By jasper 
Amy Liu and Danny Cho from “Beef” are a pair of adversaries, somewhat reminiscent of “Killing Eve.” Among the many labels they carry, “out of control” is the most central. Their flaws become their superpowers. Whenever the protagonists lose control, we know something exciting is about to happen—someone’s going to get hurt, and the audience eagerly anticipates the ensuing chaos.
Amy and Danny are not antisocial; they are deeply depressed without realizing it. They fiercely deny any suggestion of such “negativity.” However, unresolved emotions need an outlet. People go through life like ticking time bombs, waiting for bad circumstances or other ticking bombs to set them off.
The story of “Beef” begins with a road rage incident—a seemingly random conflict that exposes their current helplessness and despair because neither is willing to back down. Why do they hate a stranger so much? Why seek revenge as if paranoid about conspirators?
At its core, it’s because they hate their current lives but take it out on random, innocent people rather than what truly harms them. This is very East Asian—good at bullying easy targets to maintain an outward calm and dignity.
This kind of personality split can be contagious—the higher you climb, the deeper your soul falls into the abyss. “Beef” pushes Amy and Danny over the edge. Despite East Asians’ risk-averse life logic, these road-rage characters still engage in dangerous acts and mess things up in hidden corners.
First off, the writers excel at using minor misunderstandings to ignite revenge plots. Normally shrewd and steady characters turn into Hulks in an instant, turning their survival skills into murder skills. This gives the plot an absurd quality most of the time, providing plenty of laughs. This is where the show’s brilliance lies—family drama seamlessly transitions into genre film territory while characters maintain balance, executing perfect drifts that are both thrilling and heart-wrenching.
Originally, Amy’s character was conceived as a middle-aged white man, akin to actor Stanley Tucci. However, since the creators had no strong desire to explore racial themes, they chose an Asian female elite instead. In hindsight, this decision shaped the plot and perfectly suited Ali Wong.
It might not be until the final episode that viewers realize Amy and Danny are not just opposing characters in terms of gender or class but rather conjoined twins traumatized in childhood and long controlled and repressed.
Amy comes from a completely different class background compared to Danny. She is an outstanding Los Angeles plant designer while he is a desperate building contractor. They live in different houses, drive different cars but are consumed by the same void. Amy has a career that Danny envies and plans to sell it to a company for future security.
Ironically, despite her years of hard work supporting her family, it’s her husband who ends up with family happiness; even her daughter isn’t that close to her. Amy isn’t naturally sacrificial; she knows relationships have price tags—even her daughter won’t love her unconditionally.
On the other hand, Danny’s limitations from banks, family, and mindset prevent him from achieving imagined success. He’s an unlucky contractor whose parents lost their motel in LA and moved back to Korea waiting for him to bring them back once he becomes successful. But he failed in business; his assets went to zero; he fills his void by binge-eating Burger King and crying in church.
Compared to Amy, he’s a true loser—not marginalized by American society but a victim of toxic masculinity: jealous, arrogant yet incredibly fragile with violent tendencies when denied making poor decisions.
The only thing giving him value is his “big brother” identity—controlling his younger brother out of desperation for success while portraying himself as a misunderstood genius.
Amy is more realistic and flexible; she respects every step on her ladder knowing how best benefit herself & family while knowing what she wants from marriage & family.
Her marriage with an artist’s son-in-law eloquent mother-in-law expensive chair all part deal widening resources stepping stones.
To close business deals smiling facing Maria Bello’s wealthy character tolerating backstabbing colleagues paying extravagant mother-in-law bills self-promoting mansion quietly settling disputes money.
Amy has top-tier talent becoming East Asian matriarch adeptly masquerading model wife mother budgeting meticulously maintaining impeccable appearances inside out.
Her husband typical East Asian man character affirmed qualities settles uninterested money work.
He good son husband father receiving triple affirmation mother wife daughter equally masking simplicity hiding desires within marriage.
As wife naturally can’t angry such husband slow pace absolute control within household being good father means can’t bad mother.
Whatever happens only tells slow down breathe without addressing real issues.
Outside family broader American stereotypes Asians docile hardworking obedient.
To fit social circles even cultivates these traits but “Beef” shows viewers how out-of-control desperate these people truly are.
Steven Yeun’s characters’ violence anger always motivated each unhappy person has reasons yet pretend happy fabricating unrelated causes for discontentment.
These deep-seated pains erode inner self-identity generation after generation pursuing unwanted things forcing sacrifices upon themselves loved ones.
Amy Danny got this early age destroyed continuing destroy those around them.
Danny cruelly binds brother appearing wanting eternal bond actually ruining future.
Brother lost self gaming becoming impotent rage similar Danny idolizing then hating Amy brewing greater tragedy later on.
Factually both mistakenly believe unable show true selves anyone else.
We can feel this within our own families besides these issues rare empathy exists between Amy Danny regardless class seeing similar pains sensing same brokenness chaos thus lowering defenses shedding hatred multiple twists born protagonists’ fluctuating emotions moral awakenings throughout “Beef”.
Ultimately anger healthier than repression affirming anger acknowledges wounds providing reconciliation possibilities undoubtedly A24 mastered new narrative trend.
