Goodbye to All That: Curb Your Enthusiasm‘s Final Season

During Curb Your Enthusiasm’s decades-long run, we’ve seen Larry David lampoon himself for the sake of our laughter. Dick jokes, secondhand embarrassment, and an expert deployment of double entendres have remained a staple of his unique brand of comedy. As he’s gotten older, David has continued to chart the events of his life by infusing humor into his personal stories, and the series finale of his beloved hit show is no different. 

Prostate problems, pointless social obligations, and relationship troubles only further plague David’s fictitious version of himself, especially in his advanced age. From the bedroom to the driving range, we agonize alongside Larry in his woes. We pick up where we last left off in Larry’s romantic life with the highly insufferable Irma Kostroski (Tracey Ullman); she’s a nightmare of a woman. I could’ve done without every minute of her screen time, which is, of course, the point. David’s dynamic with Ullman is like nails on a chalkboard, and her character is the perfect backdrop to accentuate his outlandish reactions at their absolute highest. His disgust only grows from the previous season, which leaves the audience, in David’s expert way, to, if not condone his behaviors and choices, at least understand them. At best (or is it at worst?), we can relate to him. The two-time Emmy award winner is nothing short of masterful in his ability to find the loophole in impropriety and skirt the norms of polite society. 

This season boasts an impressive list of cameo appearances, as well as familiar faces from its supreme cast of recurring characters such as Cheryl Hines, who plays Larry’s ex-wife, Jeff Garlin and Susie Essman, J.B. Smoove as the inimitable Leon Black, plus Richard Lewis and Ted Danson as themselves. In Episode 6, Larry pisses Ted off in one particular scene that’s cause for critical acclaim. Larry’s dynamic with his on-screen best friend and manager Jeff Greene (Garlin) is at its all time high; their energy is electric, palpable, and hilarious. Their antics are no more ridiculous than what we’ve seen in previous seasons, but their fleeting time together leaves us with a pretty, pretty, pretty precious depiction of male friendship at its finest. 

For most of the season, we follow Larry and his gang along on the golf course, and despite the recurring setting, it never feels stale. Rather, the creators imbue a sense of intimacy into the place by adding color via characters who are particular to the environment and depicting the typical kinds of problems one might suffer at a luxury golf club, such as complaints about the food or service. Reflecting his life in his art, Larry spends more and more time at the golf club as Curb Your Enthusiasm progresses, and it’s not difficult for us to imagine that he’ll be spending most of his time here after the final credits roll.

At 76, Larry David has related to viewers with his adversarial pursuit of moral righteousness for his entire career, leaving us to question social norms and perhaps inspiring us to completely disregard them ourselves. The secondhand embarrassment that comes from Larry interacting with others on the show has led us to a cultural revolution, popularizing cringe comedy. We have David to thank for this begrudgingly relatable and subversive style of entertainment, and this season is no different. More so, he reveals a thought-provoking and hilarious account of the state of politics, identity, and compassion in America, sending us off with more than laughs but a call to action.

In a show about eschewing the performance of politeness, Curb Your Enthusiasm ends with a testament to David’s character. Not the caricatured version of his actual personality, but his moral fiber. Although in real life David is the father to two smart and talented daughters, his on-screen persona never had kids, claiming disdain for their goo-laden kind. In this final season, though, we glimpse Larry’s true nature. Sure, he’s rough around the edges but he’s made up of the good stuff: respect, dignity, and a damn good sense of humor. Beneath his callous surface, and as much as he’d deny it, Larry David has one hell of a heart.

Much like Seinfeld, the show that gave David his success, Curb Your Enthusiasm borrows from the absurdist school of thought; the philosophical approach and David are inextricably linked. Absurdism lent itself to the comedic genius of both series, in that life and all its trivialities mean nothing in the face of genuine moral reasoning and common decency. As a mensch and social critic, David holds humanity to a higher standard, and I suspect, in its final episode, Curb Your Enthusiasm will acutely secure its position as one of the finest pieces of contemporary commentary ever made. Although the final season follows plot lines, includes anecdotes, and infuses a sense of nuance that could only take place in the year 2024, it’ll remain timeless. Effortless, affecting, and urgent, the final season of Curb leaves us to ponder just how humankind will fare in the future, considering how David spent his entire career shining a light on the asinine rules society demands we adhere to. Without David challenging them, kvetching, and calling the manager, I’m not sure we’ll survive.

Felicia Reich is an entertainment writer and culture reporter. She lives in Brooklyn with her complex first person perspective, collection of decorative pillows, and insatiable curiosity.