Genndy Tartakovsky's Primal has been a stalwart of the "dudes rock" adult animated genre since its debut seven years ago. With its logline featuring caveman, dinosaur, fight, and together, it effortlessly draws viewers into its caustic world of primal violence and gravity. However, the series hit a roadblock in its second season finale, with the demise of Spear, one half of the winning duo.
Fortunately, Tartakovsky's creative team was able to revive Spear from the dead for the third season, transforming him into a zombie caveman. As expected, this new iteration kicks just as much butt, while also bringing more heart to the table than ever before.
This time around, Primal doesn't rest on its laurels; instead, it settles into being more of the same – offering a narratively focused tale with fewer non-sequitur adventures that serves as an extended epilogue for the series. In other words, Spear's undead existence becomes a metaphor for his own identity crisis.
Spear is introduced at the start of the third season, shuffling along like a ship of Theseus: a husk of his former self struggling to rekindle the light behind his eyes. As an unga-bunga series known for its ultra-violence, Primal manages to infuse Spear's zombie existence with emotional depth and relatability.
Primal indulges in the gentle stillness of Spear's asynchronous blinks and hilarious side-eyeing at obstacles like language barriers or his interactions with new companions. This quiet intensity is amplified by Spear's doe-eyed appreciation for nature, which fans have come to love more than ever. Only this time, Spear recognizes there's something irrecoverably missing within him – compelling him to search for answers.
The series' artistry and techno-tribal score by Tyler Bates and Joanne Higginbottom take center stage in Primal's third season, with a "National Geographic after dark" feel to its gnarly action and macro-appreciation of the flora and fauna Spike encounters.
While Primal's third season may feel like a hat on a hat to its second season, it is leagues more impactful as an emotional climax to the series. Tartakovsky's ability to tug at heartstrings while delivering picturesque action is further proof that he still has yarn to weave.
Primal's third season triumphs in preserving the flames of its roaring spirit with 10 distinct and mesmerizing episodes that oscillate from pulsing action to tranquil stillness. It's a must-watch for viewers willing to give it their full focus, as opposed to casual viewers who can half-watch while scrolling. This series is an unapologetically crafted work of art that rewards dedication.
In the world of animation, few creators have managed to stay bold, fresh, and original like Genndy Tartakovsky and his creative team. Primal's third season stands as a testament to this bravura of original prestige animation – the exception to the long-held sentiment, "They don't make animation like they used to."
Fortunately, Tartakovsky's creative team was able to revive Spear from the dead for the third season, transforming him into a zombie caveman. As expected, this new iteration kicks just as much butt, while also bringing more heart to the table than ever before.
This time around, Primal doesn't rest on its laurels; instead, it settles into being more of the same – offering a narratively focused tale with fewer non-sequitur adventures that serves as an extended epilogue for the series. In other words, Spear's undead existence becomes a metaphor for his own identity crisis.
Spear is introduced at the start of the third season, shuffling along like a ship of Theseus: a husk of his former self struggling to rekindle the light behind his eyes. As an unga-bunga series known for its ultra-violence, Primal manages to infuse Spear's zombie existence with emotional depth and relatability.
Primal indulges in the gentle stillness of Spear's asynchronous blinks and hilarious side-eyeing at obstacles like language barriers or his interactions with new companions. This quiet intensity is amplified by Spear's doe-eyed appreciation for nature, which fans have come to love more than ever. Only this time, Spear recognizes there's something irrecoverably missing within him – compelling him to search for answers.
The series' artistry and techno-tribal score by Tyler Bates and Joanne Higginbottom take center stage in Primal's third season, with a "National Geographic after dark" feel to its gnarly action and macro-appreciation of the flora and fauna Spike encounters.
While Primal's third season may feel like a hat on a hat to its second season, it is leagues more impactful as an emotional climax to the series. Tartakovsky's ability to tug at heartstrings while delivering picturesque action is further proof that he still has yarn to weave.
Primal's third season triumphs in preserving the flames of its roaring spirit with 10 distinct and mesmerizing episodes that oscillate from pulsing action to tranquil stillness. It's a must-watch for viewers willing to give it their full focus, as opposed to casual viewers who can half-watch while scrolling. This series is an unapologetically crafted work of art that rewards dedication.
In the world of animation, few creators have managed to stay bold, fresh, and original like Genndy Tartakovsky and his creative team. Primal's third season stands as a testament to this bravura of original prestige animation – the exception to the long-held sentiment, "They don't make animation like they used to."