Caroline Frost

In 2018, Chris Mason stood outside the Houses of Parliament to give his opinion on the never-ending Brexit negotiations. He told the BBC Breakfast audience: “To be quite honest, looking at things right now, I haven’t got the foggiest idea what is going to happen in the coming weeks. Is the Prime Minister going to get a deal with the EU? Dunno. Is she going to be able to get it through the Commons? Don’t know about that either. 

“I think you might as well get Mr Blobby back on to offer his analysis, because, frankly, I suspect his is now as good as mine.” 

From the opening moments of Seven Worlds, One Planet we know that we’re in safe hands. Orchestral strings soar as a deserted, sun­dappled beach comes into view. Sir David Attenborough strides out across the sand, a big, warm coat the only concession to his 93 years.

With his unique authority, he introduces a montage of images drawn from seven continents to give us hints of the emotion-stirring, jaw-dropping stories to come. It is immediately clear that, once again, both Sir David and the BBC’s Natural History Unit have excelled themselves.

You could be forgiven for thinking that Jeff Pope was obsessed by the macabre. Why else would he be drawn to such odious topics as the Moors murders, serial killer Fred West or Britain’s last hangman, Albert Pierrepoint?

He puts it like this: “If drama is about conflict, which it is, you’re looking for the extremes of conflict. Those areas are love, fate and, I would argue, crime.

“I am not a depressive person or ghoulish but it’s the old journalist in me: there’s a good story in it.”