Our Planet II 2.3

June 23, 2023

Our Planet II’s eye-filling, emotionally grueling third hour hints, if only briefly, at a better, more humane future

There are any number of emotionally wrenching moments in The Next Generation, Our Planet II’s third and most profound hour in the series so far. Those moments include a sea of red crabs on remote Christmas Island fleeing their suddenly cannibalistic mothers; a year-old puma in the rugged steppes of Patagonia, the southernmost tip of the Americas, struggling to survive on his own after leaving the safety of his family; and a mass migration of hatchling olive ridley turtles on Escobilia Beach, Mexico making their inaugural pilgrimage to the sea — a pilgrimage which fewer than 50% will survive.

It is two sequences, though, toward the end of the episode, that lend the entire series its perspective, for good and bad. In the first, elevated by some truly astonishing cinematography, a flock of some 400 demoiselle cranes, native to Mongolia and northeast China, embark on one of the most grueling migrations known to science, as they cross the Himalayan mountains to reach their wintering grounds in India — a journey in which many die from exhaustion, hunger and predation from golden eagles.

There are safer, less arduous ways to cross the world’s most imposing mountain range as the cranes, flying with their distinctive heads and necks straight forward and their feet and legs trailing behind, reach altitudes as high as 8,000 meters — Mt. Everest is 8,800 meters — but their traditional migratory route has been hard-wired by 45 million of years of evolutionary biology. When the cranes first started migrating, the Himalayas did not yet exist.

As a species., the demoiselle crane is not endangered — yet — but it is one of the animal species to which the United Nations Environment Programme Agreement on Conservation of African-Eurasian Migratory Waterbirds applies, and when one witnesses the sheer effort of their Himalayan ordeal, it’s easy to see why.

Our Planet II is full of cautionary flags about what we’re doing to the

environment, but the demoiselle crane’s story has a unique and uplifting twist.

Villagers in Khichan, in Rajasthan state in northwestern India, feed and protect the cranes on their annual migration, in a ritual that has made these annual bird congregations a renowned, headline-making spectacle. Fifteen thousand cranes now visit Khichan every year. It is a rare example of people working together to make the world a better place for their natural brethren, a signpost to a better, more humane, more sustainable future.

It is the final sequence in the hour, though, in which Our Planet II’s makers follow a family of wild Asian elephants on a two-year journey in Yunnan province, China from their drought-stricken tropical forest home deep into the heart of human habitation — during the 2020 Covid pandemic, no less — that is both harrowing and strangely heartening.

A newborn calf has to move with his herd virtually from birth, and his struggle is near unforgettable. In this changing world, David Attenborough reminds us, animals need our help more than ever. The family’s story made international headlines, and a fundraising campaign raised the financial resources to shepherd the elephants from the city of Kunming — pop. 6.6 million — back to their forest home, now recovered from the drought from two years earlier.

Today’s nature programs tend to be manipulative and somewhat cynical in their headlong rush for viewers. The Next Generation ends with a cliffhanger, which seems unnecessary for a high-minded Attenborough drama, but there is a larger, more meaningful purpose at work here than there is in the usual tooth-’n-claws rollercoaster rides. Our Planet II is worth seeing in its entirety, but at the end of it all, it will be these quiet, uplifting moments that stay in the memory.

Next: a look at the final hour, Freedom to Roam.

Our Planet II 2.2

June 21, 2023

Our Planet II’s second hour looks at the life of bees — and polar bears — and tells us more about a changing climate

Our planet, David Attenborough reminds us in the opening moments of Following the Sun, Our Planet II’s second-of-four hour-long episodes, is solar powered.

It takes eight minutes for the sun’s rays to reach the Earth’s surface. Due to our planet’s tilt, they don’t reach its surface evenly, however. The solar energy arrives unevenly at different times of the year, depending on where it falls. And therein lies the key — if there is a key to be found — to understanding the changing climate, perhaps enough to delay and possibly even reverse the effects of what’s looking more like a climate emergency with each passing day.

Our Planet II’s second act focuses on the summer months, which in the Northern Hemisphere signal a wave of wildlife migrations, from wildebeest searching for grass on the plains of East Africa to snow geese taking to the skies in search of breeding grounds across the far reaches of northern Canada.

This is the time of year when honey bees are at their most active — to make just half a kg of honey, a colony of bees must fly 90,000 km — and pollinate more than a million flowers.

In just one hive, as many as 60,000 bees can work together as one superorganism. A healthy queen can lay an egg every 30 seconds; another 40,000 bees may be developing in this one hive alone.

There isn’t enough room for them all, so the hive inevitably splits. When their numbers reach critical mass, they begin to swarm. They must find a new home.

