Jerry Stiller, who died today at age 92, leaves behind a legacy that’s virtually unparalleled among living entertainers. In his 65-plus year career, he established himself as a star comedian (one half-of the husband-wife duo, Stiller and Meara), an accomplished stage actor (appearing in shows such as Terrence McNally’s The Ritz and David Rabe’s Hurlyburly), and a distinguished presence onscreen (his 100+ credits included everything from The Taking of Pelham One, Two, Three to Zoolander). But it was his recurring role as Frank Costanza on Seinfeld—and as that character’s spiritual offspring, Arthur Spooner, on the subsequent New York sitcom King of Queens—where he fully honed his trademark: the volatile, force-of-nature father.
No one was a better yeller. No one was a better gesticulator. And no one was a more unorthodox line reader. Those are some of the qualities that, in the view of longtime Seinfeld writer Jeff Schaffer, made him not just a fan favorite, but an on-set liability. “That’s how I’ll remember Jerry—so many times being on set and having tears in my eyes from laughing, and saying, ‘Okay, we're going to be here a while,’” Schaffer says. “Because no one could look this guy in the face while he's doing this stuff and not laugh.”
Before being hired as a writer in 1994, Schaffer was simply a fan of Seinfeld. And like many other fans, Frank Costanza was one of his favorite characters to quote ("You got the rooster, the hen, and the chicken. The rooster goes with the chicken. So who's having sex with the hen?"). For a character who appeared in fewer than 30 of 180 episodes of the show, Frank Costanza was responsible for an outside number of the show’s indelible moments—Festivus, the mansierre, Serenity Now. And once Schaffer joined the show, Stiller’s unique delivery made him a “dream” to write for. “When you have this cast that's the funniest cast on television and this person comes in and just keeps assassinating them, you have to have respect for that person.” Here, Schaffer takes us through what it was like to write for Jerry Stiller, some favorite Frank Costanza memories, and elaborates on what made the man so special.
GQ: I'm sorry for your loss.
Jeff Schaffer: It's the comedy world's loss. It's not what you want to wake up to on a Monday morning.
As sad as it is, it's brought me a lot of joy digging into all of Jerry’s great moments.
Larry [David] and Alec [Berg] and I were on a chain just circling through some great moments. So it was actually really sweet and fun.
Were there any that especially stood out to you?
Here's the thing: Every day that Jerry was on set was a great day. He had such a unique cadence. It was like his volume control had no surge protector. So there would be quiet times punctuated with these sporadic eruptions. And his timing was so unique and so goddamn funny. He made us laugh so hard.
But the person that he just slayed was Julia [Louis-Dreyfus]. Julia could not keep a straight face when she was in a scene with him. I remember during the episode "The Little Kicks," where George is the bad boy and his dad had to come take him home, Jerry had a scene with Julia, and he was yelling at Julia, and you can see her trying to hold it in but her side is useless. And then he says it again, and the dam breaks. It took so many takes. It might've been the scene that took more takes than any I had seen on Seinfeld. Because once she starts laughing, everyone's a goner.
Was he able to keep it together? Did he realize how funny he was being?
I think both. He knew exactly how funny he was being and he was able to keep it together. There's a strength that comes when you know you're killing. His lines were said in such a serious way and he was doing them so well, so you're powerless. There's still stuff we say to this day. The one that's on infinite repeat in my mind even though I wasn't there yet, was "You got the rooster, the hen, and the chicken. The rooster goes with the chicken. So who's having sex with the hen?" The way he did it with his hands, we used to literally do it whenever we were together; it was so goddamn funny.
And then obviously, Jerry (Frank) talking to George about bra sizes. Just the surety of, "You've got the A, the B, the C, and the D. That's the biggest." Those were things that just as a pure fan that I loved.
There are so many. A favorite of mine is “the stop short."
Everyone thinks about his voice and how he was able to chop lines up so brilliantly, but his physical gestures make those deliveries even funnier. The way he shifts the gearstock and puts his hand up—"I stop SHORT!"—is just so damn funny. It would be funny if he just said it and it would be funny if he just did the thing, but when you put them together, it's lethal.
I saw Jason Alexander say in an interview that Jerry's cadence was that way because he was remembering the lines as he went.
Possible. But he had such control over it. It could not have been that random and been that brilliant. I think he was just giving us a master class.
How did you go about writing for him, given that he had such a unique cadence?
Well that's the dream! The dream of working on the show was that you had actors, whether it's Jason or Julia or Jerry, who were taking your lines in directions you never thought they would go. And they were better. And then you know what works, and you write to what works. And the way he delivered really worked.
Once you knew how he worked, did he still surprise you?
Every time. Pauses in different places. Quiet in different places. Louder in different places.
And at lunch one day, Danny O'Keefe started talking about this tradition that his father made him do instead of Christmas—this whole Festivus thing he and his brothers had to endure—and Alec and I just looked at each other. Because we knew how great that was going to be for Frank. We said to Danny, "You know we're doing this on the show, right?" And he goes, "No one's going to want to see that." And I go, "Danny, you can write the script with us, or you can watch it on television, but we're doing it." It was such a great opportunity to have Jerry shine. An airing of grievances? Who could ask for anything better for Jerry Stiller?
Is there anything specific that stands out from creating that episode?
Well, Julia was also at that dining room table. "I got a lot of problems with you people and now you're going to hear about them.” That scene also took forever. You couldn't stand there and get yelled at by him and not laugh. His wild gesticulations. He was so intense about it. Him getting to just yell at everybody for a Christmas episode was a golden opportunity. And his amazing performance is what immortalized Festivus. So Danny O'Keefe's most private shame is now on public display, and it's evergreen. I just sent Danny some Festivus maple syrup for Christmas this year.
I know Jerry joined the show before you did, but do you have a sense of how he built that character?
That's way more of a Larry David question, as Larry took, I'm sure, snippets of his own childhood and molded the character into Frank Costanza. But there were people, like Steve Koren (who came in during one of the later seasons) who had their Frank Costanza dads. That's where "Serenity Now" came from—Steve Koren's dad actually screaming, "Serenity Now!"
As a fan of comedy, do you have a sense of Jerry’s legacy and the impact he'll leave?
I think he was so brilliant for so long and in such varied areas that people don't realize how important he was in the comedy legacy. You may see him as just this or just that, but when you take all of his work together and see all the different things he was able to do, you realize, "This guy was a genius."
This interview has been edited and condensed for clarity.
For GQ's February cover, writer Brett Martin ventures into the peculiar alternate reality of Larry David to talk Seinfeld, the 10th season of Curb Your Enthusiasm, and self-actualization.
