Original subtitles

♪♪

This planet, hanging in space like a lonely blue pea,

is our home.

We share it with a dazzling number of other life forms,

because the other planets are, frankly, hopeless.

No, this planet is the best one.

It's got everything:

flying things,

furry things,

stripy things,

wet things,

cold things,

more wet things,

and penguins.

So many animals that, if you put them side to side,

they would cover the whole earth,

which they already do.

For that planet is this planet...

Round Planet: The Story of Everything.

Not everything. Not shoes;

we don't talk about shoes, but most things.

The Arctic;

one of the iciest places on earth.

Oh, look, there's an iceberg.

Serene, majestic, and quite breathtaking.

Its only natural enemy is the Titanic, and it saw that off years ago.

Here, everything is frozen;

this bit...

that bit,

and the bits of Garth the cameraman when he got these shots on Baffin Island.

But the residents are okay with that.

The dandy arctic fox,

the polar bear--

yeah, you have to get one of those in.

And the mighty narwhal.

The cold never bothered them anyway.

It's the warmth they fear,

especially since we clicked the setting on Earth's freezer to defrost, probably.

It says here, I have to say "possibly," but I'm going to say "probably."

Or "almost certainly."

Sorry, Tabitha, someone's got to tell the truth around here,

and these animals can't talk, so it's got to be me.

The Arctic: A Year in the Frozen Wilderness.

Even though it's becoming unfrozen;

except, it might not be.

But, if it is, that may or may not be due to human activity.

Good lord, all these disclaimers, it's like doing an insurance advert.

Hate those,

but they do pay well.

Sunrise in space.

Of course, in space the sun doesn't rise. It's a trick of the earth.

But down on earth--

Hell's bells, the sky's on fire!

Not really, and nothing much burns here.

♪♪

Winter is drawing to a close.

The sun is rising for the first time in nearly four months.

Here it comes.

Come on.

At minus-five degrees, it's definitely full-body thermals for me,

but it's positively balmy for her,

which means it's time to cut loose.

Wa

You'd think, living in the Arctic, she'd get bored of sledging, but no,

this polar bear's having a whale of a time.

Which is a weird expression, because, if you ask me,

whales always look rather bored.

Oh, hello.

Twins!

At two months old,

these cubs are getting their first glimpse of the outside world.

And it's white. Very white,

like Berkshire.

God, they're adorable aren't they?

But don't try and give them a cuddle;

their mum will rip your face off and snap your pelvis like a dead twig,

then claw your heart out and spread your guts over the snow.

I'll, I'll... I'll stop.

I'll stop.

It may look like they're just mucking around,

but this is serious preparation for the next stage of their journey.

Mother shows them what life has in store

by repeatedly biting them on the bum.

It's a metaphor;

one minute, you're the second biggest natural historian in the country,

the next, you're doing adverts for funeral plans.

But I don't complain.

♪♪

Her milk will soon run dry.

So it's a slide to the frozen ocean to hunt,

if global warming hasn't turned the sea into a giant slush puppy.

If global warming is a real thing.

It's not just polar bears looking for food.

This fluff ball, the arctic fox, is also on the lookout for a meal,

and there are no bins to go through here.

She might look full of fun, but, actually, she's famished.

You can see it in her eyes. Oh, what luck!

She's inadvertently stumbled upon the carcass of this reindeer...

which the crew definitely didn't leave here on purpose for her to find.

Just to confirm, that did not happen.

She may be hungry, but without gravy, spuds, and yorkshires,

she's just not interested.

So, this picky eater sets off in search of better food,

warmer food.

Oh, Tabby, speaking of warm food,

any sign of my toasted panini?

Hmm.

This is what she is after.

No, not the hare; too rabbity.

Or the ptarmigan; too snowbally.

Ah, perfect.

Ox tongue.

And oxtail.

And ox.

Look, basically, it's an ox.

A muskox.

250 kilos of angry cow.

That fox has balls.

Either that, or it is totally insane.

This little chancer looks as though she's set her sights

on stealing a newborn calf right from under its mother's snout.

Although, it says here in my notes

that foxy might not be going for the newborn at all.

She might have set her sights on eating the placenta,

but that's so new age I'm going to ignore it.

It's a moment of high drama.

You can tell by the rapid bongos.

Fox versus afterbirth;

one of the great battles of the natural world.

Oh, it's all over.

The muskox tells fox to foxtrot oscar.

It's hardly a lion noshing a wildebeest, is it?

But it's truth;

everything we show is truth,

especially the dead reindeer.

