Larry David and friend return in the 11th season of Curb Your Enthusiasm, on SoHo and Neon now.
OPINION:
Curb Your Enthusiasm has been called a lot of things over its 21 years on our screens. Mostly variations on words like "hilarious", "brilliant" and "a bit shouty". But I'm fairly sure creator/writer/star Larry David's cantankerous sitcom has never been called "therapeutic". Until now.
In a time where we'reall dealing/struggling with a lot of big problems - a dragging lockdown, financial stresses, isolation from friends and family, entrenched political divides and the raging deadly pandemic responsible for all of these things - it's strangely curative to see someone ignoring all that to rail righteously against the little things.
The opening episode of Curb's 11th season (on SoHo and Neon) shows that although the world has completely changed since season 10 wrapped up last March, writer David has kept TV Larry's world much the same.
I don't know about you but I am pretty over the pandemic so I was delighted to quickly see that Covid wasn't going to be the driving force of the season or even just the episode.
There's nods to the pandemic, hand sanitiser plays a key role for instance, but Covid is largely seen from the safety of the rearview mirror. Larry goes to a swish dinner party (which ends badly), heads to his busy golf course (which ends badly), and is the master of ceremonies at a crowded faux-funeral (which - you guessed it - ends badly).
Instead, David uses the elongated running time - episode 1 clocks in at a pleasing 40 minutes - to set up a season arc that sees Larry the victim of extortion. How David gets us there is suitably absurd and, in trademark fashion, highly niggly and roundabout.
Awakened by a bump in the night Larry goes downstairs to find his house burgled and the back door open. Heading out into the yard to investigate he makes a gruesome discovery; a dead body floating in his pool.
Police and paramedics arrive and a friendly officer explains that the thief tripped and bumped his head before falling into the pool where he subsequently drowned. All of which could have been avoided had the pool been enclosed behind a safety fence as required by law.
Panicky and perturbed Larry explains it was like that when he bought the house and that he had no idea of this law. Cutting him a break, the officer lets him off but instructs him to sort it out. Which would be the end of the matter if not for the burglar's brother who is not so understanding about Larry's non-compliance with the safety fence law.
But it's not money he's after. Instead, he happily suggests that his supremely untalented daughter be cast in a starring role in the sitcom Larry's developing for Netflix. When Larry pushes back it's proposed that losing a court battle over the fence, as he most certainly would, could lead to financial ruin and considerable jail time.
It's a wonderfully squirmy scene of passive-aggressiveness as the two dance around the subject as the extortionist's cheerful veneer gradually slides off to reveal the underlying threat and Larry clocks to the inescapable awfulness of his situation.
Of course, this being Curb there's a lot more than just this going on. Like an enthusiastic yet clumsy knitter David is deft at interwining his story threads before tangling them all up together.
In the space of this single episode he weaves in storylines about his advancing age, gets dumped, pursues a dementia patient for money he's owed, teaches returning guest star Jon Hamm some Yiddish and, finally, uncovers and outs a friend as a "Covid hoarder" after stumbling upon his hidden stash of toilet paper and the aforementioned hand sanitiser.
It's masterful storytelling and still, even after all these years, incredibly funny. That after over two decades of making the show David is still finding new and awkwardly outrageous territory to mine for crank-induced laughs and is still clearing the toweringly high bar he's set for himself is, frankly, incredible.
But more than anything this first episode is a healthy and hilarious reminder that we should all try to forget about the big picture for a while and redirect our focus, rage and anger from all the huge, seemingly insurmountable problems of the world and, for a brief moment at least, start sweating the small stuff instead.