Once upon a time, primitive cruelty reigned on a continent far, far away. Although the most impressive dinosaurs only terrified the crunchy vegetation, their smaller relatives fought a relentless battle. Humans, even if they looked like tasty prey, rushed into battle with predators of all sizes — drenching clear lakes, spiking plains and the foothills of boiling volcanoes with blood.
However, the descendants of apes, who already had the rudiments of intelligence, never attacked dangerous animals first. Most of the time, they hunted small animals, caught fish, hunted down wild boars, and chewed nasty insects on particularly hungry days. Their life can hardly be called idyllic, but it was extremely concise and understandable.
Primal man simply wanted to survive and procreate, passing on genes to the future generation at any cost. The loss of offspring was tantamount to defeat. A defeat in front of the order of things that forced anyone who stank with danger to vomit flesh. So the very moment a bunch of dinosaurs tore apart the nameless hero's family, he lost, and his existence was no longer meaningful.
In most works, regardless of their form, the death of loved ones and the pursuit of a murderer become the conflict around which the images of all actors are built. But in the animated series “Primal” Genndy Tartakovsky, primarily known as the creator of “Samurai Jack”, rejected familiar plot moves and a modern approach to storytelling.
When nature's loser prepares to take his own life, he meets a female Tyrannosaurus rex who takes care of her offspring alone. The primate, who has only taken a step towards an amazing and suffering society, finds himself again faced with the idyll that has slipped through his fingers in a swift stream. But even the beginnings of empathy are enough for him to be tender.
That's why the sudden visit of monsters who took the hero's family the day before and ate innocent Tyrannosaurus cubs without hesitation. It would seem that the circle is closed, the primate and the lizard are united by a thirst for revenge, but rage overshadows regret: offenders die almost instantly. Contrary to expectations, loved ones are avenged, and only bloodthirsty uncertainty looms ahead.
The heroes' subsequent adventures are like a road movie that doesn't have a final stop — miserable comrades are just running from death, peeking out from under every rock. This aimlessness, soaked in anxiety but allowing you to breathe deeply, permeates every episode. And it enhances his total “silence”.
The fact is that the only form of interaction in this world is shouting in different tones. “Primal” is completely devoid of dialogues, which in other works surround characters with connections and fill the space between direct action. It was this brevity that revived the pristine matter of cinema.
The absence of additional explanations freed up space for movement. Instead of resorting to forms of storytelling that were originally alien to cinema, Tartakovsky simply shows. Slowly and with lots of accents. If the main characters can't share the loot, a silent scene of several minutes will expose every comical nuance of this confrontation, without losing the high pace of the whole story.
Despite the fact that the second season is scheduled to be released in 2022, even in its current form, the unusual couple's journey feels complete. It's trite because it has a shocking start that doesn't require a full ending. After all, the only thing that awaits the local inhabitants is an inevitable and, most likely, painful death, whose face has not changed for thousands of years.
The primacy that made the headline indicates not so much the era in which the series takes place, but rather its overall structure. In his peculiar archaic nature, Tartakovsky found the magic that once made cinema popular, and in a palette of several colors he depicted a versatile and profound work.
The absence of speech does not prevent the main characters from understanding each other, because touch, gaze or simple mooing are enough for basic interaction. Because of their simplicity, these gestures are self-explanatory; on the contrary, with their versatility, they give events a certain tone — albeit not the most intricate, but full of empathy and compassion.
Moreover, the overall brevity of Primitive fits perfectly with its extreme cruelty. To the desperate roar, blood spills across the ground in puddles, limbs break crunchingly, and the entrails hang in the trees like garlands. Such directness fits seamlessly into a world in which the death of loved ones is not the final chord, but a commonplace cycle of cruelty.
Genndy Tartakovsky not only reconciled instinctive empathy with primitive violence, but also turned to the origins of cinema. The journey of a huge primate and a cat-like Tyrannosaurus is nothing more than a tribute to Charlie Chaplin's silent paintings — at first glance extremely simple and mocking, but in reality full of love and compassion for those around them.
