"Gotta support the team!"
If you heard those words shouted in a deep, vibrating baritone while a man with a painted face loomed over a terrified priest, you’ve experienced "The Face Painter." It’s season six, episode 23. It's late-era Seinfeld at its most absurd and aggressive. When people talk about the "show about nothing," they usually mean the dry, observational humor of the early seasons, but "The Face Painter" represents the moment the show leaned fully into the chaos. Patrick Warburton’s portrayal of David Puddy in this specific episode changed the trajectory of the series, turning a guest spot into one of the most iconic recurring characters in television history.
Honestly, it’s the eyes. Warburton doesn't blink. He just stares with this vacant, terrifying intensity that makes you wonder if David Puddy is actually a functioning human or just a collection of sports statistics and motor oil.
The Night the Devils Came to New York
The premise is deceptively simple. Jerry gets free tickets to a Stanley Cup playoff game between the New Jersey Devils and the New York Rangers. He brings Elaine, Kramer, and Elaine's then-boyfriend, David Puddy. Everything seems normal until Puddy shows up with his face painted bright red and green. He isn’t just a fan; he’s a zealot.
It wasn't just a gag. This episode tapped into a very specific kind of 1990s sports culture. Back then, "face painting" was transitioning from something children did at carnivals to something grown men did to express a borderline-unhealthy devotion to professional hockey. When Puddy screams at a priest from the window of a car, the humor comes from the juxtaposition of a religious figure and a man who has literally turned himself into a demon for the sake of the NHL.
What’s wild is how the writers—Larry Charles and the team—used the paint to highlight the fragility of Elaine’s relationships. Elaine is a "face-painter" hater. She can’t handle the lack of dignity. But Puddy? He doesn't care about dignity. He cares about the Devils. This conflict isn't just about makeup; it’s about the realization that the person you are dating has a secret, bizarre inner world that you can never truly understand.
Why Warburton’s Performance Works
Most actors would have played the face painter role with high energy. They would have been bouncing off the walls, screaming like a "bro." Warburton did the opposite. He played Puddy with a flat, monochromatic stillness. That’s why it’s funny. When he says, "Yeah, that’s right," it’s not a catchphrase—it’s a philosophical stance.
His performance is a masterclass in deadpan. Think about the scene in the car where he just sits there, face completely red, staring straight ahead while Elaine tries to have a rational conversation about the "demonic" nature of his appearance. He doesn't move. He doesn't twitch. He’s a statue of fandom.
Critics and fans often rank this as one of the top five episodes of the entire series. Why? Because it breaks the "no hugging, no learning" rule by replacing it with "no logic." There is no logical reason for Puddy to scare a priest, yet he does it because he’s "supporting the team." It’s the ultimate expression of the Seinfeld ethos: people are petty, obsessive, and ultimately unchanging.
The Cultural Impact on Hockey Fandom
You might not know this, but the New Jersey Devils actually leaned into the joke. For years after the episode aired, Patrick Warburton was a regular fixture at the Prudential Center. He would show up, paint his face, and rip his shirt off to reveal a giant "D" on his chest.
It’s one of those rare moments where a sitcom actually influenced the real-world culture it was parodying. The Devils' "mascot" in the minds of many fans wasn't a literal devil—it was David Puddy. Even today, if you go to a hockey game in Newark, you’ll see guys in their 40s with painted faces, still quoting lines from a show that went off the air decades ago. It’s a testament to how deeply that specific image—the red face, the squinting eyes—is burned into the American psyche.
Fact-Checking the "Demon" Incident
Let's look at the specifics of the priest scene. The character is Father Gropulli. The joke relies on the fact that Puddy is a "Devils" fan, and he looks like an actual devil. When he shouts "El Diablo! Dios mio!" at the priest, it's a perfect comedic storm.
