Having been in Ashley’s shoes in amoment like this, it’s refreshing that creator and showrunner Lee Sung Jin treats it with visceral emotional force. This revelation causes waves that ripple through the show, not just contained to asingle moment for dramatic effect. The emotional cocktail of dejection and rage is shattered by the dawning realisation that Ashley needs health insurance, something her current job doesn’t offer. Luckily, she has abargaining chip: the footage in her camera roll of Josh and Lindsay’s fight. This is the decision that knocks the first in acascading line of dominoes for season two ofBeef.
The topic of reproductive health also binds these two couples; the individual struggles of Ashley and Lindsay become intertwined, just as womanhood is too often synonymous with motherhood. Both women are stuck in awaiting game; Ashley is seeking surgery before another ovarian torsion, and Lindsay is toying with the idea of trying again for ababy with Josh. While rifling through her wardrobe, ababy onesie falls out – Lindsay looks at the small garment emotionlessly before stuffing it on the back of her shelf. The silent gesture speaks volumes, and reproductive challenges become ahaunting device resonating throughout the show with these parallel experiences.
However, in amid-season episode set entirely in an emergency room, the conversation about the cracks in the American health system is loud. Even in the hospital Ashley’s condition and symptoms are brushed off and misdiagnosed, the limits of her pain tolerance being tested to the extreme.Beef doesn’t let viewers escape the reality of Ashley’s debilitating pain; she crumples into her waiting room chair in pain and twists in Austin’s hold while covered in asweaty sheen. In aheated argument between Ashley and Josh, he refuses to help her get medical attention until she wipes all of the backup footage of his fight. It’s the most spelt-out moment of this narrative arc and extends even beyond the privatised world of US healthcare: you can access medical attention, but only if you can afford it. This episode ofBeef is practically ahorror film – among the jump scares is Ashley discovering she has ahigh-deductible insurance plan and will have to pay up to $5000. In her last moments before surgery and her first when coming around from anaesthesia, she is asking about the cost of the operation. This mounting climax reflects areality for many people, where instead of worrying about her medical outcome, Ashley’s stressed about the fact that her healing comes with the promise ofdebt.
This thread continues throughout the season, from Lindsay’s OBGYN recommendations to the start of an IVF journey for Ashley and Austin.Beef repeatedly brings these silent struggles with reproductive health into the foreground, but importantly, the approach isn’t clinical. In an early scene where Ashley tells Austin about her doctor visit, she tearfully confesses, “I can’t do the one basic thing that this whole… like, everything is about, everywhere. Nature.” Ican assume most who’ve had asimilar experience have said words to this effect (I know Ihave) while processing anew reality of life with an ovarian condition. It’s validating to see such arealistic moment included amidst the heightened dramatic medical elements and criticism of the monetised healthcare system. This is especially true considering more thanaquarter of women in England have aserious reproductive health issue, while in the US the government continues to seek control over women’s bodies more and more. Yet the topic of reproductive health is rarely covered in mainstream media. WhileBeef is ashow which tackles much more than just this subject, this actually mirrors reality: what it means to push forward in life while in pain and constantly having to fight for better health care.