I realized that after the epic double-parter that is "The Boyfriend," there are only six episodes left, so I'm just going to concentrate on this episode this week so I can have complete sets for the last two weeks. We're so close to the end of season three! It's very emotional!
One of the many reasons Seinfeld was the number one show of its day was its repeated ability to worm its way into the zeitgeist, with its catchphrases, the characters' little foibles, and the exaggerated, but true-to-life situations they'd find themselves in. Now, the show didn't really become a ratings juggernaut until its fifth year, but "The Boyfriend" is one of those true zeitgeist-y episodes that everyone still remembers, one of the first big ones.
It doesn't matter that Keith Hernandez was part of the 1986 World Series-winning Mets, or that he's still on TV most every day as an announcer for Met games. I bet if you stopped every New Yorker (of a certain age) on the street and asked them what they thought about when you say "Keith Hernandez," most of them would mention Seinfeld. Apparently Jerry considers this his favorite episode — I had always liked it, but watching it again in one block, I felt it had most of the problems of a half-hour show doing an hour-long episode, although it's admirable how they seamlessly switch from one plot to the next, sometimes without resolving them, and you don't even notice.
"The Boyfriend" and its take on the "bromance" years before Brody Jenner named a TV show after it probably felt a lot, lot fresher in 1992, as, I'm sure, did its spoof of the film JFK. The bromance stuff, though, still works very well because outside of the obvious jokes (Jerry whining like a girl about whether Keith is going to call him back) a lot of rules about the progression of a male friendship are laid out. Particularly contentious is Keith's request that Jerry help him move furniture on only their second man-date. "Don't you have any pride, or self-respect?" Kramer demands when he hears the news.
Hernandez is no great comedian, but I like the deadpan quality he brings to the list of furniture he needs Jerry to help him move. There's not just one couch, there's TWO, and one has the tendency to unfold, and the other is a twelve-piece sectional, and so on. It's an oldie but a goodie to have the list of items that, with each additional detail, stretches the limits of credulity just that much more. Hernandez doesn't blink during the ever-expanding list, and Seinfeld does well to build his hysteria until they break up.
That scene is great, but his other scenes with Jerry are a bit draggy, as is Jerry's kvetching to Elaine about how Keith doesn't pay enough attention to him. "If he's calling in a month, he's got a prayer," he whines. But Keith's brief romance with Elaine, sadly discarded all-too-quickly because he's a heavy smoker, is much funnier. How funny would it have been to just keep him around as her occasional boyfriend, popping up for brief appearances now and then? He's retired, it's not like he had anything else to do.
I think his internal monologue in the car with Elaine is often cited as the episode's highlight, and even though Hernandez's delivery is flat, it's still very funny. "I'm a baseball player, dammit! I won the MVP in '79, I can do whatever I want to!" he thinks. Then, finally, once he makes the move, he reminds himself, "I'm Keith Hernandez." It's funny not only that he's patting himself on the back about this, but also that he had that moment of self-doubt we all have (and that Jerry has earlier in the episode). But while the rest of us might have to dig deeper for that boost of self-confidence, he just has to remember, hey, he's Keith Hernandez.
Everything else that the characters get up to (and there really is a lot) ties vaguely into the main Keith plot. George, seeking an extension on his unemployment, stretches his lying abilities as far as he can take them, first claiming that he was this close to a job at Vandelay Industries (what business are they in? Latex, "latex salesman, the selling of latex, and latex-related products"). That is dashed by Kramer's outrage at someone calling Jerry's apartment asking for Vandelay — I love Kramer's incredulousness at the ruse, but George's underwear pratfall is maybe taking things a step too far. Then George attempts to woo the frumpy daughter of his unemployment officer (Carol Ann Susi, who's played this character in everything) but even she rejects him for having no prospects.
It's good that what finally defeats George is something he can plausibly deliver on. He may not be actively looking for work, and he was never going to last forever with the daughter, but with enough wheeling-and-dealing, he might convince Keith Hernandez to come see the unemployment officer, who's a big fan. Of course, this coincides with Jerry's big breakup, so no dice. But for all of George's lies, it's an (exaggerated) truth that brings him down for good. Still, watching him lie (especially where he pretends he's entranced by the picture of the daughter) is always like watching a musician compose a symphony.