The ‘Curb Your Enthusiasm’ Final Season Is a Cranky, Cantankerous Delight

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The “Curb Your Enthusiasm” swan song is packed with Larry David’s misanthropy getting him into all the cringe-inducing comedic hijinks you crave. A perfect farewell.

Photo still of Larry David and Jeff Garlin in “Curb Your Enthusiasm.”
HBO

Larry David bids farewell to his second all-time great TV comedy (following Seinfeld) with the twelfth and final season of Curb Your Enthusiasm. Unsurprisingly, he goes out the same way he came in—crotchety, selfish, misanthropic and petty beyond belief—which is just how fans will want it, since fundamental to the HBO series’ appeal has always been its creator/star’s unwillingness to change his cringe-worthy attitude and behavior. David knows it too, confessing during this end run, "I've been expecting more from myself my whole life, and it's just not there.”

Curb Your Enthusiasm’s 10-episode conclusion, which premieres Feb. 4, doesn’t pull out all the stops with an ongoing storyline that ties up loose ends and revisits every past thread. Rather, at least during its initial nine chapters (which were all that were provided to press), it’s the same old madness, with Larry finding myriad opportunities to cause trouble for himself over the most trivial incidents and slights.

It begins with him traveling to Atlanta to attend the birthday party of a wealthy African who wants Larry as his (paid-for) guest of honor. When he arrives, however, Larry is stunned to discover that the shindig is for adult Michael Fouchay (Sharlto Copley), who’s not Black, but a white Afrikaner. More problematic, though, is that Michael has invited Young Larry star Maria Sofia (Keyla Monterroso Mejia) to the same event, and he expects Larry to be a cordial and gracious participant in the proceedings, which is sort of like asking a cat to do your taxes.

(Warning: minor spoilers ahead.)

There’s an incident in the premiere that I’m not allowed to mention that turns Larry into national news, thereby providing the backbone for the ensuing season and facilitating at least one cameo from an icon whose name must also, for now, be kept under wraps. Nonetheless, if this narrative plays out in bits and pieces throughout the show, it’s hardly the sole focal point. While stuck in Atlanta at an Airbnb with Jeff (Jeff Garlin), Susie (Susie Essman) and Leon (J.B. Smoove), the men find themselves extremely uncomfortable with the Black lawn jockey outside the front door and endeavor to remove it—leading to a mess that eventually concerns mockery of Jeff’s new hair dye and an amusing dig at Rudy Giuliani. Predictably, it all ends badly for Larry, who as usual is the butt of every joke, many of which make him resemble a racist, sexist, or other sort of intolerant creep.

Larry isn’t a bigot but an insensitive, arrogant, self-involved doofus who can’t stand people and, when faced with tricky or unpleasant situations, habitually makes the wrong move. There are plenty of those strewn throughout this new batch of Curb Your Enthusiasm gems, which if not quite the finest the series has offered, still ably elicit belly laughs from the protagonist’s blunders. Perhaps the funniest running gag involves Irma (Tracey Ullman), Larry’s alcoholic girlfriend, whom he can’t dump for six months because doing so might sabotage her recovery even though he detests her grossness and obnoxiousness. Irma won’t stop singing the jingle from the TV commercial for J.G. Wentworth, and it drives Larry mad—a recurring bit that’s right in line with David’s annoying-comedy-of-minutia m.o.

During the course of Curb Your Enthusiasm’s twelfth go-round, Larry screams bloody murder at Siri for not understanding his directions, gets furious about having his glasses stretched out by someone else’s large head, becomes annoyed at a woman for not letting him call her by a nickname, quarrels with his golf club manager over the kitchen’s bad eggs and bread (and is erroneously accused of posting a complaint note on the locker room bulletin board), and insults his lawyer (Sean Hayes) by saying that he’s stunned that the man’s forthcoming child isn’t taking his name (Mantle) but that of his husband (Zeckelman, played by Dan Levy). He also has to put up with endless Leon shenanigans, be it trying to sleep with a married woman who’s intent on getting pregnant, professing his horniness for a particular Disney character (“Tinkerbell’s fine as fuck”), or inadvertently figuring out an, ahem, ballsy way to get what he wants.

If Leon is Curb Your Enthusiasm’s most consistently riotous supporting character, he’s far from the only one. Garlin’s Jeff remains a reliable troublemaking sidekick, Essman’s Susie is her typical profane and nasty self, Richard Lewis is a combative foil, and Vince Vaughn—again playing Freddy Funkhouser, the cousin of the dearly departed Bob Einstein’s Marty Funkhouser—is a terrific addition to the cast. Along with Ted Danson, Cheryl Hines and other familiar faces, they’re an ideally ridiculous ensemble, and David comes up with a variety of absurd scenarios that take advantage of their kindred-buffoonish-spirit rapport. Whether it’s Larry concocting a “dream scheme” (i.e., faking a bad dream to trick an awake partner into doing one’s bidding), or repeatedly employing the “I like it gambit” (in which telling someone you’re fond of an item convinces them to give it to you), the show continues to mire its morons in choice nonsense.

Susie Essman in “Curb Your Enthusiasm.”

Susie Essman in Curb Your Enthusiasm.

HBO

Per formula, Curb Your Enthusiasm has Larry date young, beautiful women who are totally out of his league, including Sienna Miller and Essence Atkins, the latter of whom is caught in a compromising position with the comedian by his housekeeper. To a somewhat greater extent than in the past, some storylines fade out before they seem fully exploited, from Larry’s discomfort over learning that a former sexual partner is now a trans man, to a late joke about the protocols of hunches. Fortunately, this swan song season’s farcical situations and banter are so strong that such shortcomings are of little consequence, highlighted by Larry’s efforts to help a disgraced celebrity get admitted to his club (only to discover that maybe they’re guilty of their scandalous infractions), and by Susie’s misadventures with an oft-defaced billboard.

Giving COVID to a superstar, admitting he has sex with women on the floor because it negates any post-coital cuddling, and agreeing with Leon that you can insult a dog’s weight because they don’t understand English—at every turn, Larry proves himself the undisputed king of inappropriate idiocy. No matter how its finale plays out, Curb Your Enthusiasm’s decisive season sends him off on top.