Following up a season that won eight Primetime Emmy Awards brings its own kind of pressure, particularly when the series was originally conceived as a limited story. For Lee Sung Jin, better known as Sonny, the challenge with Netflix’s “Beef” was not simply figuring out how to continue the show, but whether there was a story personal enough to justify returning to it at all. After Season 1 transformed a road rage incident into one of television’s biggest success stories, Lee returned with a new cast, a different setting, and a story that trades road rage for something arguably more combustible: money, status, marriage, and the resentment that often sits just below the surface.
The first season of “Beef” became a cultural phenomenon, earning eight Emmy wins, including Outstanding Limited or Anthology Series, Outstanding Writing, and Outstanding Directing for Lee, while stars Steven Yeun and Ali Wong both took home acting honors. Season 2 leaves those characters behind and instead centers on a wealthy country club community where a private argument spirals into a very public problem. Oscar Isaac plays Josh, the club’s general manager, opposite Carey Mulligan as Lindsay, his wife and a former designer struggling to find her footing. Their explosive confrontation is witnessed and recorded by Ashley, a beverage cart worker played by Cailee Spaeny, and Austin, her fiancé, portrayed by Charles Melton. What begins as a single moment soon pulls multiple families into a web of secrets, shifting loyalties, and consequences neither side fully anticipates.
The cast surrounding them is every bit as impressive. Academy Award winner Youn Yuh-jung and Korean cinema icon Song Kang-ho bring gravity to the season’s Korean storyline, while Seoyeon Jang leaves a lasting impression as Eunice, a translator whose growing connection with Austin becomes one of the season’s most quietly compelling threads.
One of the season’s strongest episodes is Episode 4, “Oh the Comfort, the Inexpressible Comffort.” Set largely within a hospital, the hour places Spaeny and Melton front and center as Ashley faces a medical crisis that quickly becomes something much larger. Lee uses the episode to examine the financial realities many Americans face when healthcare suddenly becomes necessary, showing how quickly the system can fail someone without premium health insurance or status. The episode also finds dramatic tension in the increasingly complicated dynamic between Austin and Eunice, capturing the awkward rhythms of modern relationships through text messages, deleted conversations, and digital breadcrumbs that refuse to stay buried. Those observations are very much in line with Lee’s creative philosophy. As he explains, the starting point is often asking himself, “What feels honest? What is something in my life that I haven’t gotten to see before?”
What makes the episode linger is how recognizable much of it feels. The awkward timing of a text. The decision to delete a message. The realization that deleted messages have a way of reappearing at exactly the wrong moment. These details may seem minor, but they become major turning points in the characters’ lives. It’s also where “Beef” is operating at its best, finding larger observations about class and privilege through moments that feel personal and specific rather than overtly political.
Lee recently spoke with Awards Focus about the real-life argument that inspired Season 2, the advice from Netflix that nearly convinced him not to make another season, and why empathy is the quality he values most in actors. He also discussed the now-famous Austin and Eunice hospital sequence, revealed the unexpected preparation behind that memorable stretching scene, and reflected on working with a cast that consistently found new layers within every character.

Awards Focus: It’s nice to talk to you. I know you’ve been very busy helping to promote this show and the wonderful cast and creators behind it.
Sonny Lee: Thanks for having me, always. It was a fun season to do. It’s fun to talk about it.
AF: With Season 1 being such a phenomenon, when you sat down and started to think about Season 2 and the concept of a franchise, what were some of the thoughts you had? What ultimately sparked the central idea for Season 2?
Lee: Truthfully, I wasn’t thinking about it like that, and I really wasn’t going anywhere because we were in the middle of our awards run for Season 1. I was pitching a lot of ideas to Netflix that were more along the lines of, “What about this beef between a men’s doubles team?” There were slides in my initial network pitch back when we took it around town that featured more true beefs. Despite us doing well with awards for Season 1, there wasn’t a lot of interest in those approaches. Ginny Howe at Netflix pulled me aside and very wisely said, “Look, I can tell you’re just pitching to pitch. You’re trying to get a second season, and that’s not why we do this. ‘Beef’ can remain limited. You pitched it as limited. We can talk about other shows, but you should only do another season of ‘Beef’ if you find something that you’re actually passionate about and that you absolutely have to express.” That was a very needed callout because it reminded me that the reason “Beef” was born wasn’t necessarily to create a franchise or have a hit show.
