Photo: Apple TV
I can't guarantee I can spare you the umpteenth zillenial sob story as I recount my career in aerospace journalism these last two years or so. But as it turns out, terminally online automotive/aerospace journalists have brains, neurons, and negative deltas of happy chemicals like anyone else. But I'll cut to the chase as much as possible. At a time when the world felt like it was caving in on me, one unassuming show on Apple TV legitimately changed my life.
Don't get it twisted; this is not an endorsement of Apple streaming services. I also would've had no problem getting one of my friends to rip me an MP4 copy of it if I didn't want to genuinely support the cast for their performance. But let me tell you, 'For All Mankind' is a cut above the rest as far as I'm concerned. A show well worth subscribing to a bespoke service for just to watch it.
For a particular set of people to whom space-related fiction is their bread and butter, totally their thing, the story of what would've happened had the Soviets beaten NASA to be the first on the Moon is as captivating of a plot device as was ever dreamed up by an alternate history writer. It also happens that I was introduced to 'For All Mankind' at a pivotal point in my career, and hell, my life in general. I'll never forget the day that Daniel Patrascu, our Project Manager here at autoevolution, gave me the green light to start covering space news alongside himself.
My first few months of working with the fine folks here were spent paying my dues and covering the often eye-wateringly boring automotive press releases and other pieces of relatively dull hard news that come along with the more exciting stories we have the pleasure of writing. We can't always write about supercars and fighter jets, as it turns out; the more mundane but equally important stuff needs to have its place, too. After doing that for a time, the higher-ups around here finally felt confident enough in my abilities to cover space as a news beat, the same niche Daniel had diligently held down for years before I arrived here.
But as much as I loved learning everything I could about the daily goings-on at NASA and space agencies worldwide, I always had this dull ache that something was always missing. I just couldn't convince myself in good faith that I was genuinely playing a part in chronicling the blooming of what we can call the Second Great Space Race while sitting in my apartment in a shirt covered with Cheeto dust and week-old Baja Blast stains while covering NASA press release feeds with bloodshot eyes.
Effectively, there wasn't much of anything different I could've offered people looking for space news doing things that way. But at this stage in my life, that being early-to-mid 2022, I'd convinced myself that the live, close-up reporting style concerning space travel was a privilege reserved for a select few. The types of reporters with decades of experience and the financial horsepower of a big-name old media company. At the same time, I was going through the same above-mentioned zilennial sob story we've all grown sick and tired of hearing.
You know, the whole woe-is-me rant about trying to keep the rent paid and the student loan companies off your keister like a never-ending match of Call of Duty Zombies. I need not tug at your heartstrings with that whole mess. But suffice to say, it was enough to reach a sort of critical mass on my mental health and give me a very much unwanted doomer attitude toward my life prospects. But then I happened upon a few trailer videos on YouTube during one of my nightly doom-scrolling sessions for a show that looked totally up my alley.
"How have I not seen this before?" I recanted to myself, looking at 'For All Mankind's' promotional material for its first season. "And there's already two seasons? Sweet!" is probably something along the lines of what I was thinking. Try as I might, I couldn't find a stream for the show through my typical channels. I was going to have to pony up some of my weekly "bread" to the big, bad Apple Inc. in order to watch this exciting new show I'd found. But even after just watching the opening pre-title scroll scene where Americans are forced to watch in horror as the Soviets brought the world a "Red Moon," I was already hooked.
As it happens, the 'For All Mankind' Main Title sequence turned into something of a daily anticipation as I worked my way through the show's first two seasons. Something about that opening score composed by the uber-talented rock musician and composer Jeff Russo put me in a trance before every episode. For the time it took to watch each episode, as I watched the stories of so many powerhouse characters with strong personalities work their magic, everything was right in the world.
Because, as it turns out, what would've likely happened had Alexei Leonov reached the Moon first and not Neil Armstrong is NASA takes the proverbial gloves off and returns swinging for payback. You know, quite unlike how things played out in real life. As we see the stories of brave astronauts like Ed Baldwin, Danielle Poole, Molly Cobb, and Tracy and Gordo Stevens and their equally talented support team at Houston, led by the fiery powerhouse engineer Margo Madison and her fiery understudy Aleida Rosales, you can't help but think we have the short end of the stick in our reality.
This is especially true after seeing some of the insane spacecraft FAM's creative team dreamed up in later seasons. I mean, a second-generation nuclear-powered Space Shuttle and fusion-powered Mars-capable spaceships in an alternate mid-1990s? Where do I have to sign up to make that a reality? But without giving away any more spoilers, it's safe to say 'For All Mankind' is the space drama enthusiast's space drama. Almost like an attempt to bridge the gap between more advanced space dramas like Star Trek and more reality-based space travel that could've realistically played out had events gone even a little differently.
