Here’s the one thing most people who watch Curb Your Enthusiasm are afraid to admit: They relate with Larry. Yes, the Larry David of Curb Your Enthusiasm is an angry, irritable, fastidious, and selfish human being.
But so are the rest of us.
The difference is that we hide all of our annoyances and flashes of pettiness behind waxen smiles and inane pleasantries so as not to make a faux pas, sour a daily presence, or end up the topic of your enemy’s next cocktail hour. Because, ya know, it sucks to have people upset with you. Even an annoyed cashier can stick with you, causing you to reevaluate every step of the interaction.
And since we’re all the heroes in our own narratives, we’re prone to bending over backwards in justifying whatever bad behavior we just exhibited. But, as in the world of Curb Your Enthusiasm, context never matters in the moment, and first impressions are forever impressions.
Everyone consumes Curb differently. Some are repulsed by Larry, only to be pleasantly shocked when they find themselves agreeing with his disinterest in the Tin Man or relating to his paranoia regarding a friend who hits the bathroom every time a restaurant bill hits the table. Others relate to him more often, which should no doubt make them feel less alone in a world that demands relentless social grace.
These are a collection of moments in which we think Larry’s bad attitude, refusal to conform, or probing “okay” were justified, ones that leave us as apoplectic as Larry in their complete disassociation from relatable human behavior. Because, seriously, would you give Halloween candy to a couple of teenagers who didn’t dress up? Of course you would. Begrudgingly.
Larry speaks for all of us anxious weirdos by doing and saying all the things we’re afraid to. And that’s why we love him.
