The general premise undergirding alternate history narratives is a relatively simple one: take a specific point in the past and then game out that age-old question of "what if…?" By focusing on pivotal historical events and human choices, these types of stories thrive on generating an ever-expanding decision tree of increasingly complex causal scenarios, resulting in a cascading butterfly effect that ripples through time to create stark new realities. As Harry Turtledove, the veritable godfather of 20th century alternate history, put it: "Establishing the historical breakpoint is only half of the game … The other half ... is imagining what would spring from the proposed change."
Fortunately, such imagination is in abundance when it comes to For All Mankind, the flagship series of Apple TV+'s sci-fi programming slate. Created by Ronald D. Moore (Star Trek, Battlestar Galactica, Outlander), Matt Wolpert and Ben Nedivi, the series chooses 1966 as its "Point of Divergence," with rocket engineer Sergei Korolyov surviving routine surgery in Russia and going on to lead the Soviet space program, resulting in the USSR beating NASA to the punch and cosmonaut Alexei Leonov becoming the first human to walk on the Moon in 1969.
Utilizing many real people and historical sources as inspiration, For All Mankind runs with the central conceit of "What if the space race never ended?" and, accordingly, its first two seasons envisioned a world that is radically different from our own. Season 1 focuses on the escalation of an intensified space race well into the 1970s, with increased representation of women and people of colour in the astro- and cosmonaut ranks, the establishment of competing US and Soviet moon bases — Jamestown and Zvezda respectively — and the discovery of lunar ice. Jumping forward to a Ronald Reagan-helmed 1980s (having defeated single-term incumbent Ted Kennedy in the 1976 presidential election), Season 2 ramped up the Cold War tensions between the US and Soviet Union on the Moon, with shadow surveillance, hasty militarization, nuclear energy and avoidable death all becoming fixtures of lunar life.
This established precedent for increasing historical divergence and time-jumping shenanigans means that the expository montage that opens For All Mankind's third season is a delightfully welcome development. It's now 1992: the USSR and US have narrowly avoided the threat of nuclear war, signing a treaty to divide the Moon into mutual zones of operation. The Soviet Union is prospering under Mikhail Gorbachev's hybrid socialist market economy, and their Western sphere of influence has extended beyond Cuba with a recent Communist Party victory in Mexico. After defeating Reagan in 1984, US President Gary Hart is nearing the end of his two-term run, with Bill Clinton and former astronaut Ellen Wilson (Jodi Balfour), now a Republican senator and member of "Nixon's Women," facing off for the top job.
The world is also shown to be going through a commercial space boom, with India and China both launching their own space programs, North Korea transitioning their ballistic missile program into orbital rocketry, and clean nuclear fusion energy (made possible due to the Moon's plentiful reserves of helium-3) helping to avert global warming, thanks to technology developed by the billionaire co-founder of Helios Aerospace, Dev Ayesa (Edi Gathegi).
The latest season opens with Karen Baldwin (Shantel VanSanten) aboard Polaris, a luxury space hotel that rotates its wheel-shaped habitat module to generate artificial gravity. Having successfully moved into the space tourism business, Karen plays host to a number of familiar faces, including her ex-husband Ed Baldwin (Joel Kinnaman) and Danielle Poole (Krys Marshall), who have arrived for the wedding of second-generation NASA astronaut Danny Stevens (Casey W. Johnson). After some uncomfortable speeches (and a painful reminder of Karen's infidelity and one-time affair with Danny), this opulent setting soon turns deadly, as debris from a ditched North Korean rocket causes boosters to misfire and the hotel's rotation to drastically accelerate, increasing artificial gravity along with it. Much like the lunar solar flare disaster that kicked off Season 2, all this setup makes for the kind of nail-biting opening set piece the series excels at — one that ultimately ends with acts of death-defying courage saving the day, even as lives are tragically lost and some hang (quite literally) in the balance.
Perhaps more so than any other reference point in contemporary sci-fi, the real strength of For All Mankind's narrative storytelling rests on the show's ability to make space travel feel inhospitable. Even with the diligent ground operations of the Johnson Space Center and supremely competent characters like NASA director Margo Madison (Wrenn Schmidt), lead engineer Aleida Rosales (Coral Peña), and astronaut program commander Molly Cobb in charge of the big decisions, things inevitably do go wrong, and some people don't make it home. No amount of training, routine or experience can compensate for pure, random chance. With the notion of fragility as its guiding theme across Season 3, For All Mankind repeatedly drives this point home, often shockingly — and violently — if necessary.
