Relax, it’s David Attenborough.

That was my second thought when I learned that yet another nature series was being pushed at us on Sunday evenings. However, my first thought was: I’m tired of seeing cute monkeys pat one another and baby zebras stagger to their feet. Must I watch more? But seeing Attenborough as the narrator pepped me up. This has to be something special if the great man is involved.

And it truly was. At times, watching this programme felt like watching a violent Hollywood thriller. All the language of the excited cinema-goer was deployed in my house: Don’t go there! Look behind you! Argh, please don’t hurt him! Oh, I can’t watch this bit!

Needless to say, no cute monkeys or baby zebras were involved because this was nature red in tooth and claw.  

It’s about the “duals between hunter and hunted”, and the strategies the predator employs in stalking his prey. “For both it’s a matter of life and death.”

Surprisingly, in these brutal duals it’s normally the wee one who wins. The fearsome hunter usually fails and so must develop tactics and ploys because it is not sufficient simply to have an advantage in teeth, speed or weight.

We see a leopard hunting impala. Such a distinctive creature has no hope of getting close to the skittish impala who will scatter, en masse, at the first glimpse of an approaching leopard and so her strategy is to use cover, “wearing it like a cloak of invisibility.” She develops her own version of trench warfare by creeping along in a ditch so that she may approach the herd unseen. “Slowly does it….” whispers Attenborough, and the tension of the hunt is real.

But what if you have no cover and are hunting in Zambia’s wide flat plains? The wild dogs who hunt here run in packs and rely on the strategy of chasing their prey until he is exhausted. They will choose a direction each morning – mum decides – and then set off “prospecting” until they spot a target. In this case it’s a wildebeest – a hefty opponent whose herd presents “a wall of horns”. Aside from this being a great band name, it also means the wildebeest is a particularly fearsome challenge. Here, we were treated to breath-taking footage from the sky where we looked down on a pack of dogs circling two wildebeest - but they have strategies of their own. Facing down the circle of dogs, “like a beast with two heads, each wildebeest protects the others’ rump”. Others use the tactic of bouncing as he flees, showing the pursuing dogs that he’s nowhere near exhaustion, and so is a poor prospect for a continued chase.

There is some relief from the hectic chase scenes in the chameleon who can only detect prey when it moves, and so must sit for hours patiently watching sticks to determine if they are indeed sticks or tasty stick insects, but soon enough we’re back in the grim, bloody, often unbearable hunts.

There are crocodiles who lurk timelessly in muddy rivers, and silently and suddenly submerge when a herd of wildebeest approach for a nice drink. They imitate “floating logs” then make a grab for the skinny little legs at the river bank. In one particularly horrible detail we learn the crocs can’t chew, so they spin ferociously in the water in order to dislodge chunks of their victim’s flesh.

This programme was genuinely harrowing to watch, being composed of all the worst, merciless parts of nature documentaries; cuteness is cut out leaving just the aspects of death and survival. The footage of the chase will, depending on your philosophy, have you shouting “Run, little dude, run!” or “Yes! Get him!”

Being a softy, I was supporting the underdog, so was cheering on the wildebeest and gazelle. However, logic suggests it’s actually the hungry hunter who’s the underdog as he’s the one most likely to fail and, so, go hungry and put his litter at risk of starvation.

So if you’re likely to support the underdog, you need to accept that, in the natural world, he’s a bit of a git.