It also does so while simultaneously showcasing a diverse group of people from different ethnic backgrounds and sensibilities without coming off as preachy or in your face with its social commentary. Being able to handle topics like attitudes towards homosexual relationships, racial struggles, geopolitical nuclear brinkmanship, and the search for life outside of Earth while still driving an engaging plot that stands out on its own is a testament to the creative talent of FAM's creators, Matt Wolpert, Ben Nedivi, and Ronald D. Moore. Oh, and Andrew Stanton, the director for Wall-E, my all-time animated kid's movie ever, directed a few episodes in seasons two and three. Because of course he did; it only makes logical sense that game respect game.
As far as I was concerned, FAM was the perfect TV miniseries. The performances of a borderline ridiculously talented cast starring Joel Kinnaman, Wrenn Schmitt, Krys Marshall, Shantel VanSanten, Cynthy Wu, and Coral Pena, among so many others, had genuinely captivated me in a way almost no other piece of media ever did. An alternate timeline so full of hope, optimism, and triumph ignited a drive in me to try and help make that timeline manifest in the flesh. I wanted to be in the thick of the action as NASA's Artemis program tried to play out a similar story to what unfolded in 'For All Mankind', and this time, I wasn't going to let a bad attitude get in my way.
After finishing the second season, I figured there was nothing to lose in shooting an e-mail to NASA's media relations team to see if there wasn't a spot out there somewhere for me at the Kennedy Space Center to report on the then-upcoming launch of Artemis I. It was the first NASA launch related to a human-crewed lunar landing program in over half a century. Long story short, it turned out there really was room for me at KSC.
No less than a few months later, there I was no more than two hundred yards or so from the Vehicle Assembly Building, interviewing Lockheed Martin ATLO engineers about the Orion command capsule and ESA technical personnel about the real ins and outs of Europe's contribution to Artemis I, the European Service Module. Throughout it all, the inaugural SLS super-heavy launch vehicle stood there on Launch Pad 39B, no more than a few hundred yards away.
I'd done it, mission accomplished; there I was in the thick of the action as a real space reporter, just a few months after I'd passed off the idea as impossible. It turns out there are more than a few benefits to taking on the attitude of a maverick astronaut or rocket scientist. Since then, I've had the unbelievable privilege of interviewing Jeremy Hansen, a former RCAF CF-18 pilot and crew member of Artemis II, the first intentional circumnavigation of lunar orbit since 1968. I also had the chance to attend a ground testing press event for Dream Chaser, the first privately-funded reusable spaceplane built after the Space Shuttle's retirement at the NASA Neil A. Armstrong Test Facility in Ohio.
It really is remarkable what a difference a year can make. But in the spirit of a show that encourages you to defy the odds, to endeavor towards a cause that seems hopeless, but you keep on fighting regardless, 'For All Mankind' was a small step for Apple TV and one giant leap for an eternally grateful young journalist.
For a particular set of people to whom space-related fiction is their bread and butter, totally their thing, the story of what would've happened had the Soviets beaten NASA to be the first on the Moon is as captivating of a plot device as was ever dreamed up by an alternate history writer. It also happens that I was introduced to 'For All Mankind' at a pivotal point in my career, and hell, my life in general. I'll never forget the day that Daniel Patrascu, our Project Manager here at autoevolution, gave me the green light to start covering space news alongside himself.
My first few months of working with the fine folks here were spent paying my dues and covering the often eye-wateringly boring automotive press releases and other pieces of relatively dull hard news that come along with the more exciting stories we have the pleasure of writing. We can't always write about supercars and fighter jets, as it turns out; the more mundane but equally important stuff needs to have its place, too. After doing that for a time, the higher-ups around here finally felt confident enough in my abilities to cover space as a news beat, the same niche Daniel had diligently held down for years before I arrived here.
But as much as I loved learning everything I could about the daily goings-on at NASA and space agencies worldwide, I always had this dull ache that something was always missing. I just couldn't convince myself in good faith that I was genuinely playing a part in chronicling the blooming of what we can call the Second Great Space Race while sitting in my apartment in a shirt covered with Cheeto dust and week-old Baja Blast stains while covering NASA press release feeds with bloodshot eyes.
Effectively, there wasn't much of anything different I could've offered people looking for space news doing things that way. But at this stage in my life, that being early-to-mid 2022, I'd convinced myself that the live, close-up reporting style concerning space travel was a privilege reserved for a select few. The types of reporters with decades of experience and the financial horsepower of a big-name old media company. At the same time, I was going through the same above-mentioned zilennial sob story we've all grown sick and tired of hearing.
You know, the whole woe-is-me rant about trying to keep the rent paid and the student loan companies off your keister like a never-ending match of Call of Duty Zombies. I need not tug at your heartstrings with that whole mess. But suffice to say, it was enough to reach a sort of critical mass on my mental health and give me a very much unwanted doomer attitude toward my life prospects. But then I happened upon a few trailer videos on YouTube during one of my nightly doom-scrolling sessions for a show that looked totally up my alley.
