On the sun-dappled shores of Martha's Vineyard, a friendship built on shared summers and borrowed gym equipment quietly collapsed under the weight of moral reckoning. Larry David, the comedian who has made a career of excavating social discomfort, found himself unable to extend the same ironic detachment to real life when his neighbor Alan Dershowitz chose to defend Donald Trump — a choice David has since called a deal with the devil. The estrangement between these two men is less a celebrity feud than a parable about the cost of professional allegiance in an age when whom you defend defines w
Larry David says Dershowitz 'made a deal with the devil' as Trump's lawyer
He made a deal with the devil. Literally.
What made David finally speak up about this after years of silence?
He didn't want to. He was reading the Atlantic piece and saw that Dershowitz had mentioned his dead son, and David felt something—regret, maybe guilt. He almost let it soften him. But then he had to add the next day what he really thought.
The "deal with the devil" phrase—is David saying Dershowitz sold out his principles, or something else?
Both. It's about representing Trump, yes, but also about the whole arc: Epstein, Weinstein, Simpson, Trump. At some point, David thinks, you're not a lawyer defending clients anymore. You're something else. You've made a choice about who you are.
Dershowitz seems genuinely hurt by the loss of the friendship. Does David care about that?
He does, which is what makes his follow-up call so complicated. He regrets not reaching out about the son. But regret isn't the same as forgiveness. He can feel sorry for Dershowitz and still think he deserves what's happened to him.
Why does David bring up the impeachment specifically at the end?
Because that's when it all crystallized. That's when Dershowitz became Trump's lawyer in a way that couldn't be walked back. Everything before was a career. That was a choice.
Do you think they'll ever talk again?
Not really. David's last line—"the devil hasn't said a word to him since the impeachment"—that's not an opening. That's a closing.
Il Polso
- A grocery store encounter in 2021 crystallized years of quiet moral distance into a single, devastating word: 'disgusting.'
- Dershowitz's roster of clients — Trump, Epstein, Weinstein, Simpson — had accumulated into something his former friends could no longer look past.
- David briefly softened upon learning of Dershowitz's son's death, admitting regret for his silence, offering a rare glimpse of vulnerability beneath the confrontation.
- But within a day, David called the magazine back to sharpen his verdict: the ostracism, he insisted, was entirely self-inflicted.
- Dershowitz, now a Republican and freshly defeated in a $300 million defamation suit against CNN, finds himself increasingly isolated from the world he once inhabited.
On the sun-dappled shores of Martha's Vineyard, a friendship built on shared summers and borrowed gym equipment quietly collapsed under the weight of moral reckoning. Larry David, the comedian who has made a career of excavating social discomfort, found himself unable to extend the same ironic detachment to real life when his neighbor Alan Dershowitz chose to defend Donald Trump — a choice David has since called a deal with the devil. The estrangement between these two men is less a celebrity feud than a parable about the cost of professional allegiance in an age when whom you defend defines who you are.
Larry David and Alan Dershowitz were the kind of friends who borrowed each other's gyms and shared summer dinners on Martha's Vineyard — until 2021, when David walked past Dershowitz in a grocery store and, when pressed to talk, told him simply: "You're disgusting." The trigger was Dershowitz's decision to join Donald Trump's legal defense team during the first impeachment trial, a choice that, for David, crossed a line that friendship could not survive.
Dershowitz spoke about the rupture with evident hurt in a 2022 New Yorker interview, recalling how David had been a regular presence in his home. For years, David stayed publicly silent on the matter. Then, in a new Atlantic profile, he finally addressed it — with characteristic self-deprecating wit, noting he only picks confrontations he thinks he can win.
The piece took an unexpected turn when Dershowitz mentioned that David had not reached out after the death of his son Elon, who died from a stroke at 64. David, reading this, felt something shift. He expressed genuine regret, even quoting his own show: "I think of nice things. I just don't act on them."
But the next day, David called the magazine back. Whatever sympathy had surfaced, it had limits. Dershowitz, he said, had made a deal with the devil — literally — and had only himself to blame for the isolation that followed. The verdict was delivered without cruelty, but without softness either.
Since the impeachment, Dershowitz has left the Democratic Party after decades, joined the Republicans, and watched the Supreme Court reject his bid to revive a $300 million defamation suit against CNN. The legal fights press on. The friendships do not.
Larry David and Alan Dershowitz were neighbors on Martha's Vineyard for years, the kind of friends who worked out in each other's gyms and showed up for summer dinners. Then, in 2021, something broke. David walked into a grocery store, Dershowitz greeted him, and David turned away. When Dershowitz asked if they could talk, David's response was sharp: "No. You're disgusting."
The collapse of their friendship had a clear trigger. Dershowitz, a former Harvard law professor, had joined Donald Trump's legal defense team during the president's first impeachment trial in 2020. For David, the creator of Seinfeld and Curb Your Enthusiasm, this was a line crossed. By 2021, when the grocery store confrontation happened, Dershowitz's legal career had already accumulated a particular weight: he had represented Trump, Jeffrey Epstein, Harvey Weinstein, and O.J. Simpson at various points. Each client added another layer to how people like David saw him.
Dershowitz felt the sting of the rejection. In a 2022 interview with the New Yorker, he recounted the moment with visible hurt, noting that David had been a regular presence in his home. "Here's a guy who used to come to our house to work out in the gym," he said. "He would come to our house for dinner two or three times a summer." The friendship, from Dershowitz's perspective, had simply evaporated.
For years, David said nothing publicly about the incident. But in a new Atlantic profile of Dershowitz published this week, David finally spoke. He framed the confrontation with characteristic self-awareness: "I have lots of confrontations on my show but rarely in life. And then only if I think I can take them in a fight. Hence the Dershowitz dust-up." The comment was light, almost deflecting, but it acknowledged what had happened.
Then the conversation shifted. Dershowitz mentioned in the Atlantic piece that David had not reached out when Dershowitz's son Elon died from a stroke the previous year at age 64. David, reading this, felt something move. "I'm starting to feel a little sorry for Dershowitz, certainly because of his son," he told the magazine. "I certainly regret not [reaching out]." He even quoted his own show: "As I said on Curb once, 'I think of nice things. I just don't act on them.'" It was a moment of genuine reflection, a crack in the wall.
But the next day, David called the Atlantic back. He needed to add something. "I'm loath to say anything mean because he's been so ostracised," David said. "But he only has himself to blame. He made a deal with the devil. Literally. And I'd bet the devil hasn't said a word to him since the impeachment." The phrase landed hard: a deal with the devil. Not a mistake, not a misstep, but a fundamental moral transaction.
Dershowitz's trajectory since then has only deepened the divide. In April, he announced he was leaving the Democratic Party after decades of support, switching to the Republican Party and calling the Democrats "the most anti-Israel party in US history." In June, the U.S. Supreme Court rejected his request to revive a $300 million defamation lawsuit against CNN over their coverage of his remarks while defending Trump—coverage he claimed had been edited to falsely suggest he "had lost his mind." The legal battles continue, but the friendships, it seems, do not.
Citazioni salienti
He made a deal with the devil. Literally. And I'd bet the devil hasn't said a word to him since the impeachment.— Larry David, on Alan Dershowitz
Here's a guy who used to come to our house to work out in the gym. He would come to our house for dinner two or three times a summer.— Alan Dershowitz, recalling his friendship with David