A L S O_.T O D A Y Blue Glow PBS's "Alexander the Great"; "Ally" baby bombshell Y E S T E R D A Y He Got Game Reviewed by Gary Kamiya Spike Lee's soft-hearted but moving tribute to faith, love and basketball (05/01/98) Les Miserables Reviewed by Charles Taylor A high-minded film version of Victor Hugo's epic tale of crime and obsession (05/01/98) R E C E N T_. T E L E V I S I O N Tubbythumping By Joyce Millman Let the Teletubbies bashing begin (04/03/98) Let my people go -- to the movies By Joyce Millman A new cable documentary profiles the Jewish immigrants who founded Hollywood, but lost their cultural identity (03/19/98) Dawson's crock By Joyce Millman Funded by deep-pocket publicity, the puerile "Dawson's Creek" has tricked some TV critics into treating it like a hit (03/16/98) Are you a crystal vase? By Joyce Millman If you can answer these 20 questions, you've watched way too much of the Olympics (02/18/98) Voyage to the bottom of TV By Joyce Millman Salon's TV critic delves down in the drink with the lowest-rated shows on the air (02/04/98) BROWSE THE TV ARCHIVES COLUMNS FEATURES

CHEERIO, "SEINFELD" | PAGE 2 OF 2 1. Because there were no Very Special Episodes. Larry David's "No hugs" edict was never breached. "Seinfeld" was the one sitcom you could count on to never get treacly, to never get too big for its comedy britches and veer into Drama. Nobody learned a lesson here; nobody evolved. However, the characters did devolve, gloriously. Over the past two seasons, Jerry's fastidiousness became (in the words of Elaine) a "full-blown disorder." Meanwhile, Elaine's mid-life bitterness manifested itself in her blanket contempt for every other person on the planet (her superficial, mutually exploitative relationship with on again/off again beau David Puddy was a particularly inspired development). As for George ... Where to begin? "Seinfeld" was fueled by a divine sourness that other sitcoms ("Drew Carey," "Just Shoot Me," "Lateline") have attempted to duplicate, with often crude results. 2. Because a cast like this comes along as often as Halley's comet. The characters may not have matured, but the actors did -- even self-described non-actor Seinfeld got more relaxed and agile as the show went on. One of the pleasures of the past few seasons has been watching Seinfeld's fussy Jerry, Jason Alexander's neurotic George, Julia Louis-Dreyfus' acerbic Elaine and Michael Richards' screwy Kramer feeding off each others' madness with fine-tuned reactions and inflections. "Seinfeld" was the quintessential ensemble comedy; no actor was more or less important than another. When the four of them were in a scene together, it was like watching a melting pot of comedic styles coming to a rolling boil. They cooked. 3. Because it made us feel like insiders. "Seinfeld" was the first sitcom to attain the fervid cult following and the cool, rock 'n' roll idol-like status of a "Monty Python" or a "Saturday Night Live." And that was because "Seinfeld" existed in its own universe and spoke its own language, but assumed we understood. "Seinfeld" rewarded viewers with secret club phrases ("the vault," "master of my domain," "Mulva," "spongeworthy," "No soup for you!"), recurring fringe characters and references to past episodes. It was a trivia buff's dream, a cult for people who usually don't go in for such foolishness. It was all an illusion, of course: Can the No. 1 comedy on TV really be called a cult favorite? But consider these newly minted additions to the "Seinfeld" lexicon: Festivus, Hellooo! "Serenity now," yada, yada, yada. After nine years, "Seinfeld" is still TV's biggest private joke. 4. Because Jerry and Elaine aren't married (so far). How refreshing "Seinfeld" was in the age of such misbegotten ratings ploys (and plot dead-ends) as Sam and Diane pairing off in "Cheers," Murphy Brown as a single mother, the "Mad About You" baby. Jerry and Elaine only rekindled their old sexual relationship once; realizing they still had no chemistry, they went back to being platonic pals. (Some misguided fans want "Seinfeld" to end with Jerry and Elaine getting married. How grisly is that?) Similarly, Louis-Dreyfus' two real-life pregnancies were not written into the show. In fact, her burgeoning belly wasn't even well-hidden the second time around -- viewers were just expected to ignore Elaine's sudden fondness for smocks. OK, it was a little weird seeing a character pregnant with no explanation. But it was infinitely less horrible than the prospect of Elaine Benes as a mother. 