‘Foundation’ Season 2 Finale Recap: The Best of All Possible Worlds

The journey from “yeah, that show’s not bad” to “hell yeah, that show rules” was, true to the jump technology that bounces ships from one end of the galaxy to another effortlessly, a short one. From out of the gate, Foundation Season 2 established that showrunner David S. Goyer and company, supplemented this time around by the talented writer Jane Espenson, had figured out how to make this show sing. 

In part, this meant drilling down into what already worked. Even more spectacular and exquisitely designed sci-fi vistas, for one thing. The performances of Lee Pace, Terrence Mann, Cassian Bilton, Laura Birn, and Jared Harris, and the resultant energy with which the story material surrounding them is infused. The psychotic-break intensity of Empire’s decadence and violence, depicted on as intimate and as grand a scale as possible.

It also meant reassembling some of the existing parts into a superior whole. The go-to example here is how the storylines of the relatively flat characters, Lou Llobell’s Gaal Dornick and Leah Harvey’s Salvor Hardin, were elegantly combined, to the point where it’s hard to remember a time when this mismatched younger mother and older daughter weren’t side by side. Allowing them to play off Harris for a season via an iteration of his Hari Seldon character, too, showed that Llobell and Harvey could hang.

Finally, there were the new ingredients: Constant, Poly, Hober Mallow, Tellem Bond, Queen Sareth, Bel Riose, Rue, Glawen. If there’s a single name in that list to whom you have not become attached, I’ll eat the Prime Radiant. 

And to that list of characters we can add plotlines: the creation of a new non-cloned dynasty with Sareth; the emergence of Seldon worship as a form of marketing in religion’s clothing; the emergence of the telepathic outliers of psychohistory known as mentallics; the apocalyptic future of the Mule; the revolutionary potential of the genetically modified Spacers; the existence of multiple Hari Seldons and Prime Radiants; the creation of Second Foundation as a counterbalance to the First; and — most importantly — the centuries-old reign of Demerzel, the immortal robotic monarch-slave of the Imperium. 

It’s not until I lay it all out like that that I realize just how steep a hill the tenth and final episode of Foundation’s superb second season had to climb. To deliver on any one of these promising elements of the show would be an achievement, one that many shows, including ones I really like, would settle for. Just by way of a for instance: Silo, a sister “adaptation of a bestselling sci-fi series about the menacing future airing on Apple TV+” show, is all the better for having a narrow focus and relentlessly aiming its laser at it.

But that was not the path chosen for Foundation. Instead, writers Goyer and Liz Phang, director Alex Graves, and the entire stellar cast set about delivering on every single thing. And deliver they did. Overdelivered, actually. In fact, in terms of sheer scale and scope and daring, the last show I can remember serving up season finales this replete with emotional and visual spectacle is, deep breath, Game of Thrones. And no, I’m not tossing that comparison around lightly. In terms of SFF TV, Foundation is currently as good as it gets.

And while we’ve got GoT on the tips of our tongues, let’s note that in many ways this was a bloodbath on par with the Red Wedding. Demerzel kills Dusk and Rue for discovering her secret. Bel kills Day by swapping bodies using Hober’s “castling” technology during a truly epic fist fight, one of the finest on TV in a long long time, and allowing him to tumble out of the airlock Bel himself was to be blasted from. Hober and Bel perish along with the entire Imperial fleet thanks to the machinations of Hober and the Spacers, who made the same utilitarian calculation Bel did when he physically assaulted Empire: The deaths of thousands are preferable to the deaths of billions, who would have perished had Day gotten his way. All of this adds up to the unprecedented need to decant clones of Dawn, Day, and Dusk simultaneously — three puppets, dangling from the strings of Demerzel, a puppet herself.

And far, far away, Salvor Hardin dies at the phantom hands of Tellem Bond, warping herself into the body of the telepathic child Josiah (Kit Rakusen) to assassinate Gaal, for whom Savlor takes the bullet. In much the same way that the programmatic execution of Dusk and Rue brought out the best in actor Laura Birn — if you ever say things of the “hand her the Emmy already” variety, now is the time — the passing of Salvor coaxes out series-best work from both Harvey and Llobell. It will be a shame to lose the former at this point. (Though on this show, who knows?)

Because there’s a light in the darkness, creepy as it might be to get there. Brother Dawn and Queen Sareth murder their way past their guards and escape to freedom, a legitimate heir to the dynasty growing inside the queen. Constant, sent to safety by Bel and Hober at their own expense, is reunited with Poly and Hari v1 and her dads and the entire population of Terminus within a sort of mega-Vault that survived Terminus’s destruction. Hari v2 and Gaal live on as living gods on Ignis, revived briefly once every year for a century and a half to check on civilization’s collapse and order protective measures. 

And 152 years into the future, the Mule — an amalgamation of Max von Sydow, the Night King, Hitler, and Professor X — vows to seek and destroy Gaal Dornick, even if it means burning down the entire galaxy around her.

I could say a lot at this point, but I think most of all, I respect this episode’s sheer balls. To create a romance as unique and convincing as the one between Constant and Hober — the only character who has ever truly felt like Han Solo to me, instead of just a Han Solo Type — just to yank it away? To create that connection between Gaal and Salvor, just to sever it? To engage us so deeply in the doings of this Dawn, this Day, this Dusk, only to erase them all each in his own way? The sheer nerve!

And to echo it all with equally impressive space-opera imagery? Good gravy. The immolation of the fleet, the blue-gold-red color scheme of Demerzel’s face-off with Dusk and Rue, the pyramidal pyre of Salvor, just to name three: the absolute command this show has over its visual aesthetic, which is reminiscent of this or that source but which at this point truly feels uniquely its own, is remarkable. Add the magnificent score by composer Bear McCreary’s Shadow and Spark music factory and you’ve got something genuinely epic on your hands.

All of it is anchored by absolutely tremendous performances, the kind you’ll remember, from pretty much everyone. In many ways this is Birn’s episode, as she puts on an object lesson in how to emote without moving any of the muscles of your face. But it’s equally that of Ben Daniels as Bel Riose, visibly convincing himself that standing up to Empire is something worth dying for and thereafter never buding an inch from that resolve. Or Dimitri Leonidas as Hober, funneling all his passion for Constant into one final kiss, then choking back his fear and dread with Bel as they toast before their immolation. Or Lee Pace, orgasmically growling “I fucking love it” at Bel before spitting a mouthful of blood into his face. 

Or Lou Llobell, mourning the coming death of the daughter she only knew for a season. Or Terrence Mann, truly confessing his love to Demerzel while simultaneously condemning her as a traitor.

Or, or, or, or, or. Foundation Season 2 has been an embarrassment of riches, and it’s been hard to know where to start and stop in its praises. Long may it reign.

(This piece was written during the 2023 WGA and SAG-AFTRA strikes. Without the labor of the writers and actors currently on strike, the series being covered here wouldn’t exist.)

Sean T. Collins (@theseantcollins) writes about TV for Rolling Stone, Vulture, The New York Times, and anyplace that will have him, really. He and his family live on Long Island.