Did we like it?
How can you not like a programme that reveals the vast, breathtaking riches of the BBC Natural History department – and of planet Earth, too.
What was good about it?
Sir David Attenborough’s sparse, cliché-free narration. There is no-one around to match him. Imagine if Alan Titchmarsh had narrated this programme – it would have been all schoolboy poetry and overblown superlatives. Please, God, let Sir David live for ever.
• The aww-aah moments: babies emerging from the emperor penguins; polar bear cubs slipping down snowy slopes; the exhausted baby elephants being chivvied along by their thirsty mothers
• The leave-him-alone-you-bastard moments: the wolf chasing the caribou calf that had become separated from the three million-strong herd; those ugly dogs in Africa chasing an impala into a lake and then running off to scoff on one of the the poor beast’s relatives; the great white shark outmanoeuvring a doomed seal; the demise of the snow leopard (there are just 18 left in the wild because humans are eroding their habitat)
• The is-that-for-real? moment in New Guinea with that fantastically fancy male bird of paradise parading round like a lap dancer (and looking like something the special effects department had dreamed up) – and then getting the knockback from the bird he was after
• The time-lapse photography, the music (usefully switching to sinister tones when something a bit nasty was about to happen), the beauty…
What was bad about it?
• Nothing. This was faultless television.