Some fans mistakenly believe this was Puddy’s first appearance. It wasn't. He appeared earlier in "The Fusilli Jerry," but he was just a mechanic then. "The Face Painter" is the episode that defined him. It took him from "Elaine’s boyfriend who likes cars" to "the guy who might be insane." It also established the weird, on-again-off-again dynamic between him and Elaine that would carry through to the series finale.
They break up because of the paint. They get back together because... well, because Elaine is as shallow as he is. That’s the genius of the writing. She doesn't want him to stop being a fanatic; she just wants him to stop embarrassing her in public.
The Technical Side of the Paint
People often ask about the makeup used in the episode. It wasn't some high-end Hollywood prosthetic. It was standard greasepaint. Warburton has mentioned in interviews that it was a nightmare to get off. He had to scrub his face for hours. You can actually see the texture of the paint on screen; it’s thick, clumpy, and looks like it would stain a sofa instantly.
That grittiness adds to the humor. It doesn't look professional. It looks like a guy did it in his bathroom while drinking a beer. It’s authentic to the character. Puddy wouldn't go to a professional; he’d buy a kit at a party store and do it himself in the rearview mirror.
Dissecting the "Support the Team" Philosophy
Basically, Puddy is the most honest character on the show. Jerry, George, and Elaine are constantly lying to themselves and others. They create elaborate social ruses. Puddy? Puddy is exactly who he says he is. If he likes the Devils, he paints his face. If he likes Arby’s, he eats Arby’s. If he wants to stare at the back of a seat on a plane for eleven hours, he does it.
The "Face Painter" episode is the first time we see this radical honesty. It’s jarring to the other characters because they are so used to the "social dance." Puddy doesn't dance. He just stands there, red-faced, wondering why everyone else is making a big deal out of it.
What You Can Learn from David Puddy
If we’re being totally honest, there’s a weird kind of lesson in Puddy’s madness. Not a "good" lesson, but a lesson nonetheless.
- Commitment is everything. If you’re going to do something weird, do it 100%. Don't half-paint your face.
- Don't apologize for your hobbies. Puddy never feels bad about the paint. He feels bad that the team lost (or might lose).
- Know your audience. Maybe don't scream at priests while dressed as a demon. Or do. It’s a free country.
The Legacy of Season 6
Season six is often called the "transitional" season. It’s where the show started moving away from the grounded reality of the early years and into the "cartoonish" brilliance of the later years. "The Face Painter" is the bridge. It’s grounded in a real setting (a hockey game) but features a character who is fundamentally absurd.
Without this episode, we don't get the later versions of Puddy. We don't get the 8-ball jacket. We don't get the "high five." We don't get the "man-fur." It all started with that red greasepaint.
It’s also one of the few episodes where Kramer feels like the "sane" one for a portion of the runtime. He’s the one trying to manage the tickets and the social dynamics, while Puddy is off in his own world. When Kramer is the voice of reason, you know the world has gone sideways.
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Taking Action: How to Revisit the Magic
If you want to truly appreciate what Warburton did here, you have to watch the episode with the sound off for a few minutes. Just look at his physical acting. The way he holds his shoulders, the way he tilts his head—it’s all about becoming an object rather than a person.
- Watch "The Face Painter" (S6, E23) and focus specifically on the scene in the car after the game. Notice how long he holds his gaze without blinking.
- Compare it to "The Dealership" (S9, E11). See how the character evolved from a sports fanatic to a man obsessed with "the high five" and Twix bars.
- Look for the "Easter Eggs." In the background of several scenes, you can see the Rangers fans' genuine reactions to Warburton. Some of those people weren't extras; they were real fans at a real game who were genuinely confused by the giant man with the red face.
The "Face Painter" isn't just a funny character. He’s a reminder that Seinfeld was at its best when it took a small, relatable social annoyance—like an overzealous sports fan—and dialed it up to eleven until it became something surreal and unforgettable. Puddy didn't just support the team; he supported the idea that being yourself, no matter how weird that self is, is the ultimate way to live. Even if it means scaring a few priests along the way.