The bittersweet nostalgia of Apollo 10 ½: A Space Age Childhood
Was 1969 the last good year?


On an unseasonably warm day last week, I was interrupted from desultory browsing of social media by the ringing chords of Bryan Adams' single "Summer of '69." Outside my office windows, a group of students on campus were selling snacks, recruiting members, or engaging in some other wholesome enthusiasm-raising activity. Displays of youthful pep can be wearisome to middle-aged grouches like this one. But after a long winter and a longer pandemic, I couldn't help humming along.
The choice of song probably didn't mean much — it was part of a playlist of familiar hits. Yet I was struck by the contrast between the youth of the audience and the antiquity of the theme. Adams, who was just 10 in the titular year, has claimed that the lyrics refer to a sex act rather than a historical moment. But his older cowriter's recollections and the imagery of the original music video support the conventional interpretation that it's an ode to the heyday of American youth culture.
That time is as distant from us now as the First World War was from the Nixon Administration. But teenagers thrilled by The Beatles or The Byrds wouldn't have thought of playing Al Jolson, The Waldorf-Astoria Dance Orchestra, or other top artists of 1919 at their campus events. True, "Summer of '69" was released in 1985, a generation after the period with which it's associated. But it's still almost 40 years old, making its enduring popularity a kind of nostalgia layered on nostalgia.
Subscribe to The Week
Escape your echo chamber. Get the facts behind the news, plus analysis from multiple perspectives.

Sign up for The Week's Free Newsletters
From our morning news briefing to a weekly Good News Newsletter, get the best of The Week delivered directly to your inbox.
From our morning news briefing to a weekly Good News Newsletter, get the best of The Week delivered directly to your inbox.
So what accounts for the period's continuing hold, not only on aging boomers but even current undergraduates who were born after 9/11? Richard Linklater's new film, Apollo 10 ½: A Space Age Childhood, now streaming on Netflix, offers one answer. Set in the spring, rather than the summer, of '69, the animated feature is a semi-autobiographical depiction of a family in suburban Houston, a time and place where it seemed like almost everyone had some connection to the space program.
Apart from a fanciful narrative of a secret Apollo mission for children, nothing much happens. Linklater's stand-in character — conveniently named "Stan" — his siblings, and his friends watch TV, attend school, go to the pool or beach, and make prank calls or commit other insignificant mischiefs. There is no sex, no drugs, and just a little rock 'n' roll (Stan's sophisticated oldest sister likes Joni Mitchell, but The Monkees seem to be the household favorite).
Despite the absence of plot, Linklater's recreation of the period is beguiling. That's not because of the overwhelming material comfort. To the contrary, Stan's family of eight is somewhat strapped for money. No one goes hungry. But they eat a lot of processed meats and occasionally steal building materials from local construction sites for home improvement purposes.
Nor is it a social paradise. Southeastern Texas is placid. But its residents are aware of the turmoil in many of America's cities — and in Vietnam. They're also beginning to wonder whether traditional restrictions on their own lives should be maintained. Stan's mother begins using the pill after his birth as her sixth child. But she doesn't tell their priest to avoid excommunication.
Despite sexual and racial constraints that now seem antediluvian, though, the most striking feature of the film is the freedom it shows in daily life. Children roam unsupervised, adults drink and smoke with abandon, no one seems to worry about cultural sensitivity or the environment. It's a more callous, even dangerous, world in certain ways. But also one that avoids the obsession with safety that can make middle-class life so stifling today.
Stan's world is also different from ours in its attitude toward the future: "There was no sense of history here, for everything as far as you could see was brand new," he observes. Surrounded by subdivisions and shopping centers, Stan and his contemporaries focus their imagination on the coming age of interstellar travel. They revere scientists, astronauts, and others boldly going where no man has gone before (to borrow a phrase from a contemporary artifact). The past is as empty and flat as the coastal plain they inhabit.
Fifty years later, that sense of expectation is hard to find. "We wanted flying cars, instead we got 140 characters," the investor and political entrepreneur Peter Thiel famously complained. Today, we instinctively turn to the past for examples of heroism and accomplishment. Making America great again means making it more like the way it was.
