"I'm just drifting out here," Tracy's sorrowful, lonely insight encapsulates the essence of this episode, as our space babies grapple with feelings of disorientation and misery. Thankfully, their ambivalence and the mess they find themselves in makes for compelling television.
Ed is reeling from his near-death experience in his fighter jet, and Karen's icy demeanor is a direct response. She's frosty and mean, even going so far as to spoil "Wrath of Khan" when Ed suggests going together. But this intensity of righteous fury and worry over Ed is short-lived, accompanied by a healthy dose of self-doubt about her own ability to handle the stress. It's a poignant "I told you so" moment that turns on itself.
Karen isn't the only one with harsh words for Ed and Gordo. They're in Vice-Principal Margo's office, forced to listen to the audio of their dogfight and the engine fire that followed. Their body language and tones capture the essence of kids in real trouble for the first time. In contrast, Molly's delivery is snappy and fed up with these cowboys, so crisp and authoritative that for a moment, it feels like we're in a screwball comedy where Katharine Hepburn is on a roll, and Cary Grant is about to sail into the room with a martini for that testy dame and a suave quip to defuse the tension.
Molly reads them the riot act but refrains from grounding them. As they clear the office door, Gordo and Ed's faces are priceless – scamps who can't believe they just got away with it. Tom and Margo's faces are best described as aghast. Tom actually splutters, while Margo takes a more philosophical approach, encouraging Molly to set a highly professional tone for her tenure. But Molly couldn't care less about their thoughts; she's in charge of the Astronaut Office for the time being, so she will discipline her charges as she sees fit. Good day to you, Margo and Tom!
Meanwhile, Tracy arrives on the moon for the first time, greeted with fanfare and initial excitement. But that quickly fades into homesickness and a crushing feeling of being ground down by the dull routine, crummy living conditions, and resentment from her fellow astronauts toward her unearned moon perks. When Commander Rossi figures out that she's been drinking heavily from the mission chemist's moonshine stash and endangering the entire crew's air supply by blocking the vent in her rack, he lays down the law.
Tracy needs to shape up – like yesterday – and in return for Rossi not writing her up and having her return to Earth under a cloud of shame, she agrees right away to work double shifts piloting the Lunar Surface Air Module (LSAM) to pick up cargo and relinquishing her appearances on "The Tonight Show," as well as her coveted single-person rack for a time-shared one. (And just think: Rossi doesn’t even know that she’s been smoking in the air lock, blowing the smoke into some vacuum to vent it out of one of the pipes above Jamestown Colony.) This tour is challenging in ways she didn’t expect, but the extra structure and being treated like just another astronaut may be exactly what she needs to do the work she knows she’s capable of and connect authentically and on equal footing with her colleagues.
The tension that weaves through "The Weight" is palpable, as it oscillates between dreams of soaring romance and the harsh realities of having to abort a mission and waste a $2 million fighter jet. This tension permeates nearly every scene, with moments that aren't about navigating the space between optimistic dreams and a rueful-to-hopeful acceptance of reality feeling tentative at best.
Gordo is working tirelessly to get himself back into physical and mental shape for his upcoming moon tour, but the progress is slow. The manageable tasks of jogging and clearing out the liquor cabinet are easy enough, but he needs to do more. The scene where Danny and Jimmy find him at the bottom of the pool in a scuba suit, training himself to feel like he's in his moon suit without triggering an anxiety attack, is reminiscent of similar scenes in Rushmore and The Graduate. It's as if a heavy sigh could be heard from the bottom of the pool.
On the other hand, this experiment in claustrophobia tolerance leads to a lovely and memorable scene between Gordo and his boys. He opens up about how his impending mission is forcing him to confront and reconcile the opposing notions of maintaining a happy face for his family's sake, while knowing that "it's not always going to be okay... things can go wrong in a second." This leads to a joyfully chaotic bonding moment as they all leap into an impromptu pool party.
With a similarly tentative hopefulness, Ellen reconnects with Pam at a cozy bookshop, attending her poetry reading. They have a nice chat afterward, during which Ellen meets Elise, Pam's longtime partner. Despite Pam's committed relationship, she invites Ellen to catch up with her over drinks when she's in town again in a few weeks. Those drinks go so well that Ellen and Pam wind up in bed together. Will this heady reunion be a "Whoops, never again, it's been real!" or an "Oh, wow, this is real, what do we do now?"
A highlight from this scene that I can't help but mention is confirmation that disco is indeed thriving in this timeline. The gals have a slightly incredulous and fond laugh about how Larry, the buttoned-up engineer, loves hitting the town each week in his hustle-ready leisure suit and silver chain, with his boyfriend Peter along for the ride.
Aleida has indeed shown up for what she hopes will be long-term employment at NASA. After a moment of pure exhilaration in the observation area of mission control, she puts on her mask of wary guardedness, batting away a colleague's mostly good-natured "getting to know you" questions about how she landed the job. There's a fine line between cultivating an air of mystery and being so reticent that you seem like a standoffish weirdo with something to hide, and unfortunately, that line is in the eye of the beholder. We'll see how this goes.
We also have the first sighting of the moon guns in this episode. The marines who'll be providing security for the lithium mine are in their suits, learning how to handle the all-white M16 rifles they've been assigned for the mission. One marine wonders aloud about why they're white, and another helpfully exposits that standard-issue guns would melt in their gloves. The lunar surface can get up to 250 degrees Fahrenheit, and the white coating will bounce back enough of that light and heat to keep the guns functional.
Molly appears to deliver - at the last possible moment - the regulations on the use of force on the moon, and off they go. Her intention is to read and discuss the regs, which are clear as mud, with her astronauts, but her eyes are swimming and she can't focus on any of the text. She plays it off gruffly, which works but is not a long-term solution. The cat is going to escape that bag sooner rather than later. Of all the people navigating a weird, unexpected path, Molly's may be the loneliest. And wow, her two scenes do an excellent job of driving home the fact that this promotion (which she tried to talk Ed out of bestowing on her) provides not so much as a foot of runway. She's been hurled up into the stratosphere and has to hope she figures out how to stay aloft without drifting.
