First Man

Running from Demons

written by

Maël

_I see the moon, and the moon sees me_ _Down through the leaves of the old oak tree._ _Please let the moon that shines on me_ _Shine on the one I love._ “I don't know what space exploration will uncover, but I don't think it'll be exploration just for the sake of exploration. I think it'll be more the fact that it allows us to see things. That maybe we should have seen a long time ago. But just haven't been able to until now.” Neil Armstrong: a test pilot, an engineer, an astronaut, a husband, and a father; a myth, greater than life, brought down to humanity. A man ambitious and constantly needing to move, test himself, push the world forward, because looking back is impossible. Grief. Pain. Suffering. The wailing theremin playing over a decade of needing to achieve something greater, running from the death of a child, running from his wife’s consolation, running from the consolation of anyone, running from his own surviving children. And fear. The fear that grips his heart. The fear he can’t show. As a constant companion, the moon looks out over all, and Armstrong looks back through his camera, filming. A silent conversation. A silent understanding. Always there, all through Gemini and Apollo. All through Neil’s life. “T-minus 15 seconds. Guidance is internal.” Three men sealed in their capsule, waiting, waiting, waiting… “12…” “11…” “10…” “9…” “Ignition sequence start.” BOOM Oranges and reds, fires and explosions, as the Sun watches on. Liftoff to the heavens. On the wings of Apollo, carrying light to the distant moon. Metal creaking against the stress of thousands of people’s work all brought together to make a rocket pierce the highest plane, to bring three humans to the face of that which was unreachable. To be a lonely man, haunted by death, and stare up at billions of people, alive, on Earth, the very planet escape from was most wanted; and think only of his lost daughter, Karen. To return to Earth, and be nothing more than a tool of politicking and nationalism; sequestered away in quarantine with a glass wall separating him and his wife. A false touch on the pane, and the uncertainty of the future. What a fucking picture. Beautiful. Jaw-droppingly beautiful. Justin Hurwitz’ score fucks so hard. Easily one of my favorites, ever. ‘Quarantine’ is one of the most gorgeous pieces of music produced. Waiting to watch this the day of Artemis II launching was well worth it. God, I love space. “We need to fail. We need to fail down here, so we don’t fail up there.”