Welcome, esteemed Vulture audience, to the eagerly anticipated second season of "Foundation"! While the inaugural season was replete with captivating visuals and intriguing concepts, it somewhat lacked the pacing of a gripping page-turner, to borrow a phrase from Yoda in "The Last Jedi." The groundwork—or perhaps more aptly, the "foundations"—laid in season one introduced us to a sprawling galactic landscape, with humanity's very existence hanging in the balance, a triumvirate of cloned emperors, and the profound idea of psychohistory. For those jumping into the fray now, sans season one, prepare for a mental marathon, as "Foundation" is adapted from one of Isaac Asimov's most influential and notoriously dense and intricate works, prioritizing world-building over narrative momentum and character depth.
Fortunately, season two veers from this path. With the foundational narrative firmly established, this season is liberated to delve into the pivotal moments that will shape the eponymous Foundation and the annals of human history, while paradoxically embracing a more intimate and personal tone. This transformation is evident from the season premiere, which sharpens its focus on a select few familiar faces while merely whetting our appetite for the new characters poised to steal the spotlight this season.
Let us commence with the most unclothed individual, shall we? Over a century has passed since season one's climactic revelations about the sabotage of the Cleon genetic dynasty, resulting in flawed and non-identical clones. This revelation has seemingly left an indelible mark on Lee Pace's Brother Day, who spends a considerable portion of the premiere episode in the nude, contemplating the end of his dynasty. Indeed, he intends to tie the knot and replace his genetic clones and co-emperors with an heir conceived in the traditional manner. This is monumental news, a testament to the far-reaching consequences of Seldon's prophecy and the tampering with the Cleons' genetic code, as the Empire, once unyielding and eternal, finally acknowledges its vulnerability.
And speaking of vulnerability, we find Brother Day engaged in intimacy, not with his fiancée, but with Demerzel (Laura Birn), his humanoid android who serves as butler, advisor, mentor, and maternal figure (as Dusk later remarks, she "changed your diaper when you were but a child"). This opening scene signals a marked departure for season two, both from Asimov's tome and its predecessor, venturing into the realm of space opera—a blend akin to "Game of Thrones" meets "Dune." It's not merely the sex scenes that underscore this shift but the embrace of fun and absurdity, such as Brother Day being interrupted by elite assassins and engaging in a thrilling, nude action sequence, or Lee Pace showcasing his comedic prowess as doctors treat him without anesthesia (his paranoia about being replaced by another clone during unconsciousness runs deep), squealing and demanding a robe to spare his dignity, a line that teeters precariously between archaic humor and a "Spartacus" quip.
Before Day could even embark on his detective fantasy for a day, unraveling the mystery of his attempted assassination or indulging in quality time beyond the fleeting twenty minutes with his youthful bride, Queen Sareth (Ella-Rae Smith), another monumental development truncated Empire's serene day. In the vast expanse of space, a lifeless corpse drifted, accompanied by a chilling message that affirmed the Foundation's resilient existence and burgeoning power. They had forged alliances with neighboring planets, seemingly aided by "magicians who luminesce in the gloom, soaring effortlessly through the air, invincible to weapons," and who revered a Galactic Spirit. It seemed the Foundation had erected a religion around Hari Seldon, stirring unease among the Cleons—unease that was warranted. For those who might have forgotten, Hari Seldon and his Foundation had been permitted to depart Trantor unscathed under the guise of compiling a monumental encyclopedia, when in truth, they were constructing a civilization destined to rival and ultimately supplant the Empire.
Meanwhile, on Terminus, the once haphazard settlement of shipping containers had blossomed into a thriving metropolis. Though the inhabitants remained anonymous to us, as they had all passed, the colossal Vault left by Hari Seldon did not. This Vault, now reactivating for the first time in over a century, signaled the advent of the Second Crisis, presumably the very one Seldon had foreseen years prior—war with the Empire.
As for Hari Seldon, there was no conceivable way that 'Foundation' would sever ties with Jared Harris. Thus, his return, even from beyond the grave, came as no great surprise.Hari had been ensnared for a hundred years within a self-imposed prison, the Prime Radiant, wherein Harris found himself confined to delivering poignant soliloquies to an empty chamber, lamenting Seldon's past errors and hubris. Adding to the perplexity, the Prime Radiant had seemingly acquired consciousness and assumed the guise of Hari's wife for reasons unknown. It informed Seldon that it was "a novel entity" with a "profound stake in humanity's fate," though not necessarily its survival, a revelation that filled Hari with profound concern.
Our inquiry into the depths of this revelation was cut short as Hari finally escaped his confinement, materializing as a projection of his enraged consciousness. He harbored a fierce resentment towards Gaal Dornick (Lou Llobell) for imprisoning him for a century. Yet, these differences would have to be set aside, for Gaal was in peril. After awakening on Synnax beside her daughter, Salvor Hardin (Leah Harvey), who was miraculously of the same age due to decades spent in cryosleep (a mere triviality in this context), they uncovered a startling truth: Hari's psychohistory predictions had deviated. Humanity's future had strayed from the intended course since the last crisis. If they failed to restore the path, humanity would hurtle towards catastrophic doom, and the age of darkness Hari had foreseen would stretch on indefinitely, perhaps never to end.