There was something deeply personal and truthful that needed to get out. The universe somehow left us at my front doorstep again when I heard a spat coming from a neighbor’s home. The spat itself wasn’t that interesting to me. I’m an elder millennial, so I was more like Josh and Lindsay. I was just thinking, “I’ll leave that alone. It’s none of my business.” But when I retold the story, I thought maybe there was a show there because all my Gen Z friends were aghast and worried and asking if I had called 911. Everyone my age and older just shrugged and said, “Yeah, I did that yesterday.” To me, that’s fascinating. There’s such a dichotomy among a group of friends who are so close in age. What happens between your late twenties and your late thirties that suddenly your view of marriage and relationships shifts so quickly? I’m 44 now, and I started reflecting on life. I thought, okay, I think there’s a show here about love and how it changes over time. I was also thinking about how we all change throughout generations, not just in love, but in what we want out of life. I remember being in my twenties on the staff of a show, and if the showrunner made us stay until 7:02 p.m., I’d think, “I can’t believe you’re here past seven. The showrunner must hate his family.” Then here I am, decades later, staying at work until 11:30 p.m. That idealistic hubris of youth gets chipped away by life. That felt very potent. Luckily, Netflix agreed.
AF: I’ve read or heard you had a number of the cast members personally identified while you were writing the scripts. How much do you leave the door open to continue revising the script based on a final casting decision or even their performance?
Lee: I just cannot write very well without knowing who I’m writing to. On Season 1, we had Steven (Yuen) and Ali (Wong) attached from the beginning, which helped so much. Similarly on Season 2, we had Episode 1 before we locked in our four leads. We tried a couple different drafts. I think we had maybe two or three episodes written when we attached Youn Yuh-jung and Song Kang-ho. It’s really helpful to have the cast attached before doing too much writing, at least in my experience. It allows you to be more bespoke and have very deep conversations with each cast member to see what textures we can mine from their lives. What is their natural energy? What does this character want to be in tune with? So much of each character isn’t just us writers in a vacuum. It was hours and hours of phone calls and texts with each cast member, constantly tweaking things. Even on set, we’re willing to throw anything out if it doesn’t feel true. That only happens if you have people on your team who want to play the sport that way. It’s a two-way street.
AF: You’ve now worked with phenomenal actors, Oscar winners, Emmy winners. What are you learning about actors that makes them so good at their job and able to deliver what you’ve written on the page?
Lee: That’s a great question. I haven’t been asked that. The first word that comes to mind when I think about the actors I’ve had the privilege of working with is empathy. The people who do this really well have an immense capacity for empathy. A lot of these characters are doing despicable things. We’ve often talked about “Beef” as an exercise in Carl Jung and shadow work. In the wrong hands, someone might play these characters with judgment. They’d think, “I’m playing a bad guy, so let me lean into that.” But with the cast I’ve worked with, they try to find where the light is in the character. They’re very protective and defensive of the characters once they lock in because they’re trying to understand how this person became the way they are. Nobody really starts evil. When we’re born as infants, we’re kind of a blank slate. It’s fascinating to watch each actor find the light and then lock into it. That’s why these characters feel so true and lived in. Even if the words aren’t saying it directly, the actors are finding the humanity underneath the despicable acts.
AF: I have to ask, when you cast Eunice, was it important that she could stretch her hamstrings as much as she did in that scene, which ultimately is one of the most memorable scenes of the season?
Lee: Yeah, agreed. It wasn’t part of any of the self tapes. With Seoyeon, her tape was extraordinary. She can play composed and still, really buttoned up, which is needed for a translator for someone like Hyeon-seo Park. But there’s also such an earnest warmth underneath that professional exterior that you find yourself wanting to root for her. Even if there is a flirtation and chemistry between her and Austin, it’s going to be difficult for the audience because they’re thinking, “Hey, Austin, you’re engaged to Ashley.” So it was really important to find someone who could make the whole thing not feel too icky. It’s a testament to Seoyeon that we cast her purely based on her acting abilities. Then I got so busy with scripts and prep that I didn’t think to check in with her about the stretching at all. It wasn’t until I was shot listing Episode 3, deep into prep, that I thought, “Oh wait, how am I going to shoot this? Are we going to need a prosthetic leg?” I set up a Zoom and said, “I’m so sorry I didn’t check in sooner, but are you flexible? Can you start stretching now? Let me know what you can do because it really affects the shot structure and whether we’ll need a prosthetic.” She said, “Don’t worry. The second I got cast, I hired a stretching coach. I’ve been stretching every day for three months, and I can do the splits.”
AF: That is commitment.
Lee: True commitment. What a gift that was directorially because it allowed me and James Laxton, our DP, to stay in that two shot and just push the whole time. You always want to avoid cuts when possible. Every time there’s a cut, it can take you out of the moment. To stay in that two shot and just keep pushing and pushing until the reveal really helped the romantic tension in that scene.

AF: I know you attend a lot of Asian American events and have always been very supportive of the community. I’m curious, in 2026, what is your view on the kinds of stories that need to be told to put us in a position where we’re seeing renewals? There have been so many one and done Asian American series over the last few years that never got a second season.
