As we hurtle towards the final lap of For All Mankind’s third season, let’s delve into the overarching themes that have emerged in this wild narrative of humanity's bold foray into the Martian wilderness, brimming with the promise of hope but ultimately marred by competitive hubris – perhaps explaining why so many things have gone awry.
As with many penultimate episodes of TV seasons, “Coming Home” lays much groundwork for the season finale. Over the past 20 episodes, For All Mankind has been grappling with the question of whether true collaboration among nations is feasible. Must we always treat our geopolitical adversaries as adversaries in every context? The second season’s escalating squabbles over lunar turf offered some crucial lessons about international cooperation beyond Earth’s surface. The third season has showcased how well the space explorers have absorbed these lessons and how their home agencies are struggling to catch up.
In the second season, leaders from the U.S. and U.S.S.R. on Earth were so preoccupied with securing an advantage on the moon that they weaponized space. This led to horrifying armed confrontations, including a cosmonaut burned alive in his space suit after being shot by a U.S. marine, followed by a Soviet invasion of Jamestown Colony to “rescue” a defecting colleague. Had these superpowers instead negotiated their way to a space-exploration alliance, there would have been no shoot-out, no near-nuclear meltdown, and no need for Gordo and Tracy Stevens’ heroic interventions. Even a fragile agreement riddled with mutual distrust would have served as a bulwark against anyone feeling compelled to sacrifice their life to save space exploration.
It appears that true collaboration across nations in space is indeed possible, but only thanks to intense crises. When we drop in on the merged crews representing NASA, Roscosmos, and Helios, they’re five months past the landslide and the deaths of Isabel, Nick, and Alexei. The three crews are fully integrated in their work and living arrangements, and they’ve settled into an easy camaraderie as they pour most of their time and energy into getting the MSAM Popeye ready to dock with the Phoenix in the next launch window. They need to get Kelly Baldwin up to the safety of the Phoenix for the remainder of her pregnancy, adding a degree of urgency to their efforts.
Despite the seriousness and urgency of the mission, and the grief and disappointment hanging over it all, it seems as if things are pretty good up there – well, except for the toilets, which were not built to handle the waste of so many people. Despite waste-management problems and dwindling rations, the atmosphere is surprisingly light. Will and Luisa have an intricate and adorable rapport going on. Even the previously frosty and tightly wound Kuznetsov has relaxed so much that he casually informs everyone that they can nab a replacement for the docking system from one of the many Soviet probes already on Mars. Necessity forced them to merge all three missions, but time has also played its part in mending frayed relations.
The Mars mission has not only opened our eyes to the vastness of space but has also underscored the relative insignificance of Earth's affairs. Witness Will Tyler's journey from the moment he stepped into an unprecedented gray zone - continuing to serve his government with distinction while in space, knowing full well that his return to Earth would mean dishonorable discharge from the Army. It highlights how earthbound space exploration agencies are powerless when the mission's leaders are millions of miles away, their role now limited to mission support, advice, and rescue.
The episode delves into the fundamentals of identity, making a compelling case that an individual's intrinsic, immutable characteristics will always outweigh other factors such as nationality, policy, and personal risk. For better or for worse, people are who they are, and that's a fact that can't be changed.
Aleida's intense need to uncover who at NASA shared her designs with the Soviets has fueled a long, independent, unofficial investigation. Now that it's coming to a head, she's losing control of the whole thing. Bill Strausser reassures her that she isn't deluded; the evidence does point to Margo. However, the FBI's involvement, which Aleida can't tolerate, means that they'll investigate Margo and likely subpoena her to testify at any hearing or trial. Now she must grapple with the boundaries of loyalty, friendship, and duty and the equally important question of what she thought would happen as a consequence of chasing down answers.
Margo's unshakeable belief in science as a collaborative effort has led her down a stubborn, idealistic path. Remember her wistful look around the empty conference room at the end of the previous episode? Remember her delight and excitement at developing - notably, in partnership with Sergei - the docking mechanism for the historic Apollo-Soyuz handshake in space? She loves getting the band back together and hates seeing them split again. Her devoted belief in scientific advances being literally for all mankind is what led her to cross the line from being a helpful colleague to a Soviet intelligence asset.
Meanwhile, Ellen's surprise coming-out neatly weaves together several arcs: her entwined, messy (and perhaps still loving?) relationships with Larry and Pam; her continued growth as an astute politician and a full human being; and the fates of LGBTQIA+ American service members, especially Will Tyler's. This is another big-swing moment for Ellen, something she has proved to be very good at executing. Her clutch performance in the Apollo 24 rescue mission in season one became the foundation of her bona fides as a NASA administrator, while her unsanctioned authorization of last season's Apollo-Soyuz handshake spurred Reagan and Andropov to meet and hammer out the historic moon treaty. Decisions she makes while just doing her job often lead to significant change well beyond what she initially intended.
Ellen's choices here will likely yield long-term, wide-ranging ripples for queer rights in general next season. For now, we can interpret her bold move as a moment of self-sacrifice to protect Larry and their son, or as a courageous statement of independence from a woman finally insisting on being fully known and understood. Most likely, it's a bit of both.
As astute viewers will have noticed, nearly every episode this season has concluded with a cliffhanger. "Coming Home" is no exception, and it definitely feels as though the writers heard our pleas for mercy and chose instead to show us that they hadn't even begun to hang a cliff before now. They couldn't just give us the nerve-wracking twist of Kelly falling unconscious due to preeclampsia, which any viewer of "Call the Midwife" knew was coming the moment Dr. Mayakovsky (a classic graduate of the Caring Grump University Medical School) noted her blood pressure was a little high. Oh no. They just had to pile on the total shock of Dani and Kuznetsov walking into yet another space-gun situation when they most unexpectedly come across an armed (and equally shocked-looking) North Korean in the last five seconds of the episode. It's enough to make one holler and throw the remote at the TV. It's a (furious) compliment, I swear!
