The Brutal Brilliance Of “Primal”.

Genndy Tartakovsky’s Primal might be savage and downright sadistic at times, but it might also be the most engaged I’ve been by a television show in some time. I haven’t felt this uncomfortable, yet riveted since the heady days of Game Of Thrones. Being that the series is centered on the fraught companionship of a primitive man (Spear) and a Tyranasauras (Fang), set in an anachronistic interpretation of prehistory, it’s surprising just how poignant these stories are. Especially considering that there is no dialogue, with the exception of indistinguishable growls, mumbles and a character later on that speaks in a language we can’t understand. There are no subtitles or narration either. Primal relies on the animation, music and the intelligence of its audience to infer how characters are feeling. Even the unorthodox companionship of Primal’s leads is dependent on them interpreting one another’s indeterminate gestures or snarls to communicate. And it’s this often volatile chemistry that propels the series.

Fang and Spear are two conflicting species and natural enemies in this conceived reality, bound together by mutual tragedy. It’s a tentative coalition, one that is liable to splinter at the slightest provocation. Despite the potential fracturing, it is also a relationship that develops into something almost symbiotic. Their understanding of one another becomes almost intuitive, as does our understanding of them. It’s clear though that this is a destructive duo, culpable for the eradication of entire species. But always for the purpose of preserving their friends safety. You’d be hard pushed to find a more dedicated and selfless dynamic than the one nurtured by these two. Though both could be perceived as primitive, violent beasts, with conduct that admittedly supports such superficial observations. They both demonstrate an aptitude for higher thinking, with Spear’s capacity to analyse a situation and fabricate new weaponry and Fang, again, a T-Rex, demonstrating her own cognisance by conceiving her own formulated plans and even playing dead! And considering the world that they inhabit, it’s imperative that they have each other’s backs.

There is some real depth here, despite being predicated on such lurid violence and the inherent brutality of life and survival. With creatures getting bludgeoned into pasteurised meat sacks or bursting into a shower of blood and sinew. It’s the kind of excessive ferocity that is so vigorous that your instinctive reaction is to laugh. Primal really does relish in the hostility of its setting. Whether it’s Fang and Spear hunting a weary and wounded mammoth, before being pursued by its herd, mourning the loss of one of their own. A hidden creature of such cunning brutality, that it could be considered the prehistoric equivalent of Micheal Myers. Or placid docile Brachiosaurus, becoming infected by a mysterious, rage-inducing contagion, trampling its kin underfoot. The downright disturbing implications of a prehistoric world ravaged by a plague is a terrifying concept.

There is such tenderness, meloncholy and remorse scattered amongst some of the most extravagant violence I’ve ever seen, without out it feeling gratuitous. Whilst reminding the audience that often violence begets violence. Combined with the rousing score and dynamic animation, “Primal” is not only one of the best animated shows around, but perhaps the most compelling television shows there are.