As a dedicated TV show enthusiast, I eagerly dive into the new season of my favorite show, ready to be transported to another world. A leisurely hour spent catching up with the entire gang, keeping things light and breezy, you know? Haha, no. That's not how we do things on "For All Mankind." Strap in, because this season premiere has everything: NASA's intense competition (and unbeknownst to most of them, collaboration) with the Soviet space program, the reverberations and criticism of Gordo and Tracy Stevens' heroism, and, of course, a "Poseidon Adventure" in space. Why not?
Thanks to a super-sized opening montage that delivers alternate timeline updates at rat-a-tat speed, we're quickly transported to 1992. Texas Senator Ellen Wilson is running against Arkansas Governor Bill Clinton for the presidency of the U.S., following Gary Hart's two terms. Danny Stevens has followed in his late parents' footsteps and become an astronaut. Karen Baldwin is now in the space tourism business with Sam Cleveland. Gordo and Tracy's memories remain alive thanks to a memorial statue at JSC and a schmaltzy biopic starring Dennis Quaid and Meg Ryan. Communism is enjoying a golden age of economic growth and ideological success, as all of Latin America and now Mexico have gone red. And as the finale of season two strongly suggested, Reagan and Andropov did indeed sign a treaty governing moon colonization.
Given the booming Soviet economy and the security everyone feels thanks to the moon colonization treaty, it's no surprise to see Margo's good buddy Sergei on TV announcing that the Soviet space program is preparing to launch a manned mission to Mars in 1996. Mazels to them, but Margo, Aleida, and Bill would feel a whole lot better about it if the nuclear-powered engine NASA has been testing for their hoped-for Mars mission didn't fail every time they test it.
As you may recall from last season, the KGB leveraged Sergei's genuine friendship with Margo (and her inclination to protect human life) to maneuver her into being an intelligence asset for them. This arrangement appears to be still in place, thanks to their system of Sergei special-ordering rare jazz LPs for Margo, followed by Margo using a payphone outside the record store to call Sergei at his payphone in the USSR. Their conversation — as awkward and halting as any call between people who both like and like each other but are separated by thousands of miles and pesky laws about treason would be — reveals that it's not just Margo sharing helpful suggestions and information with the Soviets. Sergei is doing the same for NASA.
But it can't all be a cute long-distance reciprocal espionage (with bonus tentative flirtation) situation, can it? The moment Sergei hangs up with Margo — after mentioning how much he's looking forward to seeing her at their conference in London soon, aww — his KGB handler calls to remind him to push for more information about something related to their nuclear engines. We knew it had to get more complicated, didn't we? Sergei's regrets are plain as day in his facial expression as he tries again to wriggle out of this request, reminding his handler that pushing Margo on something this sensitive and high-stakes is bound to make her clam up. Still, he's reminded that he has his instructions, followed by a very pointed and abrupt end to the call.Margo's reluctance to speak on the matter may stem from more than just moral rectitude; the engine simply isn't ready, and perhaps she's embarrassed about letting Sergei know. Aleida's ingenious solution prompts Margo to assign her protégée to the next flight to the moon so she can oversee its implementation, and a joyous Rosales family celebration erupts in their living room. Reflecting on how much Aleida and her father had to endure to reach this place where she's so professionally successful, with her father now living with Aleida, her husband Victor, and their young son, a tear or two does tend to well up in the old eye. It's so heartening to see how far Aleida has come in all of her relationships at home and at work.
Meanwhile, at Sam and Karen's luxury space hotel, shuttles full of guests are arriving for a wedding. Is the happy couple Sam and Karen themselves? Kelly and her intended? It turns out it's Danny Stevens and his fiancée, Amber, who in profile bears a striking resemblance to Paige Jennings (as played by Holly Taylor on The Americans). Ed, Karen, and Dani are all sincerely thrilled to see Danny and wish him and Amber joy. In the intervening years since the end of season two, Ed and Dani have both gotten remarried; Ed to a woman named Yvonne, and Dani to a young widower whose teen son, Isaiah, she dotes on.
Everything seems pretty normal (apart from being in a space hotel whose slow-spinning allows it to maintain the same gravity as Earth, which is objectively amazing); the happy couple says "I do," everyone is wearing their best heavily beaded icy pastels at the reception, Danny kindly refuses champagne to stick with water only, and Amber's maid of honor delivers a very sweet speech. Things get uncomfortable as Jimmy Stevens delivers his best man speech. After touching on how Danny always knows how to make others feel special and thanking him for being such a good brother (especially since he got sober, which accounts for the refusal of champagne), he sort of rambles his way into their parents' deaths. Those feelings are still very raw for Jimmy, and after saying - his voice dripping with scorn and sarcasm - that they died for the country and the space program, his voice cracks a tiny bit as he nearly shouts, "but really, they're just dead." This hard, unvarnished truth hangs uncomfortably in the air for a moment before the dancing begins.
Last season, For All Mankind examined the meaning of heroism from the perspective of two characters who thought their best efforts were well behind them. Because this is a show that cares deeply about the effect of major events on individual people (and vice-versa), it looks like we'll be exploring the long-term effects of Gordo and Tracy's self-sacrifice on the boys they left behind. From Jimmy's perspective, their deaths are meaningless, and the meanings others try to impose on it are revolting to him. His parents disappeared from his life altogether with no warning, no note left behind for him and Danny, no FaceTime™ goodbye; just a sudden, permanent hole in his life that doesn't even belong to him because NASA has taken charge of that narrative. Both Jimmy and Danny are in some ways frozen at the ages they were when their parents died - 17 and 19 respectively. Had Gordo and Tracy lived, it's possible to imagine a future where Danny didn't become an astronaut. Instead, it seems as though their deaths warped and sealed his career plans. Did no one suggest to him that he might be better off working in aerospace but not as an astronaut, and perhaps not at NASA at all, in particular? To be continued because a major crisis is a-brewing.
The opening montage hinted at North Korea's abrupt shift from its ballistic missile program to a space program of their own. Margo rolled her eyes upon learning that a North Korean rocket had exploded into a heap of debris; apparently, they were relying on very flawed, old Soviet designs. The debris, though seemingly harmless to Polaris, signaled trouble ahead. A piece of debris struck one of the hotel's thrusters, causing it to open fully, which in turn caused the entire craft to spin faster than it should. The increased speed led to a surge in G-forces on board. A spacewalk by two astronauts poached from NASA ended in disaster as they were both flung into the void by a wildly flailing structural cable, which then caused severe damage to the space hotel, forcing everyone to evacuate. This was a race against time as the hotel spun faster and faster, causing G-forces to increase to a point where no one could stand, let alone walk. Oh, and also, the hotel was not built to withstand more than 4 Gs. If no one could turn off the thruster causing the problem, the entire structure would start to rip itself apart. Complicating this nightmare even further, the elevators that would take guests to safety aboard the shuttles malfunctioned, killing Sam in the process.
This show loves to revisit and revise story beats that have happened previously. To wit: in a mass life-or-death situation, Danny Stevens races down an air shaft to his shuttle, dons his space suit, and performs a successful spacewalk, closing the open thruster at the last possible moment. Whatever negative feelings he might be carrying around about Gordo and Tracy's deaths, he doesn't hesitate to step into their shoes. Instead of dying a martyr as his parents did, Danny performs an equally dangerous long-shot task to save lives and survives. Being a hero is great and all, but being constantly reminded of it and of how your late parents died may start to weigh heavily on his noble young brow.
