But almost from the get-go there's far more galumphing than trotting going on, and not all of it done by prehistoric feet. Things pick up in the third episode and there are dodos in the fourth, but it's not enough, no, not nearly enough.
And although there are moments of cheeky British humor, they are few and far between, making "Primeval" strangely somber. Of course, it's no joke that prehistoric water creatures are devouring college students, but honestly, you'd think any self-respecting evolutionary zoologist would consider that a small price for the chance to swim in the ocean primeval. Or hang out with an adorable flying dinosaur.
Instead, everyone vacillates between earnest and grim, too preoccupied by their personal lives -- Claudia wants to date Cutter, Cutter wants to find Helen, Abby wants to date Stephen, Connor wants to date Abby, and so on -- to find the exhilaration in watching the impossible emerge in a suburban woods. I know your wife has been missing for years, but ye gods, man, that's a bloody dinosaur.
Thinking perhaps I had missed some crucial element, I asked my 10-year-old son to watch it again with me, dinosaurs and hideous bugs being right up his alley. He enjoyed it but thought it would benefit from more firepower, meaning that Cutter and his team really should carry a few guns while stalking giant man-eating things.
I certainly couldn't argue with this, and actually a lack of firepower is a good way to describe what ails the show. Dinosaurs can stomp and giant spiders sting, Abby can be cute as a baby-sized Doc Martens and Stephen can look like Zac Efron's older brother, but if everyone on the screen is acting like it's all just an unfortunate situation to be dealt with, well, then, so will we.
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mary.mcnamara@latimes.com
