Crime
Unconditional
Language, violence and intense thematic elements might make Apple TV’s ‘Unconditional’ a show you watch under no conditions.
We’re good people. Good, I say.
We care for others, you and I. We work hard. We pray every day/week/whenever we can. Oh, sure, sometimes we have bad days. We might accidentally cut someone off on the road or speak to someone else more harshly than we should. We can do things we’re not proud of. But life is stressful, right? We can’t be perfect. Nobody’s perfect.
If only the people around us tried to live life as we do. If only that stupid jerk who cut us off on the road would be nice and considerate, like we try to be. If only that inconsiderate heel didn’t speak so harshly to us. Why are people so terrible? Why don’t people on the road/school/meeting/church act like we do? Why? WHY?!
Danny was a good person. In the show’s first season, he worked harder than anyone he knew—fixing toilets, installing doorbells, whatever he could do to pay the bills.
Amy was a good person, too. She also worked harder than anyone she knew—selling plants online, forcing smiles constantly, trying to support her artist husband and troubled daughter. But try as she might, she was barely holding it together.
The two wound up in a confrontation after a near fender bender, involving an overly honked horn, a raised middle finger and a car chase through the streets. But the pair just couldn’t let go of their beef.
Danny still had bills to pay and parents to bring to America. Amy still had a family to care for and a business to nurse. But those worthy elements were slowly receding into something more primal: Each wanted to make the other’s life an abject misery.
But deep down, they’re still good people, right?
In the show’s second season, we meet a couple of other good people who have beef, too.
Joshua is a good person. He’s the general manager of Monte Vista Point, a prestigious country club that’s just been purchased by a new South Korean owner. She’s sure to make plenty of changes, and Joshua is just hoping to keep his job.
His wife, Lindsay, is stressed, too. Her marriage to Joshua has been unsatisfying, to say the least. Not only has the couple not been intimate in a year, but the successful life Joshua promised her still has yet to come. She allowed him to use her entire inheritance to fund that dream, too.
And so they fight. And this fight grows loud, proud and dirty. Lindsay takes a golf club and smashes objects in Joshua’s bedroom. (He’s been sleeping apart from her for some time now.) Joshua screams at Lindsay, and she screams back. And just as Joshua takes the golf club from her to slow her rampage, they hear a noise outside. …
Ashley is a good person. She works at the country club, providing snacks and drinks to its wealthy patrons. But the job offers her no health insurance and low pay—two factors that come into play when doctors discover she has an ovarian cyst. Best case scenario, it’ll make it difficult-to-impossible to become pregnant. Otherwise, it’ll probably kill her one day. But with little education to bolster her background, Ashley has no leverage for a better position at the club or anywhere else that might get her the health insurance she needs. This job is the best thing she’s got.
Part of that job requires her to return Joshua’s wallet after he leaves it behind at work. So she and her fiancé, Austin, head over to the boss’ house. Joshua doesn’t answer the door, but they hear a ruckus, so they walk around the home to investigate. They watch an intense domestic dispute unfold, and Ashley records it on her phone before she and Austin run away.
And that’s when Ashley gets an idea: Joshua’s part of a terrible system—the “late-stage capitalism” that keeps people like her down and unable to afford healthcare. She wants to get back at him.
That’s why Ashley and Austin confront Joshua and Lindsay to their faces, demanding Joshua offer Ashley a better job with health benefits. If he doesn’t, Ashley will post the video, and Joshua is sure to lose his job.
Joshua and Lindsay know the truth. They know couples fight (even if they themselves got carried away this last time). They know neither intended to hurt the other. But they also know that the Internet would never believe them: That video certainly makes it seem like Joshua was about to hit Lindsay with the golf club. So Joshua scrounges up a job for Ashley.
But this beef is far from over.
Beef might be one of the saddest, strangest comedies you’ll ever see. Danny and Amy indeed have a beef with each other—as do Ashley and Joshua. And as this Netflix miniseries trundles on, more and more people within their respective spheres will be touched, tarnished and traumatized.
