Fleishman Is In Trouble is a throwback set in the here and now

Fleishman Is In Trouble may be set in the present. (There are jokes about dating on the “apps” and Hamilton, and oblique references to the Orange Nightmare abound.) But FX’s latest show is a throwback, situated in—or stymied by—the 1970s and ’80s, among rich Jews in Upper Manhattan. Horny intellectual Dr. Toby Fleishman (Jesse Eisenberg) is going through a divorce from his icy, careerist wife, Rachel (Claire Danes), and is rewarding himself for years under her thumb by collecting sexual conquests all over town, mostly through his phone. Also, he wants to be a good dad. If you’ve read any of the “Great Male Narcissists” or binged New Hollywood movies on the Criterion Channel, you’ve likely met someone like Toby or his best friend Seth (Adam Brody), who gives off strong Elliott Gould-in-his-prime vibes. Don’t worry, the show is well aware of this. Even the design of the show’s poster invokes the cover art of Erica Jong’s 1973 Fear Of Flying, best known for coining the term “zipless fuck”—in an era before Tinder or Grindr, no less.

A throwback is not a matter of leaning on cliches and tired tales. In fact, “throwing back” is a delicate maneuver. To do so artfully, the showrunner and creative team must dip into an old sensibility, a way of moving through the world that exceeds the trappings of set design and scripted slang. iPhones may be everywhere, but Fleishman still feels firmly rooted in an ancient past, like Woody Allen ancient. The throwback reminds us that, while the material world may be ever in flux, the stories we tell ourselves are stubbornly static.

Fleishman Is In Trouble is a brilliant meditation on those stories: the ones we read and watch that shape us as people, the ones we share with others, never mind the ones we tell ourselves. It can all come out looking like a giant, never-ending cross-over episode. (Remember those? From the heyday of network television? Anyway.)

The series, created by Fleishman novelist Taffy Brodesser-Akner, faithfully translates the structure of the book. (As it turns out, there are three people in trouble, not just the Fleishman of the title.) But the show is also attuned to its literary inheritance in other ways: Fleishman’s New York City is a world of words. Signs, posters, and graphic T-shirts signal all the readings and misreadings to follow. And unlike the elitists in the first season of The White Lotus, these elitists do read, even if the material is unfortunate. While Toby wastes time in a Manhattan bookstore, he leafs through his favorite novel, Archer Sylvan’s 1979 Decoupling, “a Gonzo account of a year in the life of a divorced man … It called out women for changing the rules on men with no warning, because of their vapid women’s lib and their stupid sexual awakenings … What can I say? The book hadn’t aged well.”

These words are spoken by the show’s narrator, Toby’s college friend, Libby Slater Epstein (Lizzy Caplan), a men’s magazine staff writer turned stay-at-home mother of two. A lover of Archer Sylvan and herself, Libby is different from the other girls and proud of it. She watches Toby and Seth with no small amount of jealousy, as they drink and wander the city and hook up, while she goes through the motions with her devoted, disapproving husband, a Ted Mosby type played by Josh Radnor. Early in the series, Libby’s husband remarks, as a neat piece of trivia, “When you’re in space, no matter where you are, you feel like you’re in the center.” It should be noted that, in this moment, Libby is wearing an Apollo 11 graphic tee tucked into her high-waisted jeans. Mark this moment: It rewards close reading.