Early on during Fox’s new version of Cosmos, host Neil deGrasse Tyson shares what is likely a guiding principle for his life and work, but certainly a fundamental premise of this new show: “Science gives us the power to see what our senses cannot.”
What our senses can’t see without science — and some extremely impressive animation and effects work by the show’s producers — is the universe around us. Tyson and his “Ship of the Imagination” (a sleek update of Carl Sagan’s original concept that would fit comfortably in any current sci-fi film) takes us on a guided tour of the solar system, of the galaxy, pushing the view further and further out until we reach the limit of our knowledge and perception. There’s only so much we know. There may be only so much we ever know.
For many, that could be a stopping point. How interested can we be, or should we be, in something so abstract, something we can’t see or perhaps even comprehend? In Tyson’s view, however, that uncertainty should be what fuels our desire to learn more. It’s there — we just haven’t seen it yet. And that should excite us. Why wouldn’t it excite us? How could you not want to learn more about this? Come on and join him on his magic spaceship ride!
Above all, the intent of Cosmos seems to be getting you to look up from your laptop, put down your phone, stop playing games and chatting, realize what the hell is going on around you (in a cosmic sense) and appreciate just how amazing everything is. A byproduct of that is telling us to get over ourselves. We are but a tiny speck of dust on the table that is the universe. Existence as we know it — or what we know of it — is so very small in the big, infinite picture.
But Tyson and Cosmos try to make that concept accessible by framing it in terms we can understand. In perhaps the best segment of the first episode, Tyson lays out the existence of the universe as if it were a 12-month calendar. The Big Bang, of course, would be Jan. 1 on this calendar, while humanity would be Dec. 31 — not just the last day, but the very last seconds of this cosmic year. If this calendar was on your desk, we would be the extremely tiny tip of the lower-left corner.
This is one of several moments in Cosmos’ first episode meant to make you go, “Whoa…!” And you can sense Tyson in front of you, smiling and saying, I know — right?” The astrophysicist is the perfect host for the show, having been an ambassador and champion of science in the culture for years. He’s obviously comfortable talking to fellow academics, but also makes a great guest on shows like The Daily Show, The Colbert Report and Real Time with Bill Maher because he’s intelligent, funny and entertainingly intolerant of those who willfully ignore the facts that science presents.
Most importantly, Tyson is engaging enough that you want to listen to him. (So many already have, from Tyson’s days of hosting Nova on PBS to his StarTalk podcast.) The man is a really good talker and an enthusiastic teacher. And he’s great on Twitter.
(Two years ago, Tyson was even a character in a Superman comic, showing the Man of Steel his home world of Krypton. Because who else would you want to consult with Superman about his home planet and how he traveled to Earth than Neil deGrasse Tyson?)
But there’s also something personal in this for Tyson, as he shares toward the end of the first episode. Sagan was a hero of his, a mentor. As a 17-year-old from the Bronx, Tyson traveled to Cornell to visit Sagan and spend the day with him. Sagan welcomed him with open arms, signed his books, offered him lodging and inspired the young man to follow his interests and curiosities. Hosting Cosmos is a legacy for Tyson, one he’s clearly honored to fulfill as tribute to a man who meant so much to him.
The show looks fantastic. As mentioned earlier, the cosmic landscapes created by animation and visual effects are as impressive as anything you’d see in a Hollywood blockbuster. This show isn’t restricted by the public television budget that Sagan’s original PBS incarnation of Cosmos had to work with. (And, of course, computer-generated imagery has come a long, long way in more than 30 years.) The producers have invested some serious money into this project and it’s impressively apparent on screen.
One of my first thoughts as I was watching the show was that my TV isn’t nearly big enough. I was watching on the smaller screen in my bedroom. This is one you’ll want to watch on the big screen in your living room. The show seems to be why HD televisions were invented. Retailers like Best Buy will want to play episodes of Cosmos on the sales floor to show customers what their televisions are capable of showing. It’s not just hockey and golf that looks great on those sets, folks.
Watching Cosmos on the big screen in your living room raises another thought. If this is meant to be Sunday night family-friendly programming — and it’s easy to imagine parents watching this with their children, with everyone in awe and learning — why isn’t Fox showing this at 7 p.m., instead of 9 p.m. when many kids are presumably going to bed? (Even worse is the Monday night replay on National Geographic Channel, which broadcasts at 10 p.m.) Or did the kids already get their fill of programming with Fox’s animation block?
Speaking of that animation block, one of the biggest surprises behind the scenes of Cosmos, if you didn’t already know, is that Family Guy impresario Seth McFarlane is a key figure responsible for the show’s revival. “Cosmos Being Brought Back by Seth McFarlane” seems more like an Onion headline than actual news.
The guy who’s created some of TV’s raunchiest (and funniest) prime-time content is shepherding Carl Sagan’s original science vehicle? Yet we should all be grateful that McFarlane has enough influence and clout with Fox to get this series made. It surely wasn’t an easy sell for prime-time programming. Any worries that Peter Griffin will tell us about Uranus are unfounded. Besides, would Tyson really let that happen? He’s more concerned with battling the war on science, as CNN’s Brian Stelter calls it, or what President Obama termed “the flat earth society.” Educating the masses, fighting for science’s place in the culture and respecting our role in the universe is far more important work.
If you missed Cosmos Sunday night, try to catch that replay on NatGeo or check it out on Hulu. The stuff with the spaceship might seem a bit cheesy, but it’s all fun. (That is, unless you feel the show might be challenging your religious or anti-science beliefs. It’s not for everyone, nor is it intended to be.) Cosmos will make you feel like a kid again. Or maybe take you back to those dorm-room discussions (perhaps drug- or alcohol-fueled, perhaps not) when you contemplated existence, the origins of trees and the vastness of outer space. It restores a sense of wonder, which is what great television should do.
