I don't tend to idolise people, but the late Carl Sagan was an inspirational yuman. He can hardly take credit for the wonders of the cosmos he so artfully detailed in speech and print, but in communicating them with essential simplicity, poetic elegance and relatable urgency, delivered in an enjoyably imitable style, the messages even got through to a trivial imbecile like me.
It's a shame his landmark TV series Cosmos (1980) wasn't part of my childhood, but I got to it in time to avoid having to settle for Brian Cox or Neil deGrasse Tyson's Sainsbury's Basics equivalents. Rest assured it's going to be at the core of my daughter's extracurricular curriculum until she's similarly devoted or sick of the guy in the turtleneck with the weird voice.
Timeless in many ways, as a time capsule viewed at increasing distance from contemporary understanding and experience it's inevitably dated in others, but this has the positive side effect of ever-expanding retro charm, especially in the sound and vision departments. It literally has everything.
A magnificent overture to all that ever was or ever will be and our infinitesimal position therein. The rest can only be elaboration. The cosmic calendar is an incredibly effective analogy that makes the scale of universal time as comprehensible as possible without my brain exploding.
"Intellectual capacity is no guarantee against being dead wrong."
2. One Voice in the Cosmic Fugue
Narrowing our cosmic gaze to focus on one puny planet's biology can't avoid feeling somewhat lacking, but these are the limitations we have to work under at present. Still, the customarily elegant evolution explanation was no doubt extremely useful for many of the series' multitude of viewers (and the animation adorably quaint) and the DNA sequence still boggles my mind. Our patience is rewarded with a hard sci-fi denouement that was always one of my favourite parts of the series.
It's always alarming to be reminded of how recently belief and practice of astrology were widespread before Carl's patient dismantling of the obvious brought everyone to their senses. This lengthy historical detour is more than a respectful tribute to astrophysicists past, continually demonstrating how easy it is to fall into the trap of drawing coincidental conclusions. In the book, Kepler even passes by a town named Sagan to test your mettle.
Seeing our formerly unflappable host become visibly frustrated by crackpot theories and make snarky comments is an ominous warm-up to his horror at how we're treating our non-disposable planet. The last ten minutes are a difficult watch that you won't necessarily be in the mood for when putting on your awe-inspiring space show, but they might be the most valuable takeaway from the series.
"We ravage the Earth at an accelerated pace, as if it belonged to this one generation, as if it were ours to do with as we please."
5. Blues for a Red Planet
One of the more contemporary time-capsules, virtual cruises along arid Martian canals and terraforming daydreams have a sense of desperate propaganda about them, especially contrasted against last week's hippy ideals. The more compelling story is that of the anthropomorphised Viking landers, designed to seek out new life within conventional parameters with no awareness of their own potential.
Our outward voyage meets the Voyager probes in the Jovian system and we're treated to rare glimpses of our aloof presenter in his element, debating hot-off-the-press images of new worlds with his contemporaries. The extended analogy of Dutch seafarers comes off like bloated padding in comparison, even if that Huygens was admittedly quite the guy.
The most grounded and introspective instalment so far ends up being one of the most awe-inspiring as we make the psychic voyage from curious cavemen through problematic Greek geniuses to fellow '80s kids getting their minds blown in real time by images of galactic clusters and the promise of exoplanets in our lifetime that didn't disappoint.
"Sometimes I think, how lucky we are to live in this time, the first moment in human history when we are, in fact, visiting other worlds."
The speed of light is explained in the simplest possible terms that are still beyond my understanding, though at least I finally get how the solar system and planets work. The documentary then takes another surprising sci-fi turn with ruminations on time travel paradoxes, alternate realities and practical designs for interstellar spaceships, give or take 10,000 years.
A distinctly surreal instalment, contemplating warping an infinity of mostly nothing leads Carl to delirious ramblings about unlikely neutron star attacks and overcomplicated apple pie recipes. I learned about the inevitable death of the solar system from my Weetabix space book when I was 8, but that sequence was still affecting.
A disappointing episode by the usual high standards, from its overreliance on cruddy Sesame Street animations to its overlong Flatland summary and selective appreciation of the one major religion that got its timeline in roughly the right ballpark. Even the concept of an infinite regress of infinities failed to move me, maybe I'm operating on a higher level now.
"We're interested in communication with extraterrestrial intelligence. Wouldn't a good beginning be better communication with terrestrial intelligence?"
A literally cerebral instalment as we look inward to the monomicrocosmos, its dated analogies for advances in communication and data storage make the message even clearer. The soundtrack was particularly awesome in this one too, from analogue synthscapes to a cappella whalesong.
Devoting a whole episode to seemingly groundless speculation and fantasy feels like a bit of a waste, but it's doubtless what many viewers were waiting for, so time to disappoint them with maths and nuclear pessism. Carl may have been surprised we've held out this long, I wonder whether our odds have improved on 40% yet.
Don't worry if you haven't been paying attention; this didactic clip show finale recaps the lessons you should have learned over a hypnotic slide show across space and time. Bon voyage.
"A new consciousness is developing which sees the earth as a single organism and recognises that an organism at war with itself is doomed."