The same might be said for the viewer.
Don’t get me wrong: Beef is a “good” show. Rotten Tomatoes reviewers have given it a 99% “freshness” rating, with Vox calling it “perfect.” Writing and acting are both top tier.
But as we’ve seen, good is often measured on a sliding scale. And by some of Plugged In’s measures, Beef isn’t very good at all.
The show feels constantly on the brink of cataclysmic violence, with the threat of self-destruction (of one form or another) forever in play. Sex and masturbation (including some graphic and disturbing expressions of it) is inescapably woven into the show’s tapestry—whether it’s seen onscreen or referenced in casual conversation. And the language can be extraordinarily harsh, too.
And interwoven into the show is a spiritual message, too. On one end, it takes a literal approach, such as when Danny joins a church, breaking down in tears when the worship team’s performance of “O Come to the Altar” resonates with him. On the other end, it lies in the musings of its broken protagonists when they consider how God could create such a broken world—and, in the first season, Danny and Amy come to a rather depressing (and unbiblical) conclusion.
Are we good people? The Gospel is clear: No, not really. Underneath our smiles and good intentions, we’re filled with hurt and rage, sorrow and sin. Beef reminds us of that—albeit in some imperfect ways.
(Editor’s Note: Plugged In is rarely able to watch every episode of a given series for review. As such, there’s always a chance that you might see a problem that we didn’t. If you notice content that you feel should be included in our review, send us an email at letters@pluggedin.com, or contact us via Facebook or Instagram, and be sure to let us know the episode number, title and season so that we can check it out.)
After unsuccessfully trying to return several hibachi grills, Danny leaves Forsters home improvement center frustrated and angry. He starts backing his truck out of the parking space—and nearly hits a very angry BMW driver. He doesn’t know it yet, but that driver is Amy Lau, who runs a plant-selling business that she, in turn, hopes to sell to Forsters. The two race through the streets in a terrifying road-rage incident (endangering a great many people along the way). Amy’s BMW winds up escaping unscathed, but Danny memorizes her license-plate number—and he’s determined to track her down.
[Spoiler Warning] He does—and he knocks on her door while she’s in the bathroom, masturbating with a gun. (We see her holding the gun between her legs, though we don’t witness anything else critical. She seems aroused by the “click” of the trigger pull.) She makes herself presentable and, not recognizing him, lets him in. She seems to be open to having a one-afternoon-stand with him, pointing out that her husband won’t be home “for quite some time.” He’s oblivious to the suggestion, and shortly thereafter, Danny uses Amy’s restroom—urinating over everything.
Danny falls from a tree. (He would’ve been seriously injured had it not been for a harness holding him.) We learn that his cousin (Isaac) was recently released from jail (perhaps for counterfeiting baby formula). Amy attends a mushroom-based dinner with spiritual undertones. (“If I go to a spiritual place tonight,” she tells her husband, “just let me go alone.”) The hostess says she doesn’t even like mushrooms, “except for the magic kind.”
Characters drink wine. Someone tries to kill himself. Bingeing on fast food nearly causes someone to vomit. Characters play with money—some of it borrowed—in the crypto market. Danny’s mother tells him that he should “find a nice Korean church and get married.” Someone tells Amy that she has a “serene Zen Buddhist thing going on.”
Characters say the f-word more than 50 times (several of which are paired with “mother”); the s-word about 16 times; and a variety of other profanities, including “a–,” “h—” and “d-ck.” God’s name is misused seven times, and Jesus’ name is abused once.
Danny turns to an unexpected place to deal with his anger. Amy and George discuss the issues within their relationship.
Danny attempts to light Amy’s car on fire, but he stops when he sees Amy’s daughter inside. George accidentally sends a photo of a woman baring a lot of cleavage. We later see him masturbating to the photo, and though nothing critical is seen, we hear sounds. Amy references a coworker’s breasts and butt, and she makes a crude reference to arousal. A man kisses Amy. Amy uses another woman’s photo to lead a man on.
