Legend or Loser: Does ‘Seinfeld’ Still Hold Up After 10 Years?

Yep: One of the many reasons 'Seinfeld' remains a TV classic: have you ever really watched how Wayne Knight narrows his beady little eyes?
By David Noonan

Why is "Seinfeld," currently running on more than 200 stations across the country, still going strong 10 years after the last original episode aired? Why do I watch it nearly every weeknight at 7:30 and sometimes again at 11? Why are millions still watching and laughing along with me, including my 18-year-old son, who was born in April 1990, before the fragile, four-episode first season (the "glass table" season) had even begun? Why does "Seinfeld," like Elaine Benes, have such great legs? (Why does this article start with so many questions?) There are lots of reasons, actually. I could talk about the great writing, the intricate, interwoven storylines and how … yadda yadda yadda … it's really funny. I could discuss its bicipital nature, the underlying Jerry Seinfeld/Larry David yin/yang, good/evil, light/dark tension that gives the show its unique character. I could even explore the role that trivia plays in the enduring appeal of a sitcom with 180 episodes in the can. (During the first season, what kind of table did jerry have in his apartment?) I could do that, but I'm not going to. Instead, I'm going to examine some of the show's more subtle strengths, the often overlooked and underappreciated elements that are so critical to "Seinfeld's" ongoing success.

There is, for example, the casting. And when I say casting, I don't mean the four principals, who, in my view, rank right up there with the stars of "I Love Lucy," "The Dick Van Dyke Show," "All in the Family" and "Cheers." (Yeah, I know, Jerry's not an actor, but the other three more than compensate for his limitations.) No, I'm talking about the rest of the ensemble. Let me say it plain—no sitcom in the history of television has featured a more talented or memorable bunch of second, third and fourth bananas than "Seinfeld." Period.

The truth is, even we loyal fans can get a little tired of the three yuppie leads and their hipster-doofus buddy nattering on about nothing. But when we do, there are plenty of other great characters to keep us watching, especially the deranged trio of Frank Costanza (Jerry Stiller), Estelle Costanza (Estelle Harris) and Newman (Wayne Knight). How deeply disturbed these folks are, how extraordinary the actors who bring their pathologies to life. With perfect timing, inspired line readings (just try to predict when Stiller is going to start screaming; count the many ways Harris can say "George") and physical craft (see Newman narrow his beady eyes like a silent-movie villain), they add a deep and essential layer of psychosis to the show.

Less prominent but no less worthy of attention are Jerry's father, Morty (Barney Martin); his mother, Helen (Liz Sheridan); his shoplifting Uncle Leo (Len Lesser); Elaine's boss J. Peterman (John O'Hurley), and Kramer's attorney, Jackie Chiles (Phil Morris). It's incredible to see how totally these actors commit to their nutty roles. Even bit parts on the show, like Philip Baker Hall's Lt. Bookman, the library cop, become master classes in lunacy.

Another reason the show has held up as long as it has, I think, is the variety and quality of the sets. And again, I'm not talking about the two main sets—Jerry's bland apartment or that boring coffee shop they hang out in. I mean all the other places we go when we watch, like George's parents' house in Queens, a perfect little domestic hell, with its stuffed couch, polished coffee table and hideous knickknacks. Or Newman's cluttered apartment, the postman's lair, where he cavorts with Kramer's mother and soaks his feet after a long day delivering mail. (Yuck.) Also, thanks to the fanatical attention to detail, you get that perfect combination of ridiculous plots and realistic sets. When Jerry and Elaine go to the bakery to buy a chocolate babka or the gang spends the weekend in the Hamptons (think "shrinkage"), it looks like they're buying a babka and hanging out in the Hamptons.

Although it's about four friends in New York in the '90s, "Seinfeld's" best jokes have almost nothing to do with all that, another reason it endures. The contamination of Jerry's car by a parking valet's lethal BO, Kramer's finding the old Merv Griffin set and turning his apartment into a talk show, the invention of the Mansiere. These are timeless absurdities. And here's another one: it's 2008 and we're still watching.

© 2008