To a bee, home is a tree hole with the right size, height, and angle to the sun. No sun — no life.

Bees can only move like this when the sun’s energy provides them with enough food to rebuild their colony from its beginnings — and where there are suitable homing grounds, in which to find a suitable home.

The world is changing, and today’s nature programs — at least, those programs with a burning need to impart some valuable, useful message rather than just family entertainment — can be hard to watch at times.

Survival is hard at the best of times, and our mere presence, let alone what we have done to the planet already, has made the challenge of survival that much harder.

There’s a wrenching sequence late in Following the Sun, where a polar bear mother is leading her two cubs up a sheer rock face after a long swim over open ocean where once there would have been floes of ice on which to rest. One of the cubs, the stronger and larger of the two, follows its mother easily enough, but the second, smaller cub, weakened from a long, overextended swim, is falling behind. A wrong turn, a foot slip, could mean a 15-meter fall onto the rocks below. Panicking, he begins to cry out plaintively and heads in the wrong direction. His survival depends on staying close to his mother — if he can’t keep up, she will be forced to abandon him. Spoiler alert: He makes it.

The message is plain, though, for all but the most stone-hearted viewers: With a long journey ahead, and another long swim, he may not make it. With summer sea ice melting earlier than we’ve ever known, polar bears must spend more of their year swimming.

For animals used to traveling across ice, these changes may well prove to be too great.

Life often finds a way — that is the way of the natural world. Animals adapt; the most adaptable survive.

The climate is changing, though. The future, today more than at any point in recorded history, looks increasingly uncertain.

Next: a look at episode 3, The Next Generation

Our Planet II 2.1

June 19, 2023

The lives of desperate seabirds in an ocean of plastic

For all the moments of grace and majesty in the opening hour of Our Planet II — and there are several, from the tiny murrelet chick on Vancouver Island so small it trips over twigs on its trek toward the shore to the Kalahari lions working together to take down a cape buffalo five times their size — one sequence stands out.

The lonely vigil of a scruffy, disheveled albatross chick waiting days on end on the remote Pacific island of Laysan for its mother to return from the sea with life-giving food is likely to leave an indelible impression on anyone who sees it. Survival against terrible odds is a recurring theme in World on the Move, the first hour of Netflix’s four-episode follow-up to 2019’s Our Planet, hosted and narrated with familiar urgency by David Attenborough. Even if the albatross chick should survive its early-life fight against slow starvation, dangers await. When it finally learns to fly on its own, ungainly and awkward on its maiden flight across the sea — more hop-and-jump than actual flying — swarms of tiger sharks, thousands of them, exact a deadly toll on albatross chicks that haven’t learned the life skills yet needed to survive at sea.

The real challenge, though — and the message that drives Our Planet II in its entirety — is that humans have made the chick’s fight for survival all the more daunting. “There is now so much plastic in our oceans that it reaches the most remote islands on Earth,” Attenborough says. Pictures say more than words, though, and the accompanying visuals — of the tiny chick dry-heaving, opening its beak wide, and struggling to regurgitate plastic crud its mother has mistaken for food — are impossible to ignore. Or forget.

Plastic, the detritus of our all-consuming lifestyle in a world driven by the insatiable pursuit of financial profit at any cost — is destroying the planet, piece by gaudy,

brightly colored piece.

We know this, of course, but it’s quite another to see it with our own eyes, in such wrenching, heartfelt detail.

These Attenborough-voiced programs are not a dirge, though. Without the moments of beauty and grace and dignity, there would be little reason to watch. Our Planet is a cautionary tale, but there is reason for hope, rooted in nature’s resilience and humankind’s collective potential for course correction.

World on the Move focuses on the migratory patterns of insects, birds, and land animals as they embark on often life-threatening journeys to feed themselves and their newborns, mate and breed, and find new homes. It’s a retelling of Homer’s Odyssey, featuring lions, walruses, and polar bears, among countless others, and it’s a marvel to witness. The cinematography is astounding, some of the finest of the entire Planet Earth canon, and is reason alone to watch. Cutting-edge drone technology allowed the size of the migrating megaherd of buffalos in the show-opening sequence to be counted for the first time — and revealed the herd to be more than 5,000 strong.

A sequence following a swarm of locusts in Ethiopia, filmed during the 2020 pandemic, shows locusts crossing entire continents in a wave of destruction … stopped only by ever-more-deadly pesticides.

The circle of life is fast becoming a doom loop, which is important to know if we are to have any hope of overcoming obstacles of our own making. Our Planet is vibrant, urgent — and disarming in its simplicity. It’s nature programming at its most earnest. And timely.

Next: a look at episode 2, Following the Sun.

