Planet Earth

After the rousing success of The Blue Planet, the BBC is back to doing one of the many things it does best, wildlife documentaries. True, unlike the rather more specific documentaries which go into great detail on one species or habitat, the broad sweep of Planet Earth means that, what it lacks in fine detail, it makes up for in awe inspiring images; a visual orgasm. Even things you thought you'd seen before on TV are filmed in jaw dropping ways, with amazing clarity and immense scope, making our already beautiful planet look about as spectacular as it could without actually going on location. When the first series came and went without a soundtrack album, I remained confident that the BBC wouldn't pass up the chance to release George Fenton's gorgeous music and, right on cue, with the second series, we get this double disc set of Fenton doing what he does best, bold, orchestral scoring that, on screen just enhances the entire programme into an audiovisual wallow of the finest sort.
The Blue Planet had a gorgeous choral theme, but here Fenton's main theme is a little more brief, a beautifully wrought orchestral crescendo that accompanies the opening image of the globe, with the sun rising behind it. It may be short, but it's a spine tingling way to open and Fenton makes brief uses of it elsewhere, transforming it into a elegant, but non-ostentatious, waltz. Of course, in a score such as this, it's the epic moments that stick out in the mind and there are plenty to go round. From the sparkling Discovering Deer Cave, to the glorious Angel Falls and, later, Jungle Falls, each one echoes the splendid photography, whether it's external, as in the latter two, or deep underground in Deer Cave. Of course, this is a wildlife documentary and so, beyond the beauty of the landscape beauty, there are moments for its inhabitants and their moments of drama captured for us to see.

As with Blue Planet, there are moments of tension, excitement, pathos and humour. Of the more dramatic episodes, Hunting Dogs, The Wolf and the Caribou and Dangerous Landing are perhaps the standouts, with passages that could easily come from a big budget action movie score. There are plenty of quieter moments, but Fenton treats them with the sensitivity of an intimate human drama. Of note are The Snow Leopard, with it's intimate arrangement for piano and cello, while Mother and Calf builds from a mournful opening to a dramatic conclusion in The Great Journey. One particularly harrowing moment, as some penguin chicks are Lost in the Storm, features a gentle vocal performance by Catherine Bott - echoing Ralph Vaughan Williams' score for Scott of the Antarctic. For the lighter side, Fenton pulls back from outright comedy, but Fly Catchers, the opening of Fledglings and the witty Surfing Dolphins are a welcome change of pace.

Given the nature of scoring a series such as this, as an album, Planet Earth is rather bitty and lacks the cohesion of Fenton's feature scores, although his distinctive style and hints of the main theme tie parts of it together, but many are melodically unrelated. It does make the first couple of listens a little hard going as almost every track throws up something different and there's not always a strong musical thread to cling on to. However, taken in portions, the music is all very satisfying. The occasional hint of ethnic wail feels a little unnecessary, but Fenton keeps the orchestra in the foreground, rather than leaving the vocal to dominate and the results are surprisingly effective. Anyone who enjoyed Blue Planet will undoubtedly get a kick out of every note here, although the promised feature version of the series will likely result in a more satisfying presentation of Fenton's music as happened with Deep Blue. That caveat aside, still highly recommended.

As a side note, Fenton's music was not featured in the trailers for the series, but used the track Hoppipolla from the album Takk... by Icelandic band Sigur Ros. The album is available here, although don't expect the whole album to be like that - it's quite avant garde most of the time, but worthy of exploration.