Curb Your Enthusiasm Season 12: Binge, Fringe, or Singe?
Written by Andreas Babiolakis
Binge, Fringe, or Singe? is our television series that will cover the latest seasons, miniseries, and more. Binge is our recommendation to marathon the reviewed season. Fringe means it won’t be everyone’s favourite show, but is worth a try (maybe there are issues with it). Singe means to avoid the reviewed series at all costs.
Warning: Spoilers of Curb Your Enthusiasm season 12 are in this article. Reader discretion is advised.
And just like that, Larry David’s comedy classic, Curb Your Enthusiasm, has wrapped up for good. There was speculation that this may not actually be the end of the long-running series and that David always flip-flops on his decision to retire his show, but the finale, “No Lessons Learned”, appears to conclude the series effectively enough that there feasibly cannot be any way the show can come back from this. Before we get to the very end of the season and show, we need to backtrack a little bit. David is obviously attached to the greatest sitcom of all time, Seinfeld (which he co-created with comedian namesake Jerry Seinfeld). That show’s finale has polarized audiences for decades. The gang of Jerry, George Costanza, Elaine Benes, and Cosmo Kramer get arrested while they’re on their way to the revival of Jerry and George’s sitcom idea. The four misfits didn’t help someone who was in need of assistance, and they were acting in violation of the Massachusetts Good Samaritan Law. Their trial allows those they’ve wronged in the past to show up and rip their reputation to shreds before the court (this is also a clever-enough excuse to bring up clips of fan-favourite episodes and moments, as we follow these testimonies). The karma that followed the gang after years of selfish behaviour finally bites them in the ass. The four protagonists wind up in jail for a year, and the rest is history.
I personally think the finale is good in a contextual way, but it is by no means a terrific finale. Having said that, many, including David himself (who returned after two seasons away from Seinfeld to work on this final episode) who has felt like he has been answering for the backlash surrounding this much-vilified episode for years. There wasn’t much time to cry over spilled milk, though. Right away, David went on to his next project, and this time he was operating with the then-new freedoms of cable television: HBO’s Curb Your Enthusiasm. If Seinfeld’s George was meant to represent the shenanigans and observations of David (as Seinfeld represented himself), now we could experience these Larry-David-isms straight from the horse’s mouth. Curb Your Enthusiasm began as a voyeuristic eye that follows a fictionalized version of David around as we see how complicated, awkward, and erratic one of the minds behind Seinfeld is (or most likely is) in real life. With low-quality cameras, a lack of non-diegetic elements, and mostly improvised dialogue from David and other comedic legends, Curb Your Enthusiasm was an instant success because we felt like we were following this cherished figure around and seeing how unlikeable he perceives himself to be (while never feeling like he is wrong with any of his opinions, paradoxically). It was brilliant.
As the series went on, that realism slowly dissipated, and what began as a show that was about the life of Larry David became one about the mind of Larry David. David himself became more animated like a cartoon character, exaggerated and nonsensical. We’d enter daydreams, flashbacks, and even the afterlife when David appears to have temporarily died (even if this is just a vision, we’d never have gotten this in the earlier Curb seasons). The camera quality became too good to the point that we’re aware that we’re watching a show as opposed to moments in David’s hectic life. All of these shifts aren’t necessarily bad, because the majority of the series is still a riot to watch. What I will say, however, is that it became evident that David was always going to do whatever he wanted. Instead of making a new series for these ideas, he’d just retool Curb. He treated the series any way he wished, even going as far as taking years-long breaks from releasing new seasons if he wasn’t feeling inspired (it’s noble, actually).
One last reflection of our own before we finally get to where we need to with this review. Jerry Seinfeld didn’t want to continue Seinfeld after its ninth season because he had felt like the series had gone on long enough, and that pushing it any more would have run the show into the ground. There are many who feel like Seinfeld went downhill after David left in Season 7; I adore every season but understand why they may feel this way, given the shift in tone of the series. The point is that Seinfeld was still concluded before it became unwatchable. For me personally, Curb Your Enthusiasm was strong for ten whole seasons; at ten episodes a season, that’s a strong one-hundred-episode series with some misses and mostly hits. Once Season 11 rolled around, I felt like there was a noticeable dip in quality. The storylines that once organically progressed and converged into a climax now felt shoehorned in order to make these final situations work. New characters started to feel annoying, whereas I welcomed whoever would show up in David’s series before. David himself felt unhinged and not in a good way; he always voiced his opinions, but he felt like a human being and not a caricature of himself that you’d find on Saturday Night Live. It was unquestionably the worst season of the series, and I had hoped for something better with what was promoted as the final season of the series.
