The accusation some viewers have made is painfully reductive.
I don’t care what anyone says: it’s fun to ridicule the one per cent. Of course, it does nothing to solve the extremely serious issues of wealth disparity and worker exploitation, but it applies a bit of cool relief to that burning sensation many of us feel.
And I’m clearly not alone in thinking that. The satirisation of the upper classes has become a major trend in pop culture lately – from The White Lotus to Knives Out and Triangle of Sadness – with some arguing that Fleishman Is in Trouble also belongs in this category.
The comedy-drama, which landed on Disney Plus in the UK this week, chronicles the failed relationship between Dr Toby Fleishman (Jesse Eisenberg) and his former wife, Rachel (Claire Danes), who are adjusting to post-divorce life.
They once shared a luxurious apartment in New York City, paid for partly by his wages as an accomplished liver specialist, but mostly by her enormous pay cheque from being a prolific talent agent. They are unmistakably upper class and knowingly run in snobbish circles, but that’s not really what this story is about.
Nevertheless, it has been a point of discourse. Fleishman Is in Trouble was well-received by most upon its North American release last year, but there were some dissenting voices; not least USA Today, which harshly branded its plot as “rich people problems”.
It’s here I should say that the series also follows Libby (Lizzy Caplan), a friend of Toby’s from university, who spends the series in the throes of a deep malaise. She too is upper middle class, with the salary of her lawyer husband allowing her to be a stay-at-home mum in a picturesque suburban neighbourhood – although that isn’t exactly what she wanted for her life.
As we recover from a tenacious case of White Lotus fever and acknowledge class unrest more broadly, I can understand the knee-jerk reaction to view this troubled trio as nothing more than wealthy whiners. But, in this instance, I would encourage a deeper look into the issues at hand.
This isn’t another social satire about deluded poshos – and that’s OK, there are plenty of those knocking around right now. Fleishman Is in Trouble actually touches upon themes which are near-universal, as explained by Taffy Brodesser-Akner, who penned the original book and this adaptation.
In an interview last year, she described the miniseries as “a story about middle age and marriage and divorce, and getting older and nostalgia and lifelong friendship, and parenting and career and ambition”. More concisely, Caplan said “it’s about the whole f**king world”.
That would explain why, as a 25-year-old from a small coastal town in England, I feel personally spoken to by a story about 40-something divorcees in New York City. Though the Fleishmans certainly have privileges derived from their elite status, the themes of their story listed above are ones we all face ourselves – or likely will at some point.
In fact, this is also a show about the ultimate equaliser: mortality. The open secret about life is that one day it’s going to end. That’s something that everyone has to accept regardless of wealth and status (although perhaps cryogenic freezing will change that one day).
For that reason, it’s overly cynical to dismiss Libby’s reflections on lost youth and evaporating opportunity as the ramblings of an ungrateful toff. These are big questions – unanswerable, the show suggests – but we all have a right to explore them as we come to terms with our time being finite.
The character of Toby has also come under fire in some analysis of Fleishman Is in Trouble. He’s our main protagonist for six of the eight episodes, which he spends reeling from his ex-wife’s apparent ghosting of himself and their two young children.
This peculiar scenario sends him further along a path of utter self-absorption, which he first began trudging down during his marriage to Rachel; arguably setting in motion the events that led to their divorce. He’s a bundle of bad habits, some of which are distinctly male, but I’m surprised to read reports of people struggling to get through his portion of the show.
For starters, Jesse Eisenberg’s performance is among the best of his career, traversing the novel highs and heartbreaking lows of separation. His character is a very compelling figure at the beginning of the series, who juggles being a single parent and a caring doctor, all while navigating a disorienting change of circumstance.
His angelic sheen wears off as we uncover the questionable behaviour that led to his estrangement – including one major mishandling of a horrifying incident – but these mistakes don’t place him beyond all hope of sympathy or redemption.
If the unconventional narrative structure of Fleishman Is in Trouble demonstrates the importance of perspective, then we need to apply that in both directions. The predictable revelation of the series is that Rachel is not the monster that Toby regards her as and Toby isn’t the innocent victim to which we were introduced. Neither is perfect, and that’s what makes them such interesting, authentic characters.
Brodesser-Akner’s scripts and the performances by Eisenberg and Danes perfectly capture those moments where a conversation spirals into aggression – with both parties left confident in their righteousness.
This isn’t an issue of wealth. I’ve watched these very same scenarios play out between my parents, my friends and (*gulp*) even myself with various sparring partners over the years. This isn’t the oblivious behaviour of the super-rich; it’s human nature. Likewise, so are feelings of regret, anxiety and existential dread.
Of course, there are people in the world who are in far more desperate situations than Toby, Rachel and Libby, but can any of us honestly claim to never get swept up in our emotions, while ignoring issues more deserving of our attention? We’d like to say yes, but the answer is no.
In the case of Fleishman Is in Trouble, wealth and class is merely a backdrop to a much broader range of themes. It only really steals focus in occasional scenes featuring Rachel’s piranha-like social group of elitist mums, who (I hasten to add) she only associates with out of an aching need to banish the poverty and loneliness of her own childhood.
Therefore, to diminish this story as simply about “rich people problems” is to miss the point spectacularly. This is a story about life. Or as Libby states in the finale, it’s a story about everything.
Fleishman Is in Trouble is available to stream on Disney Plus in the UK from Wednesday 22nd February 2023. Sign up to Disney Plus for £7.99 a month or £79.90 for a year.
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