By the end of its first episode, NBC’s “The Americas,” the 10-part Tom Hanks-narrated wildlife docuseries, already feels like a missed opportunity. A co-production between NBCUniversal and the BBC, the series bills itself as the first nature documentary to specifically highlight North and South America, the largest, most diverse accumulation of life on the planet. Over the course of five years, the series’ creators ventured on 180 expeditions to capture immersive and intimate footage of common and uncommonly known species of flora, animals and insects. The result is an objectively beautiful series filled with awe-inspiring landscapes and handsomely depicted wildlife whose existence is flattened by a repetitive approach.
From the jump, you can tell that David Attenborough’s natural history work served as a major influence for Hanks and executive producer Mike Gunton (“Planet Earth III”). Hanks’ quippy, unhurried narration anthropomorphizes every animal through winking jokes about taxes or by comparing them to archetypes of the Western genre. The score also works overtime to bowl over viewers’ feelings of grandeur and suspense. While Attenborough’s work usually looks through an ecocritical lens, the first three episodes of “The Americas” provided for review are nearly devoid of such urgency. Instead, this series examines nature purely via family and mating structures, making for a narrow vision whose vitality is akin to a slideshow.
I suppose one could make the argument that the family viewing aspect (this will be airing on NBC) makes such a broad crowd-pleasing approach a necessity. But I hesitate to answer if the scant analysis provided will have much staying power. In the first episode, for instance, we’re dropped in the wintery climate of Yellowstone where a coyote is dutifully foraging. Hanks makes mention of the coyote’s powerful sense of smell—it impressively yanks a bison bone from underneath a thick blanket of snow—but he doesn’t offer any concrete idea of how far or how deep a coyote can smell. “His nose is many more times sensitive than ours,” is the extent of Hanks’ teaching.
The cliffnotesification of nature continues throughout the three episodes, which takes viewers through the Western US, to the Atlantic coast, and down through Mexico. We’re introduced to a variety of species: the gorgeous amber-like nests of honeypot ants in Monument Valley, the savvy raccoons and opportunistic red-tailed hawks living in Manhattan, and the dollar-sized cactus pygmy owls of the Sonoran desert, and many more. We learn about their natural predators (the coachwhip snake preys on cactus pygmy owls) and their mating habits (the blue-footed booby dances during its courtship) but not much else. What marks do these species leave on their landscape? Are they a help or a detriment to other animals? These questions are unexamined. Rather, Hanks solely emphasizes the brutality of these spaces—predators and the weather—and how these species have adapted specific traits to survive.
The same could be said about how this series views humanity’s impact on the natural world. When talking about jaguars in Mexico, Hanks mentions that they are a protected species. “Protected from what?” a curious viewer might ask. He also notes that 80% of North American prairie is now farmland. “What’s been harmed due to our industrial-scale agriculture?” an inquisitive viewer might prod. The series goes into greater detail about how marine life has made sunken ships into homes at the bottom of the Atlantic or will praise the bald eagle as the “comeback queen” whose nests have bounced back after decades-long pesticide use nearly wiped out America’s national bird. However, when talking about other regions, the show skates past the man-made endangerment of other species. It only wants nature’s success stories.
The series does find a spark in episode three when it travels to the Yucatán Peninsula. Producers smartly lean on the Mayan ruins of Calakmul as an entry point for the region’s habitat by asking a simple question: Why did the Maya build here without any discernible river or lake running nearby? That answer introduces us to rare, mostly unseen aquatic species that look alien and prehistoric. It’s the first time there’s an exciting feeling of discovery amid these overwhelmingly beautiful vistas and landscapes, filmed with an immersive clarity that reminds one of the magical planet we call home. There is a sudden, pronounced sense of what exciting little-known sights might lie ahead in the show if the unremarkable first couple of episodes don’t turn viewers away from when (or if) “The Americas” finally takes shape.
Three episodes screened for review. Premieres on Sunday, February 23rd on NBC.