While we do have a better season here with Season 12, I sadly don’t feel like we have one that is much stronger. Curb Your Enthusiasm ends with a season that gave me as many laughs as one older episode would, and that isn’t a good sign. In the first episode, David gets arrested for giving Leon Black’s (J. B. Smoove) aunt Rae (Ellia English) some water while she is in line to vote, as this goes against the Election Integrity Act of 2021 in Atlanta (an insane, seemingly-fake law gets broken? Does that sound familiar?). For most of the season, David is trying to figure out how he can escape this potential sentence. America is deeming him a hero for his generosity, while those who are closer to him know better and despise him. Outside of this storyline, there isn’t much cohesion. Plot threads from Season 11 (again, my least favourite season) briefly continue here, with the highly exhausting Maria Sofia continuing her tirade to annoy audiences worldwide for one episode (which is already too many); her character succeeded in starring in the sitcom Young Larry (which was the premise of the previous season), and we barely hear about this show again (this is a harbinger of things to come). Irma Kostroski (Tracey Ullman) is back as Larry’s partner (begrudgingly so), but she is irritating in a fun way and far more pleasant to watch; even so, her storyline goes on for too long and barely goes anywhere as well.
As you can tell, much of the season’s issues stem from an apparent lack of purpose. Larry has a screaming match with his phone’s Siri in the car in the first episode of the season, and you’d think that his device not understanding him would lead to something funnier; a catastrophic event that stems from his inability to communicate with technology. That never happens. A briefly ongoing storyline involving Larry’s concern with a seemingly-dead fish in a restaurant’s tank lasts multiple episodes and, also, arrives at no punchline, conclusion, or justification for existing outside of Larry being unable to let go of his concern that there’s a dead (or dying) fish in the tank. Much of the season feels peppered with these head-scratching moments that amount to nothing during a ten-episode stretch where every second counts. It almost feels like Larry David’s decision to call it a night with this season made him realize that he’s lost his podium to share all of the absurd, silly ideas in his head with the world, and so he had to shove as many into these episodes as possible. When that isn’t the case, Season 12 is stuffed with dated references and humour, from a quarrel based on Worldle etiquette to a call back to Will Smith slapping Chris Rock at the Academy Awards (both are years past their best-by date), amongst numerous other instances (but you get the picture).
Curb Your Enthusiasm’s final season is full of dated references and peculiar comedy that makes the long-running classic end on what feels like a fumble.
Season 12 is as contrived as the previous season is, which is a major letdown. The storylines are so forced to work that they get quite frustrating to watch. An example is in “The Dream Scheme”, where Larry is asked by a fellow member of his golf club to take care of his daughter if he were to die (the golfer has just suffered a stroke and is preparing for the worst). Larry is scheming against Freddy Funkhouser, who has been given a much more favourable request of taking care of antiques, and goes to the house of the golfer and his wife in order to try again to weasel his way out of being a father figure to a child he doesn’t care for. Larry has a minutes-long feud with an acquaintance outside of the house before finally getting in, where Freddy has been for who knows how long. Freddy previously used Larry’s idea to fake “talk” in his sleep and feign having a nightmare, thus having someone overhear their inner thoughts and change their minds about something (a tactic Larry told Jeff [Jeff Garlin] to do to get out of flying with his wife Susie [Susan Essman]). Larry tries to throw Freddy using this tactic under the bus when Susie just happens to appear in the house at the wrong moment and overhear this conversation (and, thus, realize that Jeff lied and Larry is to blame). How would Freddy not have known that Susie was in the house if he had been there for so long? If Susie just walked in at that moment, isn’t that awfully convenient timing that is far too precise to actually make any logical sense (she could have shown up at any second of the day, and that is the very second she pops-in at)? This is only one example, and I feel like I have typed out a tiresome paragraph just detailing the lunacy of this joke.