Margo, who has been quietly committing espionage in the name of cooperation, is forced to question her working relationship with Sergei after threats from his KGB handlers become impossible to avoid. Aleida is focused on making her revolutionary rocket design work, even if that means neglecting her marriage and her father's deteriorating health. Molly makes a tough call between Ed and Danielle for the commander for the upcoming Mars mission and must live with the consequences. Ed and Karen's adopted daughter, Kelly (Cynthy Wu), returns from a posting in Antarctica and is forced to choose between her love for science and her parents' motivations. Meanwhile, Danny's unhealthy fixation on Karen threatens to endanger his family, his colleagues and his career, leading him down an increasingly unhinged spiral of substance abuse and self-destruction.
With the Moon now the site of an uneasy détente between world superpowers, the series wisely sets its sights on a new destination, promptly taking its generational space drama to the Red Planet with thrilling results. As hinted at the end of Season 2, we know that humans walk across the surface of Mars in 1995, so the question quickly settles around who will get there first. After the Polaris debacle, Karen makes a deal with Ayesa, who straps a methane engine to the former space hotel and turns it into the Phoenix, declaring his intent via surprise press conference to launch the first private space mission to Mars in 1994. This revelation shakes the tree at NASA and Roscosmos, causing both agencies to hurriedly ramp up their efforts for already planned 1996 launches and not be left behind.
Overall, it's a smart decision on the part of the show's writers and showrunners, introducing both a ticking clock element into the plot and a formidable new rival into what was a decidedly two-horse race. With the narrative stakes now raised, another mid-season time-jump pitches us even further into the future, this time to Launch Day, 1994. Helios and Phoenix are first off the mark, launching from low-Earth orbit, followed by NASA's Sojourner One from Jamestown, and the USSR's Mars-94 taking off from Baikonur. With Mars now firmly in sight, nothing is certain, and everything is fair game once more. Relationships are tested, factions formed, allegiances broken, and yes, lives tragically lost.
Yet, much to the show's credit, Mars is not the Moon, and interesting questions are posed in this new and hostile environment. Is life simply a contest between free will and fate? Can old friends (or lovers) move beyond their past and embrace the endless possibilities of the future? How do we move out of the shadow of legacy and strive for our own individuality? In the competition between capitalism and communism, is there room for a third option? While the Red Planet does present a whole host of challenges to be overcome by the show's intrepid explorers, Season 3 continually ups the ante with grit, determination and painful verisimilitude, proving why For All Mankind is one of the best and most consistent sci-fi series in living memory.
(Apple)Fortunately, such imagination is in abundance when it comes to For All Mankind, the flagship series of Apple TV+'s sci-fi programming slate. Created by Ronald D. Moore (Star Trek, Battlestar Galactica, Outlander), Matt Wolpert and Ben Nedivi, the series chooses 1966 as its "Point of Divergence," with rocket engineer Sergei Korolyov surviving routine surgery in Russia and going on to lead the Soviet space program, resulting in the USSR beating NASA to the punch and cosmonaut Alexei Leonov becoming the first human to walk on the Moon in 1969.
Utilizing many real people and historical sources as inspiration, For All Mankind runs with the central conceit of "What if the space race never ended?" and, accordingly, its first two seasons envisioned a world that is radically different from our own. Season 1 focuses on the escalation of an intensified space race well into the 1970s, with increased representation of women and people of colour in the astro- and cosmonaut ranks, the establishment of competing US and Soviet moon bases — Jamestown and Zvezda respectively — and the discovery of lunar ice. Jumping forward to a Ronald Reagan-helmed 1980s (having defeated single-term incumbent Ted Kennedy in the 1976 presidential election), Season 2 ramped up the Cold War tensions between the US and Soviet Union on the Moon, with shadow surveillance, hasty militarization, nuclear energy and avoidable death all becoming fixtures of lunar life.
This established precedent for increasing historical divergence and time-jumping shenanigans means that the expository montage that opens For All Mankind's third season is a delightfully welcome development. It's now 1992: the USSR and US have narrowly avoided the threat of nuclear war, signing a treaty to divide the Moon into mutual zones of operation. The Soviet Union is prospering under Mikhail Gorbachev's hybrid socialist market economy, and their Western sphere of influence has extended beyond Cuba with a recent Communist Party victory in Mexico. After defeating Reagan in 1984, US President Gary Hart is nearing the end of his two-term run, with Bill Clinton and former astronaut Ellen Wilson (Jodi Balfour), now a Republican senator and member of "Nixon's Women," facing off for the top job.
