Original subtitles

This planet,

moving at a speed of over 100,000 kilometres per hour through space

and at a speed of one hour per hour through time,

is home to a bewildering array of animals

and plants.

Here, and only here,

life has found countless ways to flourish.

Life has grown legs

or a beak

or whatever... that is.

Life does its own thing.

It doesn’t care what anyone thinks.

This is its crazy story. This is Round Planet:

The Story of Everything.

You know, Tabitha,

even after 30 years, I still get goosebumps

when I see my name on the screen.

In some of our planet's most ancient and inaccessible forests,

lives a remarkable and elusive group of animals.

I see what you’re doing here, Tabitha.

This is a tease, isn’t it?

Yes. Tantalising the audience with what’s coming up.

Very good, yes.

A glimpse of simian fur.

A pair of ape-ish eyes.

Well, this is all very lovely, Tabby,

but it is only half an hour, this program.

Shall we press on?

The great apes.

They’re not mediocre or fair to middling.

Don’t call them "monkeys". They hate that.

It’s like calling a New Zealander an "Aussie"

or a hobbit.

With their opposable thumbs

and their ability to use tools, they are "phenomemally" humanlike.

In fact, there are more parallels with our culture and society

than perhaps we realise or care to admit.

Complex social politics.

Running about and shouting.

Peace keeping.

And dot-com startups.

Okay, not those.

In the animal kingdom, they are our closest living relatives.

Okay, Tabby, can we not over

I mean, when was the last time you saw me

swinging through the trees with my tackle out?

Actually, don’t answer that.

Thank you.

"The Great Apes:

Mirror of Man".

Hmm. That’s nice, but Tabby, can we make it "humanity", not "man"?

I know we’ll lose the alliteration, but we won’t be sexist.

Sexism just isn’t me. You know that.

That’s lovely. There’s a poppet.

Africa.

Whoever chose the music certainly wants you to know that.

Three quarters of our great apes are found on this vast continent.

The Virunga Mountain Range

on the Ugandan-Rwandan border

is home to the mighty mountain gorilla.

There they are, wishing they were beach gorillas. Yes.

On the slopes of the mountain range,

up to three metres of rain can fall in a year.

A fact they leave off the tourist website.

These giants tough out the cold, damp conditions with a thick layer of fur,

that protects them from the pouring rain.

They are prepared, just like I was

until Garth Delaspong, my cameraman

lost my coat at Kampala Airport.

“I’m gonna get us both coffees, Garth.

Make sure nobody steals my coat,”

is what I said to Garth.

But anyway.

When the rains clear, the gorillas carry on with life.

Each family group is dominated by a single leader.

An alpha male, called a "silverback".

Suffice to say, up here, grey hair is in.

And it’s not just his sexy salt and pepper which gain him respect.

It’s his size.

It’s astonishing to think

that you can build one of these enormous creatures

out of nothing but leaves and twigs

and a "phemomenal" amount of testosterone.

At 180 kilos,

he is a seriously big unit.

And is more than capable of protecting his family,

which is the standard setup of several wives and a gaggle of kids.

Much like my brother, Warren.

Silverbacks, like some people, have terrible double standards.

It’s okay for them to be polyamorous, but apparently not okay for the females.

Any male rival must be scared away.

See how he beats his chest.

Well, just imagine his chest was your face.

Ooh.

This alpha male loves having a big family,

but, like my brother, only contributes to one part of the effort involved.

There’s nothing like a tap on the shoulder to put you off your stride though.

After what he probably thinks is a stellar performance,

the silverback is knackered

and, like any man, promptly falls asleep.

Although it’s not long before another amorous admirer approaches.

Intense eyeballing is her chosen strategy

because gorillas have no chat-up lines.

If she had, she might say,

“I like your parasitic lice, and your silver back is very... silver.

Did I mention I like your parasitic lice?"

But the silverback pretends to be asleep.

Oh, that’s embarrassing.

Mountain gorillas live in what is essentially

a massive salad bowl

and spend five hours a day eating.

The silverback leads the way, and the family follows,

stopping where he stops

and eating what he eats. It’s monkey see, monkey do.

But as I said before, don’t let them hear you call them "monkeys".

Now, anyone who’s tried to feed a toddler knows

that kids are highly suspicious of green things,

and the sprout equivalent for gorillas is goose grass.

Oh no, doesn’t like that.

Tabitha, I think it'd be good to have a few gags in here.

Oh.

Oh, yes.

Okay, you’ve made your point.

These gorillas also eat fungi

and could show vegans a thing or two

when it comes to spectacularly bland meals.

Mountain gorillas even occasionally eat wood

because it’s rich in minerals.