Spring heralds good news.

With more daylight, it should be easier to get some bare necessities,

but honey, fancy ants, pawpaws, and prickly pears

are not widely available on this patch of arctic sea ice.

♪♪

So, for this polar bear, that means ringed seal.

A polar bear can sniff out a seal from more than 30 kilometres away,

which might seem impressive,

but there is nothing else about but snow,

and, take it from me, seals absolutely honk.

Ringed seals may be some of the smallest in the world,

but these seals are crammed with calories.

The bear, utterly focussed on the seal...

much like a human who can think only of the toasted panini

he was promised so very long ago.

Is it nearly here?

I hate to tell you, it's been nearly here for 25 minutes now.

He treads lightly to avoid alerting the seals to the fact

that he, a 500-kilo chubster, is hoping to feast on them.

Look at him tippy-toeing around.

I've never seen a polar bear look so positively dainty.

He sniffs...

he waits...

dramatic pause.

Should get a BAFTA for that line alone.

He steadies himself to blast through the snow like a hairy claw-hammer.

Oh...

and that has done literally nothing.

Well, the seal might just have heard that.

There he is.

No, he's at the other hole, you great nit.

Huh! A fun game of hide-and-seek for the seal,

but the bear just can't keep up.

♪♪

Today the seal wins.

Mr. Bear is a sad bear.

He was really looking forward to chewing the seal's neck clean off.

He leaves,

perhaps to stand on top of a mint.

Now, this time lapse indicates that it's June in the Arctic.

It's a nice visual way of saying it's June,

without me having to say it's now June,

which I suppose I've now said three times.

Anyway, it's June,

and it's officially springtime in the Arctic,

or what passes as springtime in the Arctic.

The mercury reaches the giddy heights

of zero degrees celsius.

As it warms, giant cracks appear in the ice.

The ocean becomes a jigsaw puzzle, where all pieces constantly change shape,

and it's not even a good idea to put them together.

If ever you did, you wouldn't get a nice painting of a lancaster bomber,

you'd just get some ice.

Each of these gargantuan cracks

creates a super highway for another species:

narwhals;

freakish, uni-horned creatures

who travel thousands of kilometres

in search of food.

Narwhal...

Narwhal... narwhal.

You simply can't say "narwhal" enough.

It's one of the best words in all natural history.

Narwhal.

Yes...

The distinctive tusk is actually a giant canine tooth

sticking out through their lip.

The tusk is purely ornamental,

but thought to be a sexual display...

like the Jag Alan down the road bought.

It's tragic. Lost all his hair,

not that you could tell from his Tinder profile.

♪♪

The narwhals have sophisticated echolocation,

but today it has let them down.

They've gone the wrong way up a one-way ice flow.

Things could get gnarly...

or narwhaly.

But it's a massive letdown,

with one side meekly agreeing to back-up down the channel.

All right, let's be honest, we were all hoping for violence.

No, not you, Tabitha, I know, but the rest of us.

Spring moves on,

and at long last the polar bear has found a meal.

What?

Well, where's the footage of it?

We've already wasted five minutes

watching the blasted thing trying to catch something.

But Garth spent five months out there. What do you mean missed it?

Ugh!

With food in his belly,

the male polar bear's thoughts turn to finding a mate,

which, if he's anywhere near as bad at as he is finding food,

it could take a while. Think about it.

The object of his affections is white,

he's white,

everything is white.

There's always the chance you'll spot a potential mate on the horizon,

but it will end up being a rock covered in snow.

And you can't mate with a rock covered in snow.

It's cold and lifeless, and can't give you love,

the love that you ache for.

But this fellow has had a stroke of luck.

He has picked up a scent,

the smell of a female.

Ah, the most wonderful smell you can imagine...

after play-doh, of course.

He catches her up and saves a bit of energy

by walking in the compacted snow of her footprints.

Er, how--

how does he know that they're not his footprints?

I mean, he could spend the next few hours walking round and round in a circle.

An Arctic Circle.

Finally, he clamps eyes on her,

and all the months of loneliness melt away.

And, with a coy, over the shoulder glance,

she signals it's time to go upstairs.

Huh!

He's known her for 40 seconds and he's ready to take things further.

And she means upstairs.

"Blooming heck," he thinks, "this coffee better be worth it."

Looks like it is.

I won't describe the act of bear love in more detail,

as some things are best left to the poets.

And once you find a mate,

competition, like making love in the snow,

can be painful.

Female polar bears are essentially polygamous.