The world is also shown to be going through a commercial space boom, with India and China both launching their own space programs, North Korea transitioning their ballistic missile program into orbital rocketry, and clean nuclear fusion energy (made possible due to the Moon's plentiful reserves of helium-3) helping to avert global warming, thanks to technology developed by the billionaire co-founder of Helios Aerospace, Dev Ayesa (Edi Gathegi).
The latest season opens with Karen Baldwin (Shantel VanSanten) aboard Polaris, a luxury space hotel that rotates its wheel-shaped habitat module to generate artificial gravity. Having successfully moved into the space tourism business, Karen plays host to a number of familiar faces, including her ex-husband Ed Baldwin (Joel Kinnaman) and Danielle Poole (Krys Marshall), who have arrived for the wedding of second-generation NASA astronaut Danny Stevens (Casey W. Johnson). After some uncomfortable speeches (and a painful reminder of Karen's infidelity and one-time affair with Danny), this opulent setting soon turns deadly, as debris from a ditched North Korean rocket causes boosters to misfire and the hotel's rotation to drastically accelerate, increasing artificial gravity along with it. Much like the lunar solar flare disaster that kicked off Season 2, all this setup makes for the kind of nail-biting opening set piece the series excels at — one that ultimately ends with acts of death-defying courage saving the day, even as lives are tragically lost and some hang (quite literally) in the balance.
Perhaps more so than any other reference point in contemporary sci-fi, the real strength of For All Mankind's narrative storytelling rests on the show's ability to make space travel feel inhospitable. Even with the diligent ground operations of the Johnson Space Center and supremely competent characters like NASA director Margo Madison (Wrenn Schmidt), lead engineer Aleida Rosales (Coral Peña), and astronaut program commander Molly Cobb in charge of the big decisions, things inevitably do go wrong, and some people don't make it home. No amount of training, routine or experience can compensate for pure, random chance. With the notion of fragility as its guiding theme across Season 3, For All Mankind repeatedly drives this point home, often shockingly — and violently — if necessary.
Margo, who has been quietly committing espionage in the name of cooperation, is forced to question her working relationship with Sergei after threats from his KGB handlers become impossible to avoid. Aleida is focused on making her revolutionary rocket design work, even if that means neglecting her marriage and her father's deteriorating health. Molly makes a tough call between Ed and Danielle for the commander for the upcoming Mars mission and must live with the consequences. Ed and Karen's adopted daughter, Kelly (Cynthy Wu), returns from a posting in Antarctica and is forced to choose between her love for science and her parents' motivations. Meanwhile, Danny's unhealthy fixation on Karen threatens to endanger his family, his colleagues and his career, leading him down an increasingly unhinged spiral of substance abuse and self-destruction.
With the Moon now the site of an uneasy détente between world superpowers, the series wisely sets its sights on a new destination, promptly taking its generational space drama to the Red Planet with thrilling results. As hinted at the end of Season 2, we know that humans walk across the surface of Mars in 1995, so the question quickly settles around who will get there first. After the Polaris debacle, Karen makes a deal with Ayesa, who straps a methane engine to the former space hotel and turns it into the Phoenix, declaring his intent via surprise press conference to launch the first private space mission to Mars in 1994. This revelation shakes the tree at NASA and Roscosmos, causing both agencies to hurriedly ramp up their efforts for already planned 1996 launches and not be left behind.
Overall, it's a smart decision on the part of the show's writers and showrunners, introducing both a ticking clock element into the plot and a formidable new rival into what was a decidedly two-horse race. With the narrative stakes now raised, another mid-season time-jump pitches us even further into the future, this time to Launch Day, 1994. Helios and Phoenix are first off the mark, launching from low-Earth orbit, followed by NASA's Sojourner One from Jamestown, and the USSR's Mars-94 taking off from Baikonur. With Mars now firmly in sight, nothing is certain, and everything is fair game once more. Relationships are tested, factions formed, allegiances broken, and yes, lives tragically lost.
Yet, much to the show's credit, Mars is not the Moon, and interesting questions are posed in this new and hostile environment. Is life simply a contest between free will and fate? Can old friends (or lovers) move beyond their past and embrace the endless possibilities of the future? How do we move out of the shadow of legacy and strive for our own individuality? In the competition between capitalism and communism, is there room for a third option? While the Red Planet does present a whole host of challenges to be overcome by the show's intrepid explorers, Season 3 continually ups the ante with grit, determination and painful verisimilitude, proving why For All Mankind is one of the best and most consistent sci-fi series in living memory.
