I love Elaine but, you know, in the building.

Seinfeld

2.8: The Apartment

The Premise

Jerry suggests Elaine rents the recently vacated apartment above him, but quickly regrets the idea.

Observational

This was Peter Mehlman’s first script for the series and, while you can see why Larry and Jerry instantly welcomed him into the fold, it’s a patchy affair. The two key plot threads are strong enough (the potential problems of having an ex living in the same building and the idea that a wedding ring is a chick magnet) but there is something of a standardised sitcom feeling to the structure.

Most evident is the awkward inclusion of Jerry’s landlord Harold (Glenn Shadix, of Beetlejuice and Heathers fame) and his partner Manny (Tony Plana). These scenes are clumsily constructed, with Jerry required to leave his apartment several times to engage in a stagey conversation in the hallway. This kind of interaction exposes Seinfeld’s shortcomings as an actor, and the scenes are heavy with dead air.

George’s subplot sees him in full miscalculating, misfiring mode as he decides to wear the aforementioned wedding ring (band) to improve his chances with the ladies (Kramer: You know, I don’t know why you’re fooling around with his ring. I’ve been telling you, get yourself some plugs – or a piece”). He gets to test his theory at a party hosted by one of Elaine’s friends, unsubtly waving his ring about (“Yeah, my wife couldn’t make it today”). Of course, he’s on the receiving end of a string of propositions, if only he weren’t married (“That’s too bad, because I really have a thing for bald guys with glasses”).

His back-and-forth with Jerry over how he is the world’s biggest idiot (“No one’s a bigger idiot than me”) displays classic George perversity; at least he gets to be good at something, even if it’s something not very good.

Elaine’s utters her first “Get out!” of the series as she pushes Jerry in response to the news that not only does she have an apartment but also it is dirt-cheap. Her jubilation over the death of Mrs Hudwalker (“She died!”) is just the kind of remote, empathy-free response the show will become famous for (and conclude with), as the characters put their selfishness front-and-centre without a semblance of moderation.

So Jerry’s reaction, which is underhand in the extreme, might be seen as justice if wasn’t aimed at one of the few people he might be expected to go that extra distance for. Getting cold feet over his idea (“I’ll be here all the time!” Elaine tells him), he is relieved to hear that the price has gone up (extoling a sudden, and brief, belief in a divine plan). Until Kramer volunteers him to lend Elaine the money.

Kramer: Wait, you didn’t want her in the building?

Jerry: No, I didn’t.

Kramer: Well, uh, why did you loan her the $5,000 then?

The solution arrives when Kramer finds someone will to put up $10,000. It’s pretty lowdown and remorseless (as far as we know, Elaine never finds out), and comes across as somehow different to the quartet’s usual misanthropy; his “I love Elaine but, you know, in the building” doesn’t really cut it. As it turns out, the guy who moves in above has regular band practice (Kramer: Oh, I love the one they do right after this one) so Jerry’s no winner (Elaine: Wow, you’re right. That is loud). But even that seems like pat sitcom justice, rather than something really clever.

Kramer is beginning to make more of a splash, putting his foot in it on Jerry’s behalf and then coming up with a solution that only makes things worse. He’s also sporting a different look (“I moussed up”). Jerry is quite ready to insult Kramer (“You see, you’re not normal. You’re a pod”) because he knows he won’t take offence; he really doesn’t perceive things the way everyone else does.

If the episode is a bit of shift down in quality compared to the last few, the stand-up bits are surprisingly good; Jerry’s explanation of why the bridge of the Starship Enterprise is the ultimate male fantasy (it’s the perfect living room, with a big screen TV in the middle), although the mistaking someone as pregnant is over-familiar. When the show actually does this within the story, with Kramer in the driver’s seat, it’s very funny, however.

Quotable

Jerry: She died.

Elaine: She died?

Jerry: She died!

Elaine: SHE DIED!

Elaine: Get out!

Woman: What does she do?

George: She’s an entymologist. Er, you know. Bees, flies, gnats.

George: You have no idea what an idiot is.

Jerry: This is an idiot.

George: Is that right? I just threw away a lifetime of guilt-free sex and floor seats for every sporting event in Madison Square Garden. So please, show some respect. For I am Costanza, Lord of the Idiots.

Verdict:

You were this amazing occidental samurai.

Ricochet (1991) (SPOILERS) You have to wonder at Denzel Washington’s agent at this point in the actor’s career. He’d recently won his first Oscar for Glory , yet followed it with less-than-glorious heart-transplant ghost comedy Heart Condition (Bob Hoskins’ racist cop receives Washington’s dead lawyer’s ticker; a recipe for hijinks!) Not long after, he dipped his tentative toe in the action arena with this Joel Silver production; Denzel has made his share of action fare since, of course, most of it serviceable if unremarkable, but none of it comes near to delivering the schlocky excesses of Ricochet , a movie at once ingenious and risible in its plot permutations, performances and production profligacy.

No one can be told what the Matrix is. You have to see it for yourself.

The Matrix (1999) (SPOILERS) Twenty years on, and the articles are on the defining nature of The Matrix are piling up, most of them touching on how its world has become a reality, or maybe always was one. At the time, its premise was engaging enough, but it was the sum total of the package that cast a spell – the bullet time, the fashions, the soundtrack, the comic book-as-live-action framing and styling – not to mention it being probably the first movie to embrace and reflect the burgeoning Internet ( Hackers doesn’t really count), and subsequently to really ride the crest of the DVD boom wave. And now? Now it’s still really, really good.

