Jerry Seinfeld, always tanned, sporting impeccably ironed shirts and jackets, and freshly laundered teeth, is looking more like a retired sportsman than a comedian these days. I cannot put my finger on the specific sport but if I had to pick one, I would hazard one combining cars, self-satisfaction and razor-sharp wit. Hold on, that’s the show he presents these days: that alliterative compendium of Americana called Comedians in Cars Getting Coffee. I don’t expect I need to tell you the formula for this programme but for those slow on the take, let’s just say that it is NOT called Tragedians in Trains Drinking Tea and let you work out the rest.
You won’t find a smuggest show anywhere, if viewers could read Jerry and his guests’ thoughts in comic book-style thought bubbles they would routinely see things like, “You are funny. I am FUNNIER than you. We are both EXTREMELY rich and successful but also hyper aware of the rich IRONY implicit in all the above.” Fortunately, the show is also as sharp, short and addictive as a good shot of espresso. And often times the clown points the finger at the naked emperor and forces everybody to finally see they are looking at his bare ass. Take Chris Rock’s observation about fancy dining in Season Two.
“Everything is about company. A gourmet meal with an asshole is a horrible meal; a hot dog with an interesting person is an amazing meal.”
So now you know, when it comes to dinner, people come before food. Strike that, make it when it comes to life: always put people first and you won’t go wrong.
A Fistful of Olives 