But a diet almost exclusively made up of vegetables

comes with some unpleasant after effects.

Yes, sorry.

Mountain gorillas have not yet discovered fire.

Let’s hope they don’t for health and safety reasons.

Further north in Africa, in the lowlands of Senegal,

is another of our hairy cousins.

So advanced, it wouldn’t surprise me

if they shot this footage themselves.

The chimpanzee.

Chimps, unlike some humans who work for the BBC,

are intelligent, social animals with a complex culture.

Living in stable communities of between 15 and 150 members,

they have a political system of sorts

where favours are traded.

It’s all based on nits.

You pick mine out; I’ll pick yours out.

Well, the introduction of shampoo would put an end to all this,

but the park rangers take a very dim view of chimp washing.

When it comes to food, chimpanzees will eat pretty much anything.

Although they, like myself, draw the line at lychees.

Urgh, they’re like goblins’ eyeballs.

But one thing chimps do love is a portion of ants:

a vicious source of protein and very bite-y.

But with their large developed brains, chimps have devised an ingenious solution

to this aggressive food problem.

The chimp pokes the stick into the ants’ nest.

The furious residents bite the twig intruder, and voila...

ant skewers.

Sticks are not the only gismo in the chimpanzee’s tool kit.

When zoologists first saw this behaviour back in the ‘60s, they went bananas. Because until this point, we assumed that tool use was a uniquely human trait.

It was a different era back then though.

You know, you could smoke everywhere for a start.

I used to smoke at the dentist.

Laurie, my dentist for many years,

he loved a cigar.

Bolivars were his favourite,

and he’d be very careful not to knock the ash out into your mouth.

A total professional.

Although, he did once stub a cigarette out on my earlobe, but that was an accident.

Anyway,

using one stone as an anvil

and another as a hammer,

this chimp is an expert nutcracker.

He didn’t invent the method. He’s not that good.

No. It was passed down to him,

and when the younger apes come to watch, it is passed on again.

Skills transfer from generation to generation.

Oh. Looks so cute, doesn’t he?

But he won’t look so cute when he starves to death

because he didn’t pay attention to the anvil lesson.

I’m sorry if that sounds harsh, but that’s nature’s way.

But chimpanzees aren’t all peace, love, understanding, and... ants on a stick.

Tabitha’s change of music

now tells us that the chimps aren’t about to go gathering berries.

They look to the trees for a high energy hit.

These adult males are getting ready.

With their fur standing on end to make them look bigger and more fearsome.

A bit like Chris Packham rubbing his hair with a balloon before he goes live.

Oh, what you thought it stood up like that naturally?

Oh, no.

They set off on a hunt.

And they can travel many hours in search of prey

as they head deep into the forest.

So, what is their source of protein, you ask?

Tree ants

Perhaps a nice tuna melt?

No.

Monkeys.

Tabby, darling, can you let me know when it’s over, please?

I’ll just keep my eyes on the script.

What? What do you mean that will be a first?

Cheek.

Up they go. Stealthily at first.

Then yelping and hooting.

Like they failed to agree on tactics.

But this is, in fact, a coordinated, dual-pronged attack.

One band chases a monkey up into the trees,

driving it to the ends of branches,

where the other ravenous chimps lie in wait.

Oh. I looked up too soon. Oh.

Oh, it’s okay. I’ll push on. I’ll just... I’ll push on.

Let’s travel onwards to central Africa.

The Congo bit of the round planet.

Here, we find our most socially advanced great ape.

I’m talking about the Bono. Isn’t he the guy I can’t get off my phone?

Sorry. Tabby, can you pass me my glasses?

Um... Ah, yes.

The Bonobo.

Previously known as the "pygmy chimpanzee".

Though, that was a little confusing

as they’re not that much smaller than a chimpanzee,

and the "almost-the-size-of-a chimpanzee"

never really caught on.

This great ape is the newest to science.

Although the locals knew about them for yonks,

and of course the Bonobos knew about themselves.

But it wasn’t until the 1920s that scientists found them.

And nothing really exists until science says it does.

That’s how science works.

We share something like 96 percent of our DNA with these fellows.

However, we supposedly share 50 percent of our DNA with a banana,

so, take from that useful fact what you will.

Bonobos are more slender and graceful than chimps.

And they like the pink lips and centre parting look.

Of course, the more you look at Bonobos,

the more they look like people you know.

It’s just like you, Tabitha.

I can see you through the glass, you know.

You see, now this one reminds me

of a holistic optometrist I once went to see on Harley Street.

I didn’t really like her. She just kept touching my face.

