The Rehearsal Recap: 50 First Dates

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One interesting characteristic of documentaries, as well as reality shows, is their ability to blur the line between reality and fiction. They often present individuals as if they are living naturally, even though they’re being filmed. While it’s possible for these programs to convey truth, Nathan Fielder stands out due to his skillful manipulation of the artificiality in the reality he creates. This new season, for instance, has seen significant investment from HBO, resulting in detailed replicas like a Houston airport terminal or an apartment in San Jose from 2011. However, the actions within these settings, often performed by actors trained in the “Fielder method,” are noticeably rigid and unusual. Yet, Fielder is aware that we’ll still be drawn into narratives such as a timid co-pilot named Colin attempting to forge a romantic connection with an actress whose feelings for him may also be part of the act.

Tonight’s episode of “The Rehearsal” isn’t as unconventional as the last one, but it doesn’t fall short in any way. In fact, it doesn’t have the capacity to feature Fielder, dressed as a baby named “Sully” Sullenberger, drinking from an oversized puppet teat amidst Redwood Forest, which lacks branches long enough for such a spectacle. Instead, it continues to add intriguing layers of what seems like reality, with Fielder at the center, much like a scientist still pondering the results of an experiment, despite his actions frequently causing chaos. His basic premise about airline safety isn’t flawed, and his insights into performance can be genuinely deep at times. However, he adopts the amusing, deadpan stance of a circus ringmaster overseeing his own bizarre performance.

The episode doesn’t become any more amusing than its beginning, which fulfilled Fielder’s commitments to the contestants of the singing competition, a Canadian Idol clone, that he had devised merely to prompt his co-pilot judges to deliver unwelcome news. In the subsequent episode, he had assured singers during auditions that they would appear on national television, not in a singing show, but “a singing competition as part of another TV show that has nothing to do with singing.” Therefore, with a fog machine operating in his Houston airport setting, the 50 remaining contestants perform a medley of the public-domain hymn “Amazing Grace” across various genres such as country, pop punk, techno, and my favorite, hip-hop. (“Grace is amazing, it sounds so sweet I can taste it.”) Meanwhile, Fielder stands thoughtfully in the shadows, remaining dedicated to enhancing cockpit communication and saving lives simultaneously. HBO desires his show to be humorous, however, so he feigns reluctance while delivering what could potentially be the funniest moment on television this week.

Recently, a particular theme he’s been exploring is the solitude, desolation, and tension experienced by the aviators he’s involved in his study. The notion that pilots might jeopardize their flying licenses by consulting a therapist seems so preposterous that he employed actors as phony crew members to interact with his pilot-judges during breaks. (“Just to clarify if the FAA is listening: This isn’t therapy; it’s just two people having a conversation.”) This situation brings him to Colin, a friendly yet clumsy air cargo pilot, whom he approaches using the line, “I couldn’t help but hear your conversation with our boom operator,” as if it weren’t the most artificial interaction one could imagine. With Colin serving as his test subject, Fielder embarks on a lengthy episode where he attempts to find him a girlfriend – or at least a bizarre substitute for one – in order to foster the sort of personal connection pilots require to communicate effectively within the cockpit. In essence, this is what he’s aiming to achieve.

Since Colin struggles with low self-confidence, Fielder proposes the concept of a “human pack,” similar to how animals in the wild boost each member’s confidence to take risks they wouldn’t normally attempt alone. However, Colin’s pack doesn’t yield any groundbreaking insights, as socializing isn’t equivalent to hunting, not even in practice. Instead, it presents an amusing scene with a dozen actors imitating Colin’s mannerisms, speech patterns, and hesitant laughter. This idea eventually paves the way for helping him find love.

In this scene, we meet Emma, also known as “Jennifer Kissme,” one of several actresses rumored to be interested in Colin for the sake of a potential scripted scenario dreamt up by Fielder. Another contender envisions Colin as a seductive Albert Einstein figure, claiming to have been both fascinated and aroused while reading about his life story. Emma and Colin engage in casual conversation about travel plans and share an off-camera date that concludes amicably, but without any visible signs of physical intimacy. To overcome this hurdle, the show ratchets up the absurdity: Five actors are trained to observe Colin and Emma’s relationship dynamics, and Fielder sets up five replicas of Colin’s apartment for them to role-play various potential developments in their romance. This allows Colin to examine different scenarios of how his relationship with Emma might progress.

This idea that “Kissme” explores most profoundly is the artistic license actors enjoy when embodying their characters, as opposed to the limitations faced by real-life individuals like Colin and Emma following a putt-putt date. Some acting pairs have remarkably escalated their on-screen intimacy at an astonishing pace. Fielder finds himself captivated by an actress who maintains a real-life partner, yet can immerse herself in a role to the extent of experiencing something akin to love within a fictional setting. After working with Emma Stone in “The Curse“, Fielder ponders, “I didn’t grasp how an actor could feel love in a totally fabricated relationship.” Perhaps he simply lacks acting skills. Alternatively, adopting an actor’s mindset might enable one to convincingly portray such roles.

In this scene, Colin and Emma are assigned the roles of Captain Powers and Jennifer Kissme. Their character directions suggest that Captain Powers isn’t shy about expressing affection, while Jennifer Kissme is expected to live up to her surname. The journey towards their kiss is a challenging one, filled with small talk, drums, Portuguese red wine. However, it eventually leads to a peck on the cheek, granting them what they confide in Fielder they desired. The playwright suggests that perhaps we all need a reason to be genuine and honest, and we’re merely seeking approval. It remains debatable how Colin and Emma’s convincing portrayal can serve as a blueprint for open communication between co-pilots and their captains. However, if The Rehearsal is also a depiction of human relationships and effective communication, the playwright might be onto something.

Scene Work

In the future, there might be a tactile pulse to indicate the nervous perspiration from Colin, who hasn’t responded yet to a woman’s request for travel advice regarding Greenland and Iceland.

She made a move towards Colin, saying, ‘You know, there’s something about you that reminds me of Einstein. There’s an intriguing, understated sexiness to you.’

* Nathan Fielder excels in the uncomfortable, chair-hiding style of comedy unlike any other. Watching him ponder “the eye” gesture as a potential kiss signal from women is both tantalizingly wicked and entertaining to behold.

Talking about uncomfortable situations, what if Fielder had his actresses’ partners watch as they kissed their on-screen counterparts? (“She’s quite skilled, isn’t she?” “Indeed, watch her perform.”)

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2025-05-12 07:09