawed individuals and unsettling reflections of ourselves. Through them, it explores themes of cultural displacement, the slow shaping and erosion of identity across generations, and the often unspoken weight of immigration. These ideas are handled with a restraint that feels reminiscent of more contemplative cinema, allowing meaning to emerge without force.

Steven Yeun delivers a performance of remarkable depth. He embodies a man worn down by repeated setbacks, yet still compelled to push forward, as if persistence alone might alter his course. There is something quietly tragic in watching someone search for resolution through choices that only complicate things further, like a gambler convinced the next turn will redeem all that came before. With each episode, his performance reveals new layers of vulnerability and restrained resilience.

Ali Wong meets him with equal nuance and intensity, creating a dynamic that feels deeply human and uncomfortably real. Together, they anchor the series with a sense of emotional authenticity that extends into the supporting cast, elevating every interaction and making even small moments feel significant.

The narrative also invites reflection on the idea of In Yun, the belief that certain encounters carry echoes of past connections or unseen threads of fate. It encourages a quiet contemplation of chance, consequence, and the subtle ways in which lives become intertwined through seemingly ordinary moments.

In the end, Beef lingers not because it offers easy answers, but because it asks us to look inward with a little more honesty and compassion. It reminds us how deeply our unexamined emotions can shape the lives we lead, and how much grace may be required as we move through the complicated terrain of being human.

Image courtesy of A24 Films

“Western therapy doesn’t work on Eastern Minds.” Danny Cho