"How have I not seen this before?" I recanted to myself, looking at 'For All Mankind's' promotional material for its first season. "And there's already two seasons? Sweet!" is probably something along the lines of what I was thinking. Try as I might, I couldn't find a stream for the show through my typical channels. I was going to have to pony up some of my weekly "bread" to the big, bad Apple Inc. in order to watch this exciting new show I'd found. But even after just watching the opening pre-title scroll scene where Americans are forced to watch in horror as the Soviets brought the world a "Red Moon," I was already hooked.
As it happens, the 'For All Mankind' Main Title sequence turned into something of a daily anticipation as I worked my way through the show's first two seasons. Something about that opening score composed by the uber-talented rock musician and composer Jeff Russo put me in a trance before every episode. For the time it took to watch each episode, as I watched the stories of so many powerhouse characters with strong personalities work their magic, everything was right in the world.
Because, as it turns out, what would've likely happened had Alexei Leonov reached the Moon first and not Neil Armstrong is NASA takes the proverbial gloves off and returns swinging for payback. You know, quite unlike how things played out in real life. As we see the stories of brave astronauts like Ed Baldwin, Danielle Poole, Molly Cobb, and Tracy and Gordo Stevens and their equally talented support team at Houston, led by the fiery powerhouse engineer Margo Madison and her fiery understudy Aleida Rosales, you can't help but think we have the short end of the stick in our reality.
This is especially true after seeing some of the insane spacecraft FAM's creative team dreamed up in later seasons. I mean, a second-generation nuclear-powered Space Shuttle and fusion-powered Mars-capable spaceships in an alternate mid-1990s? Where do I have to sign up to make that a reality? But without giving away any more spoilers, it's safe to say 'For All Mankind' is the space drama enthusiast's space drama. Almost like an attempt to bridge the gap between more advanced space dramas like Star Trek and more reality-based space travel that could've realistically played out had events gone even a little differently.
It also does so while simultaneously showcasing a diverse group of people from different ethnic backgrounds and sensibilities without coming off as preachy or in your face with its social commentary. Being able to handle topics like attitudes towards homosexual relationships, racial struggles, geopolitical nuclear brinkmanship, and the search for life outside of Earth while still driving an engaging plot that stands out on its own is a testament to the creative talent of FAM's creators, Matt Wolpert, Ben Nedivi, and Ronald D. Moore. Oh, and Andrew Stanton, the director for Wall-E, my all-time animated kid's movie ever, directed a few episodes in seasons two and three. Because of course he did; it only makes logical sense that game respect game.
As far as I was concerned, FAM was the perfect TV miniseries. The performances of a borderline ridiculously talented cast starring Joel Kinnaman, Wrenn Schmitt, Krys Marshall, Shantel VanSanten, Cynthy Wu, and Coral Pena, among so many others, had genuinely captivated me in a way almost no other piece of media ever did. An alternate timeline so full of hope, optimism, and triumph ignited a drive in me to try and help make that timeline manifest in the flesh. I wanted to be in the thick of the action as NASA's Artemis program tried to play out a similar story to what unfolded in 'For All Mankind', and this time, I wasn't going to let a bad attitude get in my way.
After finishing the second season, I figured there was nothing to lose in shooting an e-mail to NASA's media relations team to see if there wasn't a spot out there somewhere for me at the Kennedy Space Center to report on the then-upcoming launch of Artemis I. It was the first NASA launch related to a human-crewed lunar landing program in over half a century. Long story short, it turned out there really was room for me at KSC.
No less than a few months later, there I was no more than two hundred yards or so from the Vehicle Assembly Building, interviewing Lockheed Martin ATLO engineers about the Orion command capsule and ESA technical personnel about the real ins and outs of Europe's contribution to Artemis I, the European Service Module. Throughout it all, the inaugural SLS super-heavy launch vehicle stood there on Launch Pad 39B, no more than a few hundred yards away.
I'd done it, mission accomplished; there I was in the thick of the action as a real space reporter, just a few months after I'd passed off the idea as impossible. It turns out there are more than a few benefits to taking on the attitude of a maverick astronaut or rocket scientist. Since then, I've had the unbelievable privilege of interviewing Jeremy Hansen, a former RCAF CF-18 pilot and crew member of Artemis II, the first intentional circumnavigation of lunar orbit since 1968. I also had the chance to attend a ground testing press event for Dream Chaser, the first privately-funded reusable spaceplane built after the Space Shuttle's retirement at the NASA Neil A. Armstrong Test Facility in Ohio.
It really is remarkable what a difference a year can make. But in the spirit of a show that encourages you to defy the odds, to endeavor towards a cause that seems hopeless, but you keep on fighting regardless, 'For All Mankind' was a small step for Apple TV and one giant leap for an eternally grateful young journalist.
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