The "TV Event Of The Decade" Did Not Cost A Lot Of Money To make

Mr Beast spends considerably more.

“A man who looks like Nathan Fielder behind the wheel of a flying Miata as jumbo jets crash beneath him”/ChatGPT

In the finale of HBO’s second season of The Rehearsal, Nathan Fielder drops a bombshell with his trademark deadpan delivery: over the past two years, he has secretly trained to become certified to fly a Boeing 737, crowning himself “the least experienced 737-rated pilot in North America.” He has committed to The Bit™ more than anyone has ever committed to bits. It’s absurd, wildly specific, and—like so much of the show—hilariously overbuilt in a way that only makes sense if you’ve surrendered to Fielder’s strange logic.

It’s a moment of comedic brilliance that feels like it must have cost millions. A real 737! A fake airport! Dozens of actors, cameras, crew! The whole thing seems like the kind of extravagant stunt you’d expect from a Michael Bay film or a network finale. It feels expensive, which is part of the joke—and also part of the point. The Rehearsal constantly plays with our assumptions about scale, reality, and production value. And just like Fielder’s stilted monologues and awkward silences, that sense of grandeur is deliberately misleading.

Because beneath all the spectacle lies a different kind of genius—one that’s not about excess, but about control. A show that looks like it costs $10 million an episode is, in reality, operating on a budget that wouldn’t cover Kendall Roy’s vacation wardrobe. Fielder’s real magic trick isn’t flying a 737. It’s making you believe he’s flying HBO’s budget off a cliff.

Prestige on a Budget

There’s a stubborn myth in television: the idea that quality scales directly with cost. That myth has been reinforced by a wave of prestige programming where lavish spending is the brand. Think of Succession, which revels in its opulence—sprawling Manhattan penthouses, private jets slicing through the sky, yacht parties in the Mediterranean. Succession is television’s Porsche 911: luxurious, meticulously engineered, and unapologetically expensive, a gleaming symbol of HBO’s willingness to spend big for prestige. And audiences love it. The show doesn’t just depict wealth—it performs it. Every wide-angle drone shot of a European estate is a flex.

By contrast, The Rehearsal is a Mazda Miata. Some people hear that and think it’s a knock. It’s not. (I own a Miata.) A Miata is lean, precise, and perfectly suited to its purpose. It’s lightweight and brilliantly balanced. It doesn’t pretend to be a luxury vehicle—but in the hands of someone who knows what they’re doing, it can outperform cars that cost five times as much. Car nerds know this. TV nerds should too.

What Fielder has built with The Rehearsal is a high-performance comedy machine that runs on misdirection and obsessive craftsmanship. It feels lavish, but it’s not. That gap between perception and reality is where the real artistry lives. The show doesn’t need a blank check—it needs a blueprint, a little bit of madness, and a camera crew willing to follow Fielder into the uncanny valley.

The Real Cost of a 737 Stunt

Let’s unpack the finale’s centerpiece: Fielder’s solo flight in a Boeing 737. It’s the kind of sequence that seems almost irresponsible in its ambition. It involves aviation training, renting a massive commercial jet, securing FAA clearances, hiring background actors, coordinating a crew, and navigating a labyrinth of insurance, unions, and logistics. The visual payoff is huge. It looks—and more importantly, feels—like the climax of a much more expensive show.

But the actual costs? Surprisingly reasonable!

Here’s the breakdown: