Spy in the Snow, review: Pales in comparison to David Attenborough documentaries

Narrator David Tennant elevates this latest edition, which fails to reach the heights of last year’s ‘Spy in the Wild’

There’s a definite frisson in seeing animals larking about in their natural habitats, blissfully unaware that they’re under surveillance (BBC)

Nature shows are pretty much impossible to dislike. Placing cameras in far-flung reaches of the world and watching animals in action will never fail to entertain. The main problem, however, is that when you’ve experienced perfection − Planet Earth, Blue Planet, anything narrated by David Attenborough − new documentaries, by and large, only pale in comparison.

So it’s exciting that the BBC has brought back its Spy series for a special one-off episode. With its ingenious concept of disguising cameras as the species they’re filming, the programme offers something different. Indeed, there is a definite frisson in seeing animals larking about in their natural habitats, blissfully unaware that they’re under surveillance from animatronic replicas of themselves. Not only that: by deploying these frankly kitsch-looking robots, Spy is able to take us to locations − including Alaska and the Southern Alps of New Zealand − whose barely trodden snowscapes are generally too treacherous for humans.

Unlike an episode from 2013, which centred solely on penguins, the first instalment of Spy in the Snow (BBC1) focuses on several creatures: polar bears, wombats, alpine parrots. Narrated by David Tennant, this is hour-long evidence that it’s hard out there for some animals. Otters minding their own business are targeted by swooping eagles one minute, while wombats take bites out of their unsuspecting kin’s backsides (if they’re hungry enough) the next.

Director John Downer’s latest edition fails to reach the heights of 2017’s Spy in the Wild, a series that peaked when a group of bereaved monkeys were shown mourning their friend − an animatronic langur they’d broken, but still believed to be real. It was a headline-hitting moment that’s not matched by anything here − which isn’t to say you won’t be left wanting to revisit certain scenes.

One astounding development, for instance, sees a polar bear sniff out a camouflaged camera that’s been sitting untouched in the snow for weeks. Seizing it, she begins rolling the device around the snowy location, essentially shooting her own scenes in the heart of a blizzardy Alaska. It’s captivating television, and is probably the first and last time we’ll see anything that’s been directed by a polar bear. Pretty cool, huh? It’s the pinnacle of a tame but ultimately satisfying episode.