In the first season of The Rehearsal, Nathan Fielder introduced us to his absurdist experiment of trying to reliably predict the human psyche. Whether the show was a sly but damning satire of our cultural obsession with reality television, or just a well-funded exercise for Fielder to pressure test how far he can take a bit, only Fielder knows. Regardless, it was a compelling and very funny examination of the futility of a human trying to orchestrate destiny when the only consistent truth about human beings is their inconsistency.
Where do you go after such intense, micro navel-gazing? Well, it seems as though Fielder’s gaze has shifted to the heavens, specifically aviation safety. Season two of The Rehearsal opens in a cockpit during a flight where a stubborn pilot is being gently prodded by his concerned co-pilot to adjust their landing position because they’re off course. The pilot’s adamance that he’s right results in an abrupt crash, where the camera pans to see Fielder standing against a simulator wall filled with flames like the devil himself. It’s so archly ominous, how can you look away?
“Gotta Have Fun” kicks off in earnest at an Aviation Technical Complex led by Fielder’s signature flat narration style as he explains that he’s trying to gain the trust of a “serious” retired (unnamed) NTSB safety expert to be on his comedy show. Fielder says he’s genuinely seeking this expert’s help to investigate an issue that he’s discovered while studying commercial aviation crashes. After orchestrating that the gentleman gives an aviation safety lecture to college students, Fielder approaches him afterwards to talk about the mountains of crash data and black-box transcripts he’s found that reveal a recurring pattern of communication problems in the cockpit. Then, in a series of reenactments of cases from around the world, Fielder has actors recreate some of those cockpit conversations, all of which feature a co-pilot deferring to an unflinchingly adamant pilot with catastrophic results.
The NTSB expert agrees with Fielding’s findings and admits that it’s a known issue that’s been ignored by the FAA powers that be. And when he was employed there, he even suggested that, in order to get first officers to speak up without fear of reprisal from their captains, they should train them with role-playing exercises.
From that comment, a cartoon light bulb might as well pop up over Fielder’s head as he immediately suggests that he has the resources, the money (HBO’s), and vast experience with elaborate role-playing scenarios to make that happen. Well, in theory he does. Because Fielder then goes for a walk in a park to voice-over ruminate about whether HBO will invest in something this serious for a comedy show. He even points out that, 10 minutes into this very episode, there have been “zero laughs” until the camera pans to a fully made up party clown stuck under the wheel of his garish van, begging for help from a crowd of laughing onlookers. Lest we forget, Fielder and writers Carrie Kemper, Adam Locke-Norton, and Eric Notarnicola know how to knock a ridiculous metaphor right on the nose. Fielder ruminates in his hangdog way that he’s got a deficit of credibility: When you’re seen as a joke, that’s all anyone thinks you have to offer.
Of course, Fielder’s path to credibility is to observe an actual regional co-pilot, Moody, to get to know him as a person and follow him through his daily process to see if there’s a way to personally witness this pilot/co-pilot communication problem and find a remedy through his role-play expertise. If the clown didn’t engage your sense of humor, Moody’s affable acceptance of Fielder to observe him in his parent’s home (where he still lives) and even listen in on a speakerphone call with his long-distance girlfriend, will. As they bond, Fielder curls up on Moody’s bed like a bestie teen to grill the guy about whether he’s happy not being closer to her and his almost fait-accompli acceptance that she’s probably going to meet someone else at her Starbucks job and leave him. But “what can you do?” That’s chum in the water for Fielder, who holds onto that submissive stance and marries that to Moody’s revelation that he almost never flies more than once with any captain on his assigned routes.
Bewildered by both, Fielder gets to work on the latter first. He tries to get permission from United Airlines for access to follow Moody into the secured pilot’s room at the airport, where staff wait before flights, so he can first-hand observe what’s going on between co-pilots and pilots. Fielder calls United, and it’s our first inkling of where this is going. He reveals around the corner that, on the other end of the call, is an actor pretending to be a United employee as a practice run. His real call to United gets him no further. And that’s when Nathan goes full Fielder.
He enlists his crack team of Hollywood magicians to construct an exact replica of Moody’s home terminals. Then, Fielder hires 70 actors trained in the “Fielder Method” to shadow a person at the real airport so they can play that person with authenticity in the simulation. When everything is a well-oiled machine, Fielder straps into his MacBook-Pro harness and follows Moody without any security blocks. It’s all as ingenious and demented, as ever.
Inside the sacrosanct pilot’s area, Fielder observes the captain ignore Moody and vice versa. Confused, he questions both the pilot actor and Moody on their behavior. They both confirm that’s how it’s done, based on shadow research and Moody’s experience. Befuddled by their poor communication, it prompts Fielder to ask Moody if he can invite his girlfriend to the simulator set. He’d like to speak with each of them about their relationship individually and use the emotions from their lives to train for the cockpit.
The couple then gear up in airline uniforms for the flight simulator, and Fielder strongly urges Moody to bring up the status of their relationship. He’s determinedly pokes the topical bear they have both avoided—and it’s clear it would have never happened without Fielder’s insistence—so we get to witness them finally say what’s on their minds. It’s moments like these where Fielder’s genius shines through, capturing two people being open in the moment with his camera trained right on them. Yes, it’s voyeuristic and soapy, but it’s also a roundabout way of testing that the pilot/co-pilot communication impasse isn’t rank specific but personality specific.
While the couple’s talk is kind of hilarious and productive, it clearly takes a toll. The two exit the simulator almost silent and more insular than before. More importantly, Fielder has a little epiphany that their reactions might be indicative of why pilots keep to themselves. Maybe they don’t share their inner lives so as not to be distracted on the job. It’s a plausible thesis that seems to send Fielder spiraling, as he wonders in voice-over, “Am I the man for this?” as the circus clown glares at him off set.
Fielder then goes to the library to research coverage of the Wright brothers’ experiments with achieving flight. Turns out, they too were mocked by the public and labeled a joke and that emboldens Fielder’s resolve as he wonders, “Maybe every new idea is funny until it’s proven. Maybe a clown can change the world after all.”
The fact that Fielder conflates his pursuit to the Wright brothers is as ridiculous as you would expect from The Rehearsal. But that doesn’t negate that Fielder may be on to something here, and watching how that plays out this season already feels like a weird kind of appointment TV.
Stray observations
- • Make sure you pay attention to the arc of the clown sequence that plays out as Fielder observes from a far. The gravitas was sending me.
- • Last season, Raising Cane’s was the backdrop for character drama; this season, it’s a Panda Express. And when has Panda ever had daily specials?
- • Move over Meisner technique and Method acting because the Fielder Method has enough graduates to fly 70 of them to populate the faux airport rehearsal space. Does anyone recognize a season-one face?
- • I think it might be in everyone’s interest that those who partake in the Fielder Method are provided hard and fast “this has gone too far” boundaries. Like, don’t knock on the hotel door of your shadow subject pretending you left something in their room. There’s a fine line with stalking, ya’ll.
- • The back-and-forth between Moody and girlfriend in the cockpit is all gold, especially when she rattles off the gifts she gets and he exasperatedly points out that guys don’t just give their Starbucks baristas anklets.
- • The “hug” between Moody and his girlfriend post simulator talks belongs in the Nathan Fielder Awkward Hall of Fame.
