TELEVISION
FT’s very own couch potato, STU NEVILLE, casts an eye over the small screen’s current fortean offerings
Fantastic Beasts: A Natural History
Tuning in to BBC1 of a Sunday evening, Fantastic Beasts: A Natural History is, according to the Radio Times, an hour with Stephen Fry attempting to “unfurl all sorts of mysteries around extraordinary beasts”. A dramatic opening shot of the Natural History museum by night; then, the omnipresent national treasure dramatically flings open the doors and proceeds through the deserted halls, inviting us to join him in an alliterative journey of “exhilarating expedition and daring discovery” as he attempts to find the truth behind the legends. A montage of familiar cinematic animals plays out (cough, Harry Potter, cough), a snippet of JK Rowling burbling about the wonders of nature and then, inevitably, one of the little CGI buggers from her Fantastic Beasts franchise scampering up the statue of Darwin’s marble beard (a platypuslooking thing called a Niffler, I am reliably informed. The beast, not the beard.) You might think there’s another movie due out, but this is the ad-free BBC, so perish
A platypus-looking thing called a Niffler, I am reliably informed
such thoughts. Fry doesn’t interact with the Niffler. It’s just… there.
In fairness, this is all squarely aimed at the younger end of the market, but has much to recommend it. The dragon segment features the avuncular Fry sauntering through Utah for a chat with the splendidly-named park ranger Casey Dooms about dinosaur bones and how ancients would have thought them monster remains. Then to San Diego Zoo and some skittish vervet monkeys representing innate human fears, before these elements are pulled together and we learn that the combination of eagle, snake and big cat would be the ultimate nightmare to our forebears – all interesting stuff in its own right.
Next, Fry ambles up Platform 9¾ to board the Hogwarts Express, as he’s off to Scotland to talk unicorns. Cue reverential fondling of a Narwhal tusk, a close encounter with some happy rhinos and lots of Oryx. Back to Kensington and upstairs – followed at a distance by the Niffler – to the NHM’s tank room, festooned with jars of pickled tentacles, for a chat about Krakens, mermaids and manatees, a visit to Adrian Shine, and so on.
None of this is news to us, but go back 50 years and this is almost exactly (minus the Hogwarts-puffery) what David Attenborough did on the same channel in Fabulous Animals, and it’s tempting to speculate that Rowling, being of the right age, took inspiration from both programme and title. It certainly inspired an interest in the seven-year-old me that remains to this day, so if Fry does the same for a new generation, then this can only be a good thing. As for the product-placement, one can argue that the BBC is itself a fantastic beast under threat, so taking the Warner Bros shilling can only help.