And so Curb Your Enthusiasm bows out in much the same way it began, 24 long years ago: unrepentant, gloriously rude, and often howlingly funny. The 12th and final season of the Larry David
comedy that thrived mostly on its absence of plot came to an end in a court of law, where Larry, on trial for violating Georgia
election law, was forced to defend himself, not just on that charge but also on the multiple stains upon his, um, his good character. But how could there be redemption for a man who, to pick just a few examples from the previous 120 episodes, has urinated on a picture of Christ, insulted both Palestine and Israel, and stolen a
golf club from a dead man’s hand while that dead man lay in an open coffin? Sometimes, when a series runs on and on (and on), viewers can overlook its occasional failings and simply enjoy it for what it is. Not everybody enjoyed Curb Your Enthusiasm . In many ways, it was shoddy. Seemingly deliberately so, because while other shows were more artfully constructed, more carefully written, and performed with less obvious corpsing – David and regular guest star, the late Richard Lewis , couldn’t look at each other without laughing – David simply couldn’t be bothered to put in the effort. He’s a wealthy man; mainly, he just wanted to play golf. And he could afford to, having previously co-written Seinfeld , one of the biggest and most beloved
American sitcoms of the 90s . If he failed to display much enthusiasm in following that up with something new, then he nevertheless did so rather well, and created for himself a vehicle that would transform him into a very particular kind of American hero. In many ways a US One Foot in the Grave , Curb was mostly about a grouchy old-timer – in his early fifties at the time of its first series – who, having written a generational TV sitcom, now mooched around
Los Angeles, having lunch with
Friends and complaining about restaurant service. He complained about everything, really, and dealt with his myriad dissatisfactions by being obnoxious. Some people just need to vent. Read Next Curb Your Enthusiasm's Larry and Jeff showed us every man needs a best friend Twelve seasons! And yet somehow it was borne aloft on the strength of David himself, alongside his recurring characters (Jeff, the phenomenal Susie, Ted Danson), and the show’s recurring punchlines and visual motifs. “Pretty, pretty good,” shouldn’t be particularly funny but very much is, while nobody stares into another’s eyes with a more judgmental gaze than Larry himself. This final episode essentially unfolded like a greatest hits, revisiting scenes from seasons past. Prosecuting lawyer Greg Kinnear brought out a succession of the series’ previous characters – each insulted by Larry in their own special way – to confirm that he really was beyond redemption, and deserved to stew in jail. His only attempt at self-mitigation came when he told the jury, Prince Andrew-like , that “I don’t sweat”, before adding, “except occasionally during intercourse”. The last few moments featured an appearance from Jerry Seinfeld , allowing an in-joke between the two about how they should have ended Seinfeld back in 1998 (the finale was much criticised at the time), and then the curtain came down in the way this particular curtain always has: people bickering operatically in public due to Larry’s irascibility. Curb Your Enthusiasm is the perfect anomalous example of a series that went on far too long and yet somehow not long enough. It ran out of creative juice several seasons ago, true, but remained watchable because of Larry David himself: a grouch, an unlikely style icon, and so oddly lovable despite – well, despite everything. Perhaps even because of it.