A couple of storylines this season work, including Freddy dating someone who works for Disney (he thinks she works for the studio as someone of note, whereas she is a princess impersonator at the local Disney store. That is funny). These storylines are fun on their own, but I still don’t feel inclined to ever revisit full episodes because of how much mediocre baggage comes with these few moments of gold. This all leads to the finale “No Lessons Learned”, which quickly reveals itself to be a second chance opportunity at tackling that Seinfeld finale (as if the season dedicated to the fictional Seinfeld reunion wasn’t enough of an effort and a better one at that). What I will say is that “No Lessons Learned”, to me, is the only good episode of the season that I can imagine myself watching again in the future, but even then, this is a good finale and not a great one. It goes toe-to-toe with Seinfeld’s finale in a plethora of ways, from having people Larry’s wronged in the past come back (with the clip-show element brought back) to Larry winding up in prison and remarking on the very first bullshit topic he was harping on about in the first episode of the series (with Seinfeld, Jerry was making an observation about the top button of a shirt in both the first and last episodes; in Curb, Larry won’t drop the topic of the pants tent). This would feel a bit more endearing if so much of the twelfth season was indebted to Seinfeld moments, from being gifted something because you complimented it (like Jack Klompus’ space pen that writes upside down in Seinfeld) to the smell within a car making it undrivable (at least it wasn’t body odour this time, I suppose). There are countless Seinfeld references throughout the season, and virtually none of them (outside of the finale) are better or improve upon the original gags.
In the finale, these Seinfeld references pile up more than ever, and it is the episode’s meta angle that makes them work. Leon, who has avoided Larry’s show until this point, is now binge-watching Seinfeld while Larry is on trial. He despises Kramer and sees him as an unwanted guest who overstays his welcome (hilarious irony) but loves everything else about the sitcom. He worries about the finale and wonders how Larry messed it up, precisely as Larry is scrambling to save his next finale here. In fact, Jerry Seinfeld — as himself — shows up for the trial to show support, and we get a glimpse of what made their previous show so successful: their ability to withstand each other’s ramblings unlike any other. As Larry winds up in jail, it feels like a carbon copy of the Seinfeld finale, until Jerry comes by and saves the day (he spotted a jury member who broke sequestering protocol and had Larry’s verdict considered a mistrial). He gets Larry out of jail, they both realize that the Seinfeld gang getting away with their crimes would have served for a better finale, and Larry gets away with his crimes. On the flight home, all of the mainstays who appeared in the episode (Susie, Jeff, Jerry, and Leon, alongside Cheryl Hines, Ted Danson, and Richard Lewis) wind up in the same row. It’s clear that Jerry is there in place of the late Bob Einstein, who was a riot as Marty Funkhouser, but Jerry fits in nicely for this moment. Susie opens the passenger window, Larry bickers with her about it, and everyone else is blinded by the sun blazing through the window. It’s clear that they will be putting up with each other’s nonsense until the end of time.
That left me wondering: if the point of this final image was to imply that the antics would keep going, wouldn’t it have made more sense for Larry to open the window and be the cause of the discomfort of all those around him (and even Susie could be the one yelling at him to close the window)? If the concept of the episode, season, and show is that Larry doesn’t learn from his mistakes and decisions, I feel like that should have been the final shot: Larry, once again, being Larry. Furthermore — and this is the even bigger problem I have with the finale, which, again, I actually like — let’s be real here. Subjectively, this finale was pretty, pretty, pretty good. It made me laugh, brought in heaps of nostalgia, and was full of Larry and company’s antics for one final romp. Objectively, we have to be honest with ourselves: would this finale work at all without the Seinfeld one existing? If you watch the Seinfeld finale with no context, it’s still an individual, fully realized episode that stands on its own. In fact, I have seen the finale with no context. My family grew up on Friends. We didn’t watch Seinfeld. I discovered the show and how much I love it in my undergrad over fifteen years ago. In high school, we watched the finale in class (it was religion class as we studied moral compasses, I suppose). I still understood it quite thoroughly, even if I barely knew these characters.
