Review: Primal “Spear & Fang”

“Visionary” is a term that gets tossed around a lot these days, with it often going unwarranted. Sure, many people are talented, but a visionary is someone who truly operates on another level and creates art that didn’t seem possible. Genndy Tartakovsky is a visionary. From Samurai Jack to Sym-Bionic Titan to even Dexter’s Laboratory, Tartakovsky has created some incredibly ambitious animated series that push the genre to its limits. While Tartakovsky’s other works have been exceptional, his newest series, Primal, feels especially up his alley. Primal operates like a prehistoric Samurai Jack in many ways, but it’s also so much more than that. Primal delivers a better first episode than Tartakovsky’s other shows, which certainly aren’t lacking in any ambition either. This one just immediately hits the ground so fully formed.

“Spear & Fang,” the introductory episode of Primal accomplishes a lot in its brief 22-minutes. The installment effectively establishes the series’ impressive visual style. However, more than anything else this first episode is really just a big meditation on the grieving process. Both Spear and Fang begin this series with happy lives, but by the end of this episode, they’re both looking at considerably different lots. “Spear & Fang’s” structure also brilliantly parallels the steps involved with the grieving process. The episode starts with a very melancholy beginning, which then progresses into a highly vengeful second act.

“Spear & Fang” is really the perfect kind of pilot that does everything right in a very big way. It’s a powerful origin story that properly allows you get to know the protagonist. At the same time, it also eloquently sets up the series’ larger story. The plot beats are simple this time around and all that’s really important is that Spear and Fang both lose their families. This is what brings these enemies together. This premiere forms the foundation for what looks to be one of the most improbable unlikely alliances. Plus, there’s a powerful message about friendship and looking beyond social constructs or barriers. And this is all done without a single word of dialogue.

Perhaps the most engrossing thing about “Spear & Fang” is its lethargic pace and how it’s not afraid to take its time. The season five “return” of Samurai Jack took a similar approach with its storytelling, but Primal is even more deliberate. This episode is largely about having the patience to wait and knowing when it’s the right time to strike. Otherwise, you’re never going to catch that fish or de-throat that T-Rex. Primal’s premiere knows that flashy action sequences are important, but it argues that silence and slowing things down are just as fundamental. So much of “Spear & Fang” devotes time to simply lingering on shots where Spear relishes a sunset, or his family, or both.

As alluded to earlier, Primal also takes a page out of Samurai Jack’s playbook in terms of its use of minimalist speech. Primal goes even further in this department and is completely void of dialogue. Curiously, this silence actually is justified within the series since all of this takes place in an era that’s pre-language. Primal is so adept in its storytelling that you’ll honestly forget that nobody’s been talking (although Aaron LaPlante provides Spear’s impassioned grunts).

Along the same lines, the dialogue feels like an afterthought when the series is capable of conveying so much emotion through Spear’s expressions alone. Spear enters as a cipher, but as his face softens and hardens it’s hard not to empathize with him and the depressing lot that he’s been dealt. There’s an intensely powerful moment in the premiere where Spear, when at his lowest point, contemplates suicide. The concept of a brooding caveman who’s capable of this level of reflection is staggering. It’s a wonderfully rich idea and one that I’ve never seen considered anywhere else before. It’s easily my favorite scene in “Spear & Fang” and if you’re not on Spear’s side after that point then there may be no hope for you here.

Music and sound design are always going to be very important in animation, but due to the lack of dialogue in Primal, these elements become drastically more crucial. Every action resonates and thunders and there’s an appropriately dynamic score to further help bring all of this to life. Tyler Bates (Guardians of the Galaxy, John Wick) and Joanne Higginbottom always do solid work, but their soundscapes and score in Primal are particularly impressive. It effortlessly shifts from slower moody numbers to epic action battle rallies. It’s the first thing that has a chance to grab you in this series.

Primal’s score helps throw you into this prehistoric world, but the series’ animation is just as immersive. Primal creates gorgeous scenery and lush environments that frequently invert or swap their color palette for dramatic effect. Shadow and light are just as pivotal here to help show off the wasteland that Spear and Fang must survive. Even though there’s a real emotional core to this series, it’s still not afraid to embrace violence and gore. Primal is rather extreme on the topic and it’s not at all interested in holding back. Several moments from “Spear & Fang” should make audiences wince and cringe in pain. This is all topped off with some really stunning fight choreography that’s both vicious, but also creative enough to make each battle feel fresh and unique. The threats that Spear faces against in this first episode become increasingly intense and do a nice job of building up the stakes. The series’ addictive structure intentionally takes advantage of the five-night “event series” approach that feels like a throwback to old adventure serials.

Spear and his newfound dinosaur companion are technically triumphant in their struggles, but they both suffer from devastating losses. It’s frankly a little surprising to see how sad and dark Primal’s first episode is willing to become. Depressing consequences fill the installment and in many ways, this is a revenge story that’s still in its smoldering phase. That being said, it’s necessary for “Spear & Fang” to go to these dark places. The loss and anger that they both experience is the catalyst that’s necessary to bring them together in this unlikely alliance.

Primal makes a strong first impression and “Spear & Fang” feels like the start of something that’s genuinely special. The more restrained, passive moments in this pilot may not work for everyone, but they help reflect the full scope of this project. Yes, there are rampaging dinosaurs and pissed off barbarians, but there’s a beating heart that could also teach us a lot.