Channel Nine is currently re-running David Attenborough’s Life, which makes me incredibly happy even if it isn’t brand new (if your house is on fire, you’re not going to complain when the same firefighter rescues you a second time, are you?). Every Attenborough series is so ludicrously magnificent, shot so well, narrated with such wistful amicability, that the BBC could announce David Attenborough’s Life on 4Chan and I’d probably watch it.
It’s both a comfort and a shame that some of the most worthwhile programming today is exactly what it was 30 years ago. Who would have thought, when Life on Earth first aired in 1979, that it was essentially a preview of the best 2014 had to offer? Since then, we’ve been on a determined quest to televisually de-evolve to a point where the next big reality TV series is likely to be a timelapse of some puddles in a derelict bin factory.
The latest episode focuses on primates – our more evolved cousins who stopped using Twitter some 25m years ago – and provides a sweeping, globe-spanning glimpse into the lives of our distant relatives, from cute to terrifying. Thanks to Attenborough’s distinctive, wisdom-soaked tones, it’s easy to forget you could watch these documentaries on mute and still be astonished.
A brown capuchin smashes open a nut with a rock, lit in silhouette against a blazing red sun. The image is breathtaking, the score majestic. I feel like I’m witnessing the birth of a new civilisation, that Planet of the Apes is starting right here and I should start packing essential supplies (fresh water, Xbox). I’d be happy if this alone were the program. Add the husked, whispered awe of Attenborough and you’ve got TV that trumps whatever viral pap you lot are click-dribbling over.
Occasionally, a more brutal side to our fluffy counterparts emerges. Caught in dramatic detail, an army of baboons battle on the grassy plains of Ethiopia to protect the female of the species – and their territory. Those females that dare go their own way rather than support the male-led community get severely reprimanded – sort of like a primate reenactment of Gamergate.
It’s testament to the craft of Attenborough and his writers that he’s as calmly enthralling when showing us the uglier side of nature as its playfulness. Sometimes I wish all human life could be accompanied by his hushed musings; it might soften the blow a bit: “This primitive mammal is intent on destroying the Great Barrier Reef.” Go on Sir David. I’m listening.
If I were asked to create the exact opposite of David Attenborough’s Life, it would be The World’s Richest Dogs (Channel 7), or Getting a Lobotomy From the Comfort of Your Sofa. The majority of human suffering could be ended if half the amount that’s spent on ridiculous, opulent dog hats were donated to charity. Dogs don’t even suit hats (who started that myth?), especially not the small scrawny ones that are more eye than dog. You might as well put a cravat on someone who’s about to be shot.
One dog fashion designer disagrees, saying he loves “to create designs that no one’s ever seen before”. There’s a reason no one’s ever seen a dog in a lace bodice, sir – it makes about as much sense as an upside down toilet. I bet no one’s ever seen a dolphin in a corset either; that’s not a reason to build an entire industry out of it.
We see a dog soiree where one of the dishes served up is prosciutto and shaved parmesan with truffle butter, and a lavish dog wedding (probably Cory Bernardi’s worst nightmare). As I sat watching, hunched and nibbling a cereal bar, I briefly considered offering myself as a pet to a higher species. David Attenborough perhaps?