Danny decides to attend Living Glory Church, where he enters to the worship team playing “O Come to the Altar.” The moment causes Danny to break down in tears, and the pastor prays over him. Later, Danny tells his friend about the experience, saying “it’s like I actually felt God’s presence.” But his friend isn’t as interested. “Well, Jesus did all those nice things, and look what they did to Him.”
The f-word is used 17 times, including once preceded by “mother.” The s-word is heard 13 times. We also hear the occasional “a–” and “b–ch.” God’s name is used in vain twice. Someone makes a crude reference to a woman’s breasts.
Danny and Amy, stuck in the wilderness following a car crash, discuss what comes next in their lives.
Two cars careen off a cliff, and Danny and Amy emerge bloodied. Danny pushes Amy down a hill, injuring her ankle. Amy breaks Danny’s arm. Someone is shot. The two eat poisonous berries and vomit extensively onscreen. Someone flatulates in a drawn-out scene.
Danny and Amy discuss why God would make a world with so much brokenness. They wonder “if God is everything, then we’re God.” They conclude that God must be like us (at odds with Psalm 50:21), and that He is “just trying to not feel alone in nothingness.” Later, the two conclude that there’s nothing after life.
The two discuss a variety of other things, too, including evolution, pornography, sexual kinks, sex, masturbation, suicide and urination.
The f-word is heard nearly 30 times, and the s-word is used 17 times. We also hear “a–,” “b–ch,” “d–k” and “p-ss” a handful of times. God’s name is used in vain over 15 times, including once in the form of “g-dd–n.” Jesus’ name is abused once.
When Joshua and Lindsay fight, they don’t realize they’re being recorded. And when Ashley learns some troubling medical news, she considers how that video recording might change her situation.
Lindsay complains that she and Joshua haven’t had sex in a long time. She is also annoyed about her husband’s “pervert” habits: Joshua pays prostitutes online for live-video sex; we see his masturbatory actions (with critical anatomy hidden); we also see semen on his laptop. Lindsay calls out her husband for flip-flopping between “sexual deviant” and “celibate,” mentioning that their friends have sex every day. Joshua snidely remarks that, were he married to his friend’s wife, he’d have sex every day, too.
When Ashley learns she will most likely be unable to naturally conceive, she and Austin have sex without protection. We see their bodies moving (including Austin’s naked rear) and hear noises as they copulate. A woman can be partially seen in lingerie. Lindsay flirts with a number of men over text behind her husband’s back. Apparently feeling convicted, she later chooses to block some of them.
Men kiss their wives or fiancées. We see Austin shirtless and women in bathing suits and tight sportswear. A man makes an unwelcome comment about Ashley’s rear.
Lindsay smashes objects around her home in anger. Both she and Joshua throw wine glasses on the ground, shattering them.
People drink liquor, beer and wine. Ashley vomits.
We hear nearly 40 uses of the f-word and 15 of the s-word. We also hear “b–ch” and “d–k.” God’s name is used in vain 11 times.
Kennedy Unthank studied journalism at the University of Missouri. He knew he wanted to write for a living when he won a contest for “best fantasy story” while in the 4th grade. What he didn’t know at the time, however, was that he was the only person to submit a story. Regardless, the seed was planted. Kennedy collects and plays board games in his free time, and he loves to talk about biblical apologetics. He’s also an avid cook. He thinks the ending of Lost “wasn’t that bad.”
Paul Asay has been part of the Plugged In staff since 2007, watching and reviewing roughly 15 quintillion movies and television shows. He’s written for a number of other publications, too, including Time, The Washington Post and Christianity Today. The author of several books, Paul loves to find spirituality in unexpected places, including popular entertainment, and he loves all things superhero. His vices include James Bond films, Mountain Dew and terrible B-grade movies. He’s married, has two children and a neurotic dog, runs marathons on occasion and hopes to someday own his own tuxedo. Feel free to follow him on Twitter @AsayPaul.
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