Well, something’s broke on your daddy’s spaceship.

Apollo 13 (1995) (SPOILERS) The NASA propaganda movie to end all NASA propaganda movies. Their original conception of the perilous Apollo 13 mission deserves due credit in itself; what better way to bolster waning interest in slightly naff perambulations around a TV studio than to manufacture a crisis event, one emphasising the absurd fragility of the alleged non-terrestrial excursions and the indomitable force that is “science” in achieving them? Apollo 13 the lunar mission was tailor made for Apollo 13 the movie version – make believe the make-believe – and who could have been better to lead this fantasy ride than Guantanamo Hanks at his all-American popularity peak?

We’ve got the best ball and chain in the world. Your ass.

Wedlock (1991) (SPOILERS) The futuristic prison movie seemed possessed of a particular cachet around this time, quite possibly sparked by the grisly possibilities of hi-tech disincentives to escape. On that front, HBO TV movie Wedlock more than delivers its FX money shot. Elsewhere, it’s less sure of itself, rather fumbling when it exchanges prison tropes for fugitives-on-the-run ones.

I can’t be the worst. What about that hotdog one?

Everything Everywhere All at Once (2022) (SPOILERS) It would have been a merciful release, had the title card “ The End ”, flashing on screen a little before the ninety-minute mark, not been a false dawn. True, I would still have been unable to swab the bloody dildoes fight from my mind, but at least Everything Everywhere All at Once would have been short. Indeed, by the actual end I was put in mind of a line spoken by co-star James Wong in one of his most indelible roles: “ Now this really pisses me off to no end ”. Or to put it another way, Everything Everywhere All at Once rubbed me up the wrong which way quite a lot of most of the time.

Drank the red. Good for you.

Morbius (2022) (SPOILERS) Generic isn’t necessarily a slur. Not if, by implication, it’s suggestive of the kind of movie made twenty years ago, when the alternative is the kind of super-woke content Disney currently prioritises. Unfortunately, after a reasonable first hour, Morbius descends so resignedly into such unmoderated formula that you’re left with a too-clear image of Sony’s Spider-Verse when it lacks a larger-than-life performer (Tom Hardy, for example) at the centre of any given vehicle.

So, you’re telling me that NASA is going to kill the President of the United States with an earthquake?

Conspiracy Theory (1997) (SPOILERS) Mel Gibson’s official rehabilitation occurred with the announcement of 2016’s Oscar nominations, when Hacksaw Ridge garnered six nods, including Mel as director. Obviously, many refuse to be persuaded that there’s any legitimate atonement for the things someone says. They probably weren’t even convinced by Mel’s appearance in Daddy’s Home 2 , an act of abject obeisance if ever there was one. In other circles, though, Gibbo, or Mad Mel, is venerated as a saviour unsullied by the depraved Hollywood machine, one of the brave few who would not allow them to take his freedom. Or at least, his values. Of course, that’s frequently based on alleged comments he made, ones it’s highly likely he didn’t. But doesn’t that rather appeal to the premise of his 23-year-old star vehicle Conspiracy Theory , in which “ A good conspiracy theory is an unproveable one ”?

Twenty dwarves took turns doing handstands on the carpet.

Bugsy (1991) (SPOILERS) Bugsy is very much a Warren Beatty vanity project (aren’t they all, even the ones that don’t seem that way on the surface?), to the extent of his playing a title character a decade and a half younger than him. As such, it makes sense that producer Warren’s choice of director wouldn’t be inclined to overshadow star Warren, but the effect is to end up with a movie that, for all its considerable merits (including a script from James Toback chock full of incident), never really feels quite focussed, that it’s destined to lead anywhere, even if we know where it’s going.

He’ll regret it to his dying day, if ever he lives that long.

The Quiet Man (1952) (SPOILERS) The John Wayne & John Ford film for those who don’t like John Wayne & John Ford films? The Quiet Man takes its cues from Ford’s earlier How Green Was My Valley in terms of, well less Anglophile and Hibernophile and Cambrophile nostalgia respectively for past times, climes and heritage, as Wayne’s pugilist returns to his family seat and stirs up a hot bed of emotions, not least with Maureen O’Hara’s red-headed hothead. The result is a very likeable movie, for all its inculcated Oirishness and studied eccentricity.

He doesn’t want to lead you. He just wants you to follow.

Fantastic Beasts: The Secrets of Dumbledore (2022) (SPOILERS) The general failing of the prequel concept is a fairly self-evident one; it’s spurred by the desire to cash in, rather than to tell a story. This is why so few prequels, in any form, are worth the viewer/reader/listener’s time, in and of themselves. At best, they tend to be something of a well-rehearsed fait accompli. In the movie medium, even when there is material that withstands closer inspection (the Star Wars prequels; The Hobbit , if you like), the execution ends up botched. With Fantastic Beasts , there was never a whiff of such lofty purpose, and each subsequent sequel to the first prequel has succeeded only in drawing attention to its prosaic function: keeping franchise flag flying, even at half-mast. Hence Fantastic Beasts: The Secrets of Dumbledore , belatedly arriving after twice the envisaged gap between instalments and course-correcting none of the problems present in The Crimes of Grindelwald .

Now In Full Color, with a Happier Ending

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