They're not like those couples-for-life penguins way down south,

which leaves the males fighting for their attention.

Two proud males brawling in the name of sex.

Is there a better sight?

No, he's given up.

Over the next few weeks, bloodier battles ensue.

But our male manages to hold onto his lady love.

It's been an emotional whirlwind.

But now it's time for the male and female

to go their separate ways;

her to the joys of motherhood,

him back to fighting and trying to kill things.

Nature loves a gender stereotype.

As summer finally arrives, the Arctic tundra is transformed

from a pure white wasteland into this:

a browny-green wasteland. This is no longer the land of the polar bear.

This is the land of the woolly bear,

a sort of wandering eyebrow,

and one of the first creatures to emerge when the snow retreats.

The woolly bear caterpillar spends the whole of this brief summer

eating, eating, eating.

It's a race to grab enough grub before winter arrives.

♪♪

And when it does,

this little fellow has an amazing trick up his sleeve to survive.

Not that it has sleeves, it's a caterpillar.

It crawls under a rock and freezes.

Body, guts, blood, all frozen.

Like an Arctic roll;

spongy on the outside, solid on the inside,

and lots better than a viennetta.

"That's it for him," you may be thinking,

but no, he survives to live another day.

the next spring, it thaws and begins eating again.

And it does this for an incredible 14 years.

Or seven years,

depending on which scientific journal you read.

Finally, it rises from the dead one last time,

finds a spot, and weaves a cocoon. And emerges as a beautiful...

plain brown moth.

Well, its mother thinks it's beautiful.

The biggest tragedy is that, after all that time,

it flew straight into one of our lights.

Poch!

Yes, 14 years, Tabitha, hmm?

-14 years.

Feels that long since I ordered my panini.

Yes...

Like high season in any resort,

summer in the Arctic brings in the tourists.

Around 18 million of them.

Most are birds.

Yeah, you've all turned up now the sun's out haven't you

Yeah, but where were you when it was 40-below,

and we had to blowtorch Garth's tongue off the side of his ski

There are some excellent divers, like these shearwaters.

And then...

there are guillemots.

Safe to say, they weren't paying attention

when mother nature gave her diving lesson.

♪♪

It may look suicidal,

but these guillemots are built for bouncing.

It's remarkable.

He's made it!

And will go on to enjoy a happy life. Perhaps even one day having chicks of his own.

Ah...

Or maybe not.

Fortunately, summer is brief.

And, as autumn arrives, so does the snow and ice.

After her liaison with a male suitor, this female is now with cub.

Or, as the experts put it, knocked up.

She needs to dig a den to give birth in private.

Apart from our cameras; they don't count.

Yes, this is the Arctic,

and momma bear has to build her own labour ward

in the most inhospitable hospital in the world.

Well, there's no time to nap, you haven't finished yet.

What are you doing?

Oh! No, I remember. This is the clever bit.

Keen to conserve energy for the months ahead,

she lies down, and lets the arctic winter finish the job,

covering herself in a layer of snow until she disappears completely,

which isn't hard;

she's white, the snow is white, you know the drill by now.

By november, it's full-on blue-balled, windswept winter.

A convenient sunrise later, and it's already February.

And to give us a happy ending, new life appears.

And the pitter-patter of tiny paws can't be heard,

because of the snow,

but they're there.

Another generation

to rough and tumble it out in this arctic wilderness.

So, now we've come full circle;

full Arctic Circle.

We've witnessed the staggering ingenuity

of those that live in this shrinking winter wonderland.

♪♪

And it is shrinking.

Definitely. Not probably.

The arctic is under threat,

and it takes a brave person to point that out;

a brave person who will one day be recognised for taking a stand.

No, I don't think I'm going over the top, Tabitha.

This is my calling.

The plight of the animal kingdom

is what drives us filmmakers to live a nomadic existence,

chasing these transcendent moments of beauty.

The animal may go extinct...

but our film will last as long as humans have eyes.

♪♪

In preparation for filming

in one of the most hostile environments in the world,

and bringing you these stunning images,

the Round Planet team needed to familiarise themselves

with the challenges of the landscape.

The team were put through their paces using high-tech simulation equipment,

replicating the blindness caused by whiteout conditions.

The training was designed to prepare the crew

for unexpected surprises out on the tundra.

♪♪

Yet, despite the best possible equipment,

nobody saw the polar bear approaching.

So let's just say that particular exercise is now...

...under review.

♪♪

Ah, panini!

Oh, I said without avocado. Oh...