As we embark on season two in May 1983, a generous opening montage unfolds, highlighting the backdrop of the time. Ronald Reagan had secured his first presidential term in 1976 amidst escalating tensions fueled by the space race between the U.S. and USSR. The assassination of Pope John Paul II was a stark reminder of the world's fragility, while John Lennon's life was spared, diverging from our timeline where he was tragically gone. Prince Charles's marriage to Camilla Parker-Bowles signals a new chapter, and Lady Diana Spencer's life, seemingly, extended far beyond her 36 years in our reality, shielded from the relentless paparazzi. NASA's Jamestown Base on the moon has transformed into a bustling metropolis, a stark contrast to its humble beginnings in season one.
With a nine-year leap, our characters have aged and some have matured. Ed and Karen Baldwin grieved the untimely loss of their son Shane, Gordo and Tracy Stevens defied orders to rescue Molly Cobb after a tragic accident on Apollo 24, Deke succumbed to blood loss from a puncture wound sustained during the same incident, Ellen chose to keep her sexuality hidden for career advancement, Margo became a workaholic, and Aleida's future hung in limbo following her father's arrest and deportation.
This brings us to one of season two's central themes: middle age. Our beloved astronauts and supporting cast, now north of 40, navigate the complexities of accomplished individuals and institutions grappling with the realities of a decade's worth of achievements. What does ambition look like when you've already conquered the seemingly impossible multiple times? And what do those past triumphs mean when viewed from a decade's perspective?
As we settle in, it's clear that Ed has ascended to admiral ranks, taking over Deke's role as the mentor and taskmaster for new astronaut candidates and mission personnel. He's now the "Old Man," akin to Edward James Olmos's iconic Captain Adama in Ronald D. Moore's previous space drama, "Battlestar Galactica." His wife Karen has transformed Houston's beloved dive bar into a thriving success story, catering to both locals and tourists. We also meet their daughter Kelly, a bright high schooler and Asian American who will grow on us as the season unfolds.
Kelly (along with the Stevens kids and Aleida, whom we'll soon reacquaint) embodies another significant theme of season two: hope. Whereas last season explored optimism amidst soul-crushing loss, this one is set to showcase the next generation embracing their hopeful outlook while their parents grapple with the tempered expectations of middle age. The stage is set for an emotional journey through space and time as we witness the resilience of the human spirit amidst the vastness of the cosmos.
Do you recall how tightly wound Ed and Karen were last season? Get ready to embrace their 2.0 version; they're not what you'd call chilled-out, but let's say their priorities and relationship have shifted for the better since 1974. Ed clocks out at 6 p.m. sharp to make it to spaghetti night at the Outpost with his wife and daughter. Successful small-business owner Karen enjoys a joint and stargazes from the hood of her car out back. For the Baldwins, this is far-out living.
Meanwhile, despite the promising start between Gordo and Tracy at the end of last season, the Stevenses have divorced. Tracy appears to be thriving, working as a glamorous public spokeswoman for NASA and announcing her remarriage to a rich cowboy type on The Tonight Show. Poor Gordo is a textbook definition of a divorced-dad sad sack, also working as a public spokesman for NASA but reduced to reciting the same tired spiel to various Rotary clubs about his astronaut experiences. He's bored, adrift, and has grown a very lamentable mustache. They could have stopped there, but no: Gordo's got a beer belly to go with the 'stache. Fine, we get it – he's a sad sack!
Margo, now a NASA higher-up who literally lives at the office (including a sofa bed, a closet with a complete wardrobe of work clothes, and an attached full bath), seems perpetually harried but has also developed some impressive fancy footwork to navigate delicate interagency relationships. Chief among these is her working relationship with U.S. Air Force General Nelson Bradford, a man whose entire job seems to be anxious threat assessment and stern reminders that NASA needs Pentagon approval for nearly everything they do that veers even a degree or two off from regulation.
Bradford is a walking abundance of caution – he’s conservative in the truest sense – so when he recommends moving to DEFCON 3 in response to both U.S. and Soviet spy satellites being put briefly out of commission by a powerful and swiftly moving solar storm about to sweep across the moon, it’s as prudent as it is vexing. In a room full of adults, he’s the stern dad because he cares first and foremost about the big picture.
Oh, and about that solar storm: It disrupts the astronauts’ celebration of seeing a sunrise for the first time in two weeks. Their a cappella performance of “Three Little Birds” is cut short; a bummer! But with good reason. Singing about how every little thing’s gonna be all right doesn’t really suit the moment once they learn they’ve got to take immediate shelter from the incoming radiation blast that could kill them all.
One of For All Mankind’s strengths is its ability to remind us that the events contributing to large-scale geopolitical stakes on the moon and on Earth have real effects on actual human beings. As everyone at Jamestown Colony races to what amounts to the cellar in the opening scenes of The Wizard of Oz, Molly Cobb and Wubbo Ockels (a fictionalized version of the Dutch astronaut) are stranded. Molly chooses to take shelter in a cave while Wubbo races back to Jamestown on a rover. Unfortunately, his rover overturns, spilling Wubbo out onto the rocky ground, where he suffers a small head wound and is unconscious. Having never once chosen protocol and direct orders above saving a friend and colleague, Molly leaves her radiation-measuring wristband in the cave and runs to the rescue as fast as low gravity permits. She drags Wubbo to safety but knows their radiation exposure is dangerously high.
As the season premiere concludes, there’s a lot to look forward to and an equal amount of simmering dread. Strap in – this ride is about to get bumpy!