5. Because you didn't have to be Jewish to appreciate it, but it helped. All those who believe that Jerry is the only Jewish character on "Seinfeld" raise your hands. The network asked for name changes (Kramer was originally called the more Semitic-sounding "Hoffman") and ethnic vagueness (the Costanzas are not supposed to be Jewish, but we know better). Still, "Seinfeld" was the most successful Jewish-centric sitcom ever seen in prime time, from the guilt-tripping of Uncle Leo ("You couldn't say hello?"), to the deal-seeking of Jerry's father Morty, who was retired from the garment business (he designed the beltless trench coat), to the subtle Jewish pride signaled by Jerry's obsession with Superman (created by two Jews), to the use of rabbis, marble rye breads, anti-Semitism and Jewish singles dances as plot devices. A handful of detractors slammed "Seinfeld" for perpetuating Jewish "stereotypes." They obviously haven't met my family. 6. Because of the food. Every episode of "Seinfeld" included one or more eating scenes and, in many episodes, food played an essential role. There were muffin tops, mutton, Junior Mints, calzones, pudding skin, babka, gyros, crepes, cake, latte, paella, pastrami, mangos, Jujyfruits and Twix. Not to mention Snapple, the Soup Nazi, Kenny Rogers' Roasters, the big salad, Atomic Sub, Chinese takeout and, of course, cereal, lots and lots of cereal. During a decade of extreme diet-consciousness and food phobia, "Seinfeld" was an in-your-face celebration of gluttony. 7. Because of Newman. "Seinfeld" boasted the most impressive sideshow in sitcom history, featuring such well-cast and perfectly drawn supporting players as Jerry Stiller's bellicose Frank Costanza, John O'Hurley's long-winded J. Peterman and Estelle Harris' shrill Estelle Costanza. The biggest scene-stealer (in every way), though, was Wayne Knight as Kramer's friend Newman, the malicious postal worker. Knight, the Ironman of NBC (he's also a regular on "3rd Rock from the Sun"), was a hilarious all-purpose nemesis for Jerry: equal parts empty bluster, sinister greed and sniveling cowardice. He was the Sydney Greenstreet of sitcoms; the Soup Nazi episode, where he sucked up to the take-out food despot and proved to be the perfect Soup Nazi collaborator, was his finest half-hour. Also eminently praiseworthy: Barney Martin and Liz Sheridan as the easily-alarmed Seinfelds, Len Lesser as Uncle Leo, Sandy Baron as temperamental Jack Klompus, Patrick Warburton as dear, dim Puddy, Heidi Swedberg as the ill-fated Susan and Larry David (voice) and Lee Bear (body) as the blustery George Steinbrenner. 8. Because it aimed high. "Seinfeld" packed more dialogue, plot lines and scenes into a half-hour than most comedies tackled in a month. Furiously paced, more than a touch surreal and strewn with dazzling verbal humor, "Seinfeld" was like watching a miniature classic screwball comedy every week. The prime example of how it all came together: the abstinence-from-onanism episode "The Contest," a frantic farce in which the word "masturbation" is never once uttered, but you know exactly what's going on. And the surprise ending, featuring Jerry's girlfriend of the week, Marla the Virgin (a pre-"Frasier" Jane Leeves), is a stroke (no pun intended) of genius. 9. Because it aimed low. "Seinfeld" frequently borrowed from Seinfeld and David's comedy idols, Abbott and Costello; Jerry and George's circular coffee shop conversations derive from "Who's on First?" And there were references aplenty to the Three Stooges, Jerry Lewis and Looney Tunes. "Seinfeld" was not above cartoony clowning, pratfalls, cheap sex jokes or sight gags. The prime example of how it all came together: the scene in "The Contest" where George visits his mother in the hospital and writhes in an agony of pent-up sexual energy while an attractive nurse spongebathes the young woman in the next bed. 10. Because it's making a graceful exit. The classic-episode quotient has been falling for the past couple of years (although I am partial to this season's "The Blood," where squeamish Jerry ends up receiving a transfusion from Kramer after a freak X-acto knife accident -- "I can feel his blood inside me, borrowing things from my blood!"). Too many episodes felt sluggish, or were tied to pop cultural moments that had long past ("Thelma and Louise," "Pulp Fiction"). You only have to look at the creaky "Murphy Brown" (finally calling it quits in this, its 10th year) or remember the last moribund seasons of "All in the Family" (when it was called "Archie Bunker's Place") to appreciate Jerry Seinfeld's desire to go out on top. This is the right decision, to end "Seinfeld" while it still matters, while it still has some life left in it. On the upside, "Seinfeld" is going to run forever in syndication. On the downside, there will never be another like it, ever. It was the master of its domain. SALON | May 4, 1998 - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Joyce Millman's column appears every other week in Salon Entertainment.