But it isn’t just their looks that sets this subspecies of chimpanzee apart.

Like chimps, Bonobos live in large social groups,

but instead of a society ruled by males and aggression,

these groups are governed by females and seduction.

Bonobos have a, uh, special means to maintain the harmony of their troop.

Let’s just say it’s unlikely to be adopted

as a UN peacekeeping measure anytime soon.

They maintain the peace morning, noon, and night

in every conceivable position.

Well, you get the picture.

Sorry, Tabby?

No. No, I don’t think we need to pixelate. I think we’ll just draw attention to it.

For Bonobos, sex isn’t just a precious thing

that you save for that one special person.

It’s basically the equivalent of a handshake or a high five.

Blimey. Looks like they’ve covered the whole Kama Sutra,

and it’s not even lunch time.

This joyous, unashamed, and, at times, startlingly inventive genital jamboree

is the everyday glue that bonds the Bonobos' peaceful society together.

Garth the cameraman said we could learn from the Bonobos.

The rest of the crew said nothing.

While Bonobos evidently enjoy each other’s company a lot,

across the other side of the globe in Indonesia,

there’s a great ape that’s less sociable.

In the jungle of Sumatra hides a solitary figure.

Although "hides" is a bit misleading. It’s bright, ruddy orange.

Oh. Is this another tease, Tabitha? I thought we talked about this.

It is, of course, the orangutan,

which means "man of the forest".

Though, this one is female, so I’m not quite sure how that works.

Science, eh

First orang I ever saw in the wild was in a ruined temple

and was talking to a boy about the secret of fire.

Then, a panther and a bear appeared,

and the bear did a dance with a coconut in his mouth.

Quite extraordinary moment.

Oh. No wait.

No. I’m thinking of the Jungle Book.

Sorry. Sorry, Tabitha. Sorry.

While Bonobos are social animals, these chaps generally live on their own.

Except for the mums whose kids live with them until they are about eight years old

when they are kicked out of home to fend for themselves.

During the time they spend with their mother,

young orangs will learn which food is where and at what time of year.

Homeschooling.

No English, maths, history, or French.

Just fruit location.

And every now and then, for a bit of variety,

these apes will indulge in a spot of honey,

straight from the hive,

whilst being attacked by angry bees.

Really, if they don’t like this sort of persistent theft,

bees should make something less tasty,

like haggis or bran flakes.

Ants are also on the menu.

Although, when compared to chimpanzees,

the orangutan’s table manners leave something to be desired.

One: stick fist in ants.

Two: lick fist.

Three: stick fist in ants again.

Continue until ape brain remembers that honey is quite a lot nicer.

Shots of... clouds forming. Garth’s great at this.

"One of the best in the business," we call it in the business.

Yes. Takes them from the balcony while he’s putting a dent in the mini bar.

We’re setting the scene, and the scene is set.

It’s raining in the rainforest.

The frequent deluge doesn’t dissuade the determined orangutan, however,

because, over the last million years or so,

they have evolved a remarkable skill.

They make rain hats.

They are probably the only creatures, apart from humans, that make headwear.

Oh, no. I seem to remember puffins make berets.

Anyway.

Orangutans may not have the tool-making skills of their chimpanzee cousins,

but when it comes to accessorizing, the orange one has got it nailed.

Hmm. It’s certainly a statement,

but it’s not really a hat though.

And that, in a stone-cracked nutshell

is the story of our closest living relatives in the animal kingdom

and what a "phenomenomenal" family they are.

Some might say all that really separates us from the great apes

is our ability to speak.

And read and write.

And drive cars.

And do jobs.

But apart from that,

oh, and invent computers and the internet, but that’s probably about it.

Yeah... Anyway, either way,

the great apes are fascinating,

entrancing members

of the animal kingdom.

And who knows where they will be in a million years?

They could be making documentaries about us.

They won’t be

because they’re apes, but I think it’s fun way to end it,

so keep that in.

Right. Time for that poo.

Oh, I’d completely forgotten about this.

The "making of", right.

Of course, capturing the fantastic images in this series is no easy task.

To film the great apes, the crew had to pack light

for our treks deep into the jungle. With a crew of just ninety people,

carrying a barebones kit of 200 cases,

it took us a mere five weeks to reach base camp.

Now, we were hoping to be the first ones to film there,

but we were sad to discover that there were 14 other crews on location.

With our tents eaten by leeches,

we were forced to book rooms in a local five-star hotel

with a fabulous two-star Michelin restaurant.

I know you’re not supposed to spend BBC money on that, but "needs must". Anyway, I hope you enjoyed looking at all the monkeys. Aren’t they funny?