‘Fleishman Is in Trouble’ Review: Jesse Eisenberg’s FX Show Is an Introspective Slow Burn

On many levels, I didn’t expect to relate to Fleishman Is in Trouble. For instance, I am not a recently divorced doctor. I do not have two kids, nor do I have a wife who mysteriously disappeared one day, leaving me as a single parent. Also, if we’re being completely honest, I’m tired of sad-com shows about awkward men trying their best. And yet I couldn’t stop pressing play on Taffy Brodesser-Akner’s miniseries based on her novel of the same name. Fleishman Is in Trouble is the rare installment of prestige TV that’s as pretentious as you would expect, while still having something interesting to say.

That declaration works largely due to this dramedy’s tone. As previously mentioned, Fleishman Is in Trouble follows Toby Fleishman (Jesse Eisenberg), a dad on the other side of a contentious divorce. It’s when his relationship with his ex-wife is at its most volatile that Rachel (Claire Danes) disappears, forcing Toby to go from desirable new divorcee back on the market to baffled single parent overnight. Most of the series revolves around Toby adjusting to this whiplash. Yet this story really picks up when Toby reconnects with Libby (Lizzy Caplan) and Seth (Adam Brody), two college friends who knew Toby when he could have been anything, instead of knowing him as a the pitiable man he is today.

Though Toby is our titular character, the series truly finds itself through Libby and, to a lesser degree, Seth. When the three of them are together, Fleishman Is in Trouble is both its most vulnerable and obnoxious. As Libby rants about how theme park fast passes are scams and Toby laments about how hard life is, Seth continuously encourages his friends to ditch their families and jobs to join his life of debauchery. Frankly, they’re all insufferable. But when they’re together, they’re insufferable in the specific ways that most college students are, ways built on the naive hope that once graduation comes, life will magically get better. The only problem is that they’ve been in the real world for years and nothing has changed.

It’s by examining this ultimately toxic addiction to nostalgia that the FX series shines. On some level, the show knows that the “grand truths” Toby, Libby, and Seth spout are nonsense. It understands that Toby is unconvincing as a newfound playboy. He’s also not a particularly compelling hero. He’s fairly static, often choosing to step back and complain rather than try to solve any of him many problems. He should probably be more worried about his disappearing wife or be more aware that his snarky monologues will impact his children. Yet through Libby’s lens as this series’ narrator, those missteps become background noise. Like any loyal college buddy, Libby is determined to see Toby at his best. No contrarian evidence can hold a candle to her memories. It’s in the space between these rose-colored glasses and reality that Fleishman Is in Trouble is at its most interesting.

It’s also this duality that makes Eisenberg the absolute perfect choice for this role. From Zombieland to The Social Network, Eisenberg has built a career on portraying misfits that toe the line between likable and infuriating at best, borderline sociopathic at worst. Toby Fleishman challenges both of those extremes. In some moments, like when he drops everything to be with his children, Eisenberg’s character is deeply relatable. You feel for him and want him to make it through this rough chapter in life. Yet a single cutting remark from Toby about the 92Y is all that’s required to shake that loyalty. In this way, the series constantly asks itself whether or not Toby Fleishman is a good person, and no one is better at making you question that belief than Eisenberg.

Similarly, Caplan is a standout. It’s a blast to see her return to her sneering punk roots, especially since Libby often feels like the adult version of Mean Girls‘ Janis or Party Down’s Casey. The key word in this portrayal is “adult.” For all of Libby’s eye rolls and half-jokes about capitalism, Caplan infuses her latest character with a sense of weariness. Instead of the middle finger-raised rebel she used to be, Libby is an uncertain shadow of that woman. There’s a sense that Libby may not believe her own loud rants, but she’s also not ready to sink into the world of play dates and book clubs. She’s not merely a cool mom stuck in the suburbs. Libby is a woman trapped between who she was, who she is, and who she could become. In the midst of all this uncertainty, Caplan beautifully captures her barely hidden paralysis.

I can confidently write this praise after finishing all eight episodes. That’s the luxury hindsight affords, and it’s also a hinderance when it comes to a narratively experimental slow-burn show like this one. When I first pressed play, I understood none of this nuance and even less about what this story wanted to say. If you’re willing to put in the effort, Fleishman Is in Trouble is a rewarding, intentionally maddening, often sweet experience that asks you to reexamine your own relationship with nostalgia. But in order to get to those depths, you need to watch more than a couple of episodes.

The first two episodes of FX’s Fleishman Is in Trouble premiere on Hulu Thursday, November 17.