Our Planet II 2.0

June 17, 2023

Netflix’s follow-up to 2019’s Our Planet marks one of Sir David Attenborough’s finest hours

“The dangerous temptation of wildlife films,” Doug Peacock wrote in Grizzly Years: In Search of the American Wilderness, “is that they can lull us into thinking we can get by without the original models — that we might not need animals in the flesh.”

Our Planet, Netflix’s ambitious, eye-opening paean to the wild world, now back in a four-episode second iteration, was always going to be different from the David Attenborough-hosted nature series we’ve become used to seeing.

All the classic signatures are there — Sir David’s emotional, evocative narration; the wonder, the astonishing, at-times jaw-dropping cinematography — but this time, the emphasis was going to be about the changing world and how we humans are forcing many of those changes, just by our presence.

It’s a fine line to walk. As Attenborough himself once said, in a profile on the CBS newsmagazine 60 Minutes, about his early programs, no one wants to be told the Earth is going to hell and it’s all our fault.

Our Planet II opens with a hunt: lions in Botswana’s Kalahari down a cape buffalo from one of the largest known herds of buffalo on the planet.

From the air — visually, one of the big differences between Our Planet II and the original is that the latest edition relies heavily on drone technology, which has advanced dramatically in just five years — the sight is stunning … there could be thousands of buffalo down there. Literally. It’s a full-on mass migration, and that’s unique to that part of Africa. Buffalo normally gather in herds of 20 or so, and stake their claim to a particular territory. They move around, but not like this. This is unique.

The world is changing, Attenborough tells us in his narration, and wildlife must change with it if it is to survive.

We must change, too, whether we like it or not.

We, too, may soon bear witness to human mass migrations on a sweeping scale.

In some ways, we are already seeing it, with the migrant crossings across the Mediterranean. Just last week, hundreds of refugees, many of them from drought-stricken countries in sub-Saharan Africa seeking a better life in southern Europe, drowned at sea, so many that one NGO official described the Mediterranean as a ‘mass graveyard’ — this after an overcrowded boat carrying as many as 750 refugees capsized off the coast of Greece. Most of the victims drowned; at last count, little more than 100 survivors were plucked out of the ocean.

Without saying so in so many words — Attenborough makes no mention of climate refugees per se — Our Planet draws parallels between the natural world forced to co-exist with a world of our own making and an uncertain future for all life on Earth, and not just wildlife.

Over the coming days and weeks, I’ll review each episode of Our Planet II in sequence, with anecdotes from behind the scenes. The entire season is now streaming on Netflix, but there are moments here so wrenching and powerful they need to be absorbed slowly, over time, with time left between hours to think and reflect. This is not binge-viewing. Quite the opposite. The four hours stand alone by themselves, each on its own, and that is the way they need to be seen.

Much has been made of Netflix’s eclectic, high-profile series, some of which have become staples of popular culture, from Stranger Things to Squid Game and Lupin, but for me, the Our Planet series is the most important, the most meaningful, and the biggest reason for being. It’s not just a prestige documentary — it’s a living testament to life on Earth, and what remains of it.

Next: an in-depth look at episode 1, World on the Move.

Earth Day

April 22, 2023

During the pandemic, the famed ethnologist and conservationist Jane Goodall sequestered herself in her childhood home in Bournemouth, on the south coast of England. Goodall, who first stepped into Tanzania’s Gombe National Park to observe chimpanzees just more than 60 years ago, was hard at work, broadcasting her mission to millions of viewers across the globe. In a teleconference interview with Vogue, she talked about how she was putting the finishing touches on her new collaboration with the wellness brand Forest Remedies: a kit of four essential oils—ginger and ylang-ylang from Madagascar, citronella from Togo, and frankincense from Somaliland—of which a percentage of the proceeds will be donated to the Jane Goodall Institute. “The more we can provide people with products that they want to use that are produced in a sustainable way, the better,” Goodall said at the time. She turned 89 on April 3, just 20 days ago.

Earth Day is acknowledged once a year, but in truth — especially now, in 2023 — every day should be Earth Day. “I understood why those who had lived through war and economic disasters,” Goodall wrote in Reason for Hope: A Spiritual Journey. “and who had built a good life and a high standard of living for themselves, were rightly proud to be able to provide for their children those things which they themselves had not had. And why their children inevitably took those things for granted. It meant that new values and new expectations crept into our societies, (leading to) the materialistic lifestyle of so many people in the Western world today.” Our onslaught on nature is not down to a lack of intelligence but rather a lack of compassion for future generations and the health of the planet: greed and selfishness for short-term personal gain. The rest is thoughtlessness. We can do better, Goodall reminds us. We must do better. It is well past time.