For the Curb Your Enthusiasm finale to work to its full potential, you have to have seen the Seinfeld finale, which is a lot worse than you initially think that it is. When else have you needed the context of an episode from another show in order for a finale — a conclusion to a specific show’s story — to work? Of course, both series are Larry David’s, but that doesn’t excuse the reliance. It’s a funny, thought-provoking episode for me: a Seinfeld buff. It’s a treat for me. That doesn’t necessarily make it a strong episode on its own, but I don’t think many of us are willing to have this conversation. At the end of the day, I feel like I’ve been complaining about Curb Your Enthusiasm when the truth is that I actually love this show as a whole. Undeniably one of the funniest shows I’ve ever seen during its prime, I will always cherish the series and will welcome anything Larry David brings my way, even with all of this griping (I swear).
There are also many things that make Season 12 watchable, and they stem from this kind of sentiment: the real Larry David having a heart of gold (compared to his fictional counterpart, anyway). He features his great friends one last time, including the late Richard Lewis who is given many moments to shine even in his state of illness (Lewis is seen sitting in every single shot he’s in of Season 12, and his storylines are based around allowing him to do so, including him in a round of golf as he awaits in a golf cart). Watching Lewis’ final moments in hindsight is heartbreaking, but seeing David open up the opportunities for Lewis to have many zingers and scene-stealing moments is quite something. We see Larry and Susie have a few final screaming matches: a running joke that’ll never get old, given how well they work together. Even though I personally feel like Leon’s shtick has overstayed its welcome (do we know much about him outside of his obsession with sex after all of these years?), his character gets a bit more dimension with the return of Auntie Rae from many seasons before as a reoccurring character (who is lovely in her own right). Many of the cameo appearances feel random and misused, but I’ll spotlight which one worked the best. Of all the comedic faces that showed up, it’s oddly music icon Bruce Springsteen who had me laughing the hardest during his standout episode (I’d gladly watch more Springsteen buffoonery if it was available). His acting is quite likeable, and his matter-of-fact attitude and comedy gave me some of the biggest guffaws all season.
While I’m combing through the season to try and find moments of gold, the truth of the situation is that Season 12 is a mostly bland, occasionally perplexing season with very little reward. Did I enjoy having ten additional opportunities to chill with Larry and “friends” before they say farewell for good? Yes, but also no. I never complained about having new episodes, but I almost always hoped that they would wind up more fleshed out, thorough, and natural as Curb Your Enthusiasm was during its heyday. These felt exactly like what they are: episodes of a comedy classic that are being released once it was inevitable that it was time to go. This time around, the show didn’t quit while it was ahead. Having said that, because of how fluent in these characters and their messes I am, it felt tolerable to watch these episodes so I could at least share these moments with familiar faces. Had I had no context or connection with these characters, or had I tuned in to the show for the first time this season, I don’t know if I’d even care about these episodes whatsoever. Still, it’s sad to say goodbye to a show that gave me many laughs. I just wish the ending was far stronger.
Did Larry David fix the finale that has haunted him for over twenty years? To him, yes. To many, yes. I didn’t think the Seinfeld finale needed fixing myself, but the Curb Your Enthusiasm finale works well enough. At the same time, David’s show saves its best eggs for the finale whilst forgetting that you need the same kind of devotion attributed to the other episodes in order for the whole season to work. I’ll always revisit the show by putting on various episodes at any given moment, but I don’t think any of these last episodes will ever be a part of my rewatches (save for the finale, and, even then, I don’t think it’ll be any time soon). When the biggest laugh Larry David’s given me all year is when he throttled Elmo on the Today Show, that isn’t great news when we consider that this is most likely the last season of any show that Larry David will ever produce. It’s nice to see Larry David just being himself and playing by his own rules because that’s worked so many times before. In that same breath, this was the time for the unhinged show to stick its landing. Larry’s ramblings always used to lead somewhere, but the animated version of himself that was the face of the latter seasons of Curb Your Enthusiasm would keep complaining with no end of sight. This final season essentially does the same thing: it goes off on many tangents without much of an end game in sight. It makes for fine YouTube clips, but not a strong season at all (when, in my opinion, it’s the final season: it should have been the strongest to send off this great show).
Andreas Babiolakis has a Masters degree in Film and Photography Preservation and Collections Management from Ryerson University, as well as a Bachelors degree in Cinema Studies from York University. His favourite times of year are the Criterion Collection flash sales and the annual Toronto International Film Festival.