Fossil find clears up bone of contention

Uncovering our earliest ancestor: The link, BBC1

Simon Schama's John Donne, BBC1

DESPITE my natural tendency to shy away from blaring hyperbole, I couldn't resist being swept up by the lofty excitement of David Attenborough's Uncovering Our Earliest Ancestor: The Link. After all, on those rare occasions when scientists come among us to announce the discovery of something pretty darn important actually, it's really in our best interests to listen, learn and share in the awe.

This was the astonishing story of the 47-million-year-old fossilised primate which has been scientifically proven to be humankind's earliest biological antecedent. Although the results of this long, exhaustive study were made widely available last week, it was still fascinating to find out more about this hugely significant and vital link in our understanding of evolution.

Written and narrated by Attenborough, the film followed Dr Jrn Hurum of Oslo University who first came into contact with the fossil in December 2006. Amazingly, it had actually been unearthed 25 years earlier, in an archaeologically fecund part of Germany known as the Messel Pit, but had languished in private hands ever since. Hurum likened this to selfishly hoarding an undiscovered Rembrandt or Van Gogh. Once it was in his care (the identity of the original owner remains a mystery), he immediately recognised it as the oldest and most exquisitely well-preserved primate fossil ever found. No wonder he barreled through the film with the barely contained excitement of a child on Christmas Eve.

Following more than two years of painstaking examination, Hurum and his handpicked team of eminent experts eventually proved that this tiny long-tailed creature – nicknamed Ida after Hurum's daughter – was definitely not part of the lemur, or prosimian, lineage as initially suspected, but rather a transitional anthropoid ancestor of primates and humans. There's one in