It was the greatest moment in mankind’s history, better than any one person, better than what we thought we could be; a moment that froze the world in awe and inspiration. It was a moment marred neither by war nor by simply succeeding to do the right thing after fighting too hard or too long for what should have been obvious. It emphasized only the best of what humanity can do in terms of collaboration, integrity, and innovation; and nothing has ever surpassed it. This moment is when mankind set foot on the Moon.

Whiplash and La La Land director Damien Chazelle’s First Man frames this moment through the life of Neil Armstrong and how deeply personal the mission to the Moon became for him. In the emotional arc of the film, Armstrong looks wistfully to the Moon for some kind of closure after his daughter’s death. To call Armstrong a hesitant or reluctant hero is not quite accurate, since there is never any question that he wants to go. But he’s not quite a tragic hero either; even though he’s faced tragedy, it never compels him to do any less or more than he would have already. If anything, Gosling’s Armstrong is an understated and stoic hero, who shirks grandeur even as he strives towards one of mankind’s greatest accomplishments. In his humility, passion for success (“we’re planning on the flight being successful”), and solemn recognition for the importance of his moment for our blue marble in space, he is both profoundly detached (when faced by his sons and his wife about the high likelihood of him not coming back, he treats them as he does the press gaggle, with professional quips on the metrics for the mission and his plans to minimize risk) and profoundly human – using the mission to come to terms with his life, his loss, and his family.

First Man tackles a subject of profound size and scope and delivers with pristine and precise detail minded to the realities of the situation, the physical and emotional rigour required to carry out such a mission, and the complexities of mankind’s gaze into the great beyond. Many of the film’s best moments rest on the seemingly-mundane minutiae of making the Moon landing possible, such as locating and docking with another contraption in space, the exhaustive boredom that lingers while death is always inches away from the capsule, and the emotional toll of death after death within the team caused by slight mistakes. Of course, there are genuinely awe-inspiring moments, particularly in the final act of the film, which covers the Apollo 11 mission itself. The landing sequence on the Moon (shout out to Justin Hurwitz, one of the more talented composers in Hollywood these days) of course takes claim to the most powerful moment in the film. But it is the comparison and contrast of earthbound remorse and skybound anticipation that primes First Man for a story about Neil Armstrong, rather than about the greater meaning of this moment for our future.

And it is here that my thoughts on this film are going to take a turn – because First Man is just an introduction for what we were, what we can do, what what we must do again. There is nothing as spectacular or as awe-inspiring as mankind’s starborn dreams, and the ability to follow through on them.

Telling a story about an astronaut is almost so easy it becomes difficult. They are specifically selected for being physically, mentally, and ethically ideal, inherently unburdened by temptation and self-interest, and more than willing to lay down their own life despite having no obligation to do so. And even that goal, leaving life behind to venture into the unknown to find and discover new things both about our universe and about the best we can be, is heavenly. There is no room for someone who is anything less than dedicated, passionate, and professional in the face of what is often a tragic – and sometimes unavoidable – end amongst the sky.

In this regard, one of the most heart wrenching scenes of First Man involves NASA Manned Space Center Director Bob Gilruth (Ciaran Hinds) preparing a statement that would be read if Aldrin and Armstrong were unable to leave the Moon. It resonates with a loneliness of watching the Earth and waiting for death, their mortal bodies laid to rest on a heavenly one. Yet, no human has ever died in space. Instead, the many who have given their lives towards humanity’s greatest endeavor have been lost on Earth. It’s a dangerous voyage for a humanitarian cause, and it’s why films like Apollo 13 and The Right Stuff put such emphasis and attention on the perilous “return” sequences. But First Man does not. Once they leave the Moon, the next shot of Armstrong is on Earth, in quarantine, as his wife puts her hands to the glass separating them and he looks up and manages to reach back out too. Armstrong realizes his life, his world, and his pain will never be the same, that some part of him had to be left behind on the Moon in order to appreciate life here on Earth.

Mankind last set foot on the Moon in December of 1972 during the Apollo 17 mission, and has never gone as far or farther since. That was over 45 years ago, and in the time since we’ve cured countless diseases, made countless achievements in humanitarian and peacebuilding activities, and learned more than we ever had before about our own history  – but we’ve failed to learn enough about our future. Your cell phone from a decade ago is more powerful than the computers NASA used to make that great leap for orbit,1Though, it is far more consistent. NASA’s Apollo computer was crash-proof, and far more prone to durability in computing than any modern phone. yet we’ve ceased venturing out into hitherto unknown corners of our universe. But someday we will, because we have to, and because deep down we all know we are not meant to stay at home forever. We aren’t meant to look to the stars with a sense of desperation and of what we’ll never be, but instead with a heavy anticipation of everything we can be.

I’ve always been a sucker for shots of rockets leaving the Earth underscored by a triumphant orchestra, they never fail to move me to a solemn tear.2 Please see: Apollo 13; The Right Stuff; Interstellar (oh man this gets me every time); Just like all of CNN’s The Sixties “The Space Race” episode; Armageddon; This SpaceX video; Hell I’m going to throw in October Sky in here too; Look, the Space Shuttle, this is amazing! As the countdown rolls, and the supports break away, that moment when the rocket stalls before slowly accelerating away from its earthly tether… it’s beautiful and extraordinary that humans were able to unite to do something so brave beyond what has ever been expected of any one person. These moments excite something in us, something pure – born not of vice or evil – but of hope and aspiration to be our best selves. We all look up in awe at something we know to be among the most important milestones of humanity, and that feeling has never waned – no matter how much we may take its long, arduous march towards history for granted.