In his 1991 book Postmodernism, or The Cultural Logic of Late Capitalism, social theorist Frederic Jameson argued that this shift of our admiration from the future to the past was the key to the emergence of nostalgia culture. Just a few years after the triumphant Apollo launch in July, television, film, and music were already idealizing the lost innocence of the American century. Science fiction is the definitive pop-culture genre for young Stan and his contemporaries, who are devoted to late-night reruns of classic films. By the mid-70s, though, retro pastiche represented by the likes of American Graffiti, Bruce Springsteen, and Happy Days were taking over cinema, music, and TV.
That rapid shift may explain the otherwise puzzling fantasy that gives Apollo 10 ½ its title. Young Stan is drawn to the great adventure of exploring space. But Linklater, who was born in 1960 (less than a year later than Bryan Adams), can only make this aspiration plausible within a deeply nostalgic period piece. Now passing from middle age into old age, he's drawn to the summer of '69 because that was the last time when young Americans could believe without doubt that an inspiring future lay ahead of them. Now older and wiser, they look backward and understand that those were the best days of their lives.
That magnetic attraction was on display when ABC launched a reboot of The Wonder Years series in 2021 that retained the late '60s setting of the original. Remarkably, about the same amount of time has elapsed since the original was canceled in 1993 as between its premiere in 1988 and the era in which it's set. The decision to focus on a Black family suggests that the instinct to embed a hopeful future in the increasingly distant past is not limited to the milieu Linklater depicts.
The continuing dominance of midcentury tropes on mainstream platforms has something to do with the graying of their audience — particularly for broadcast television. But social media also trades in nostalgia for that golden age, even if it's usually cloaked in irony. Even as I hummed along, then, hearing "Summer of '69" through my office window made me a little sad. A few decades from now, will anyone be tempted to sing about the summer of '22?
A free daily email with the biggest news stories of the day – and the best features from TheWeek.com
Samuel Goldman is a national correspondent at TheWeek.com. He is also an associate professor of political science at George Washington University, where he is executive director of the John L. Loeb, Jr. Institute for Religious Freedom and director of the Politics & Values Program. He received his Ph.D. from Harvard and was a postdoctoral fellow in Religion, Ethics, & Politics at Princeton University. His books include God's Country: Christian Zionism in America (University of Pennsylvania Press, 2018) and After Nationalism (University of Pennsylvania Press, 2021). In addition to academic research, Goldman's writing has appeared in The New York Times, The Wall Street Journal, and many other publications.
-
What to expect for student loan repayment under Trump's budget bill
The Explainer Millions of borrowers may soon be forced to alter their plans
-
The world's 10 richest families
In Depth From Middle Eastern monarchs to M&M magnates, these are the most fabulously wealthy clans on Earth
-
5 apps to help with travel budgeting
The Week Recommends Track expenses while on the go
-
5 best movie sequels of all time
The Week Recommends The second time is only sometimes as good as the first
-
Film reviews: Eddington and Don't Let's Go to the Dogs Tonight
Feature A New Mexico border town goes berserk and civil war through a child's eyes
-
The best TV shows based on movies
The Week Recommends A handful of shows avoid derivative storytelling and craft bold narrative expansions
-
Film reviews: Superman and Sorry, Baby
Feature A hero returns, in surprising earnest, and a woman navigates life after a tragedy
-
The best film prequels of all time
The Week Recommends Balancing new information with what the audience already knows is a perilous tightrope
-
'Immigrant' Superman film raises hackles on the right
TALKING POINT Director James Gunn's comments about the iconic superhero's origins and values have rankled conservatives who embrace the Trump administration's strict anti-immigrant agenda
-
Ari Aster revisits the pandemic, Adam Sandler tees off again and Lamb Chop gets an origin story in July movies
the week recommends The month's film releases include 'Eddington,' 'Happy Gilmore 2' and 'Shari & Lamb Chop'
-
Film reviews: F1: The Movie, 28 Years Later, and Familiar Touch
Feature An aging race car driver gets one last chance, a kid struggles to survive in this '28 Days Later' update, and a woman with dementia adjusts to her new life