Lee: I can’t really speak to culture at large because it’s so hard to dissect. There are so many ever changing variables. I think that’s one of the hard parts of being a person of color in this industry. Sometimes you’re trying to intellectualize everything. You’re trying to predict trends. You’re thinking, “Well, this worked, so let’s do this again.” That can become paralyzing because those questions are probably better left to much smarter sociologists and journalists who can write thoughtful pieces about it. For me as a writer and director, all I can really do is ask, “What feels honest? What is something in my life that I haven’t gotten to see before?” Because there are still relatively few opportunities, yet an infinite number of dimensions to being Asian American, my approach has been to avoid showing the same slice twice. In Season 1, we explored a very specific Korean American experience in Los Angeles. It was deeply tied to the Korean church experience and things that were very near and dear to my heart. After that, I thought, “Okay, I’ve shown that. There are so many other facets of being Asian in this country. What haven’t we shown yet?” I looked around my writers room and realized many of my writers are half Asian. My daughter is half Korean. I hadn’t really seen a half Korean identity struggle depicted the way I wanted to see it. Usually, when identity struggles are portrayed, the tension comes from giving up your Korean identity to assimilate into whiteness and climb the corporate ladder. But what about the opposite? What about someone who feels pressure to assimilate into Korean culture?
That was actually something I was thinking about between seasons of “Beef.” I got the opportunity to shoot a music video for RM from BTS. Suddenly I was being wined and dined by Korean conglomerates, having dinners in private rooms, meeting K-pop idols, actors, executives from cosmetic companies. I literally had my Notes app open the whole time writing everything down because I realized I hadn’t really seen this slice of the corporate global elite portrayed in Western media. There are Korean films that touch on it, but not many American television shows or films. Those are the things that excite me. I think, “Wait, we haven’t shown this yet. Let’s show it.” And because I was living through it, I could capture all those little details and specificities. That’s really been my approach. Now that we’ve explored that world, I’m already thinking about what other angles and dimensions we haven’t gotten to explore yet. As long as I keep getting opportunities, I’ll continue reflecting on my life and trying to see what the universe wants me to channel.
AF: As you’ve been on the awards tour, is there a compliment you’ve received that really stands out and resonated with you, something that cut through some of the more generic feedback you probably get?
Lee: For sure. The best thing that’s happened to me this year was my writing hero, David Chase, calling me. I didn’t have his number, so one morning my phone rang while I was on my way to support my Minnesota Timberwolves as they were playing the San Antonio Spurs. I was heading to the airport when he called. He said, “Sonny, it’s David.” I said, “David who?” And he said, “David Chase.” He was incredibly complimentary about the season. He had just finished Episode 5, and unfortunately I was boarding a plane, so we only got to talk for about fifteen minutes. He was asking questions about how we accomplished what we did, complimenting the actors, the writing, and the directing. I was honestly having an out of body experience. Then they started boarding the flight, and I said, “I’m so sorry, David. Can we continue this later? Please call me back.” Thankfully, he did call me a few days later after he finished the season. We had a wonderful conversation. We even briefly talked about collaborating on something, but unfortunately he’s at HBO and I’m at Netflix.
AF: Maybe down the road.
Lee: Hopefully down the road. I still haven’t fully processed that it happened because, as I’ve said many times in press, “The Sopranos” is the holy grail for me. Everything I learned about writing came from David and the incredible writers on that show, including Terence Winter. To get that phone call was surreal. I actually screenshotted the call log that showed we talked for fifteen minutes. I saved it and favorited it. Whenever I’m feeling down, I can just look at that screenshot and remember it happened.
AF: A show like “The Sopranos” ran for several seasons. Audiences got to spend years with those characters. As you think about future seasons of “Beef,” are you tempted to revisit characters from previous seasons, whether through cameos or even bringing back cast members from Seasons 1 or 2?
Lee: When it comes to future seasons of “Beef,” I’m honestly not sure right now. Netflix has kindly left the door open. Much like Season 2, they’ve said that if inspiration strikes, we should talk about it. At the same time, if we want to end it here, that’s perfectly fine too. I do know they want an ongoing relationship with me, and I have another idea that I’m starting to get passionate about.
Hopefully I can tease it a little bit. It’s set in the world of a fashion house. One of the biggest inspirations for it is actually “The Firm.” It’s almost like “The Firm” set inside a fashion house. That’s something I’m currently ruminating on, whether I actually do it or not. Like you mentioned, so many of my favorite shows are ongoing series. “Friday Night Lights” is one of my favorites. “The Sopranos.” “Mad Men.” I’ve now done the limited series format for two seasons. Maybe it is time to think about characters that audiences can really invest in over a longer period of time. I also love working with people I’ve worked with before. As I write characters, if someone I’ve collaborated with previously feels right for a role, I always love bringing those people back.
AF: Thank you so much. It’s always great talking with you, Sonny. I look forward to whatever comes next, whether it’s “Beef” or something entirely new.
Lee: Thank you so much. I appreciate it. Hopefully you’ll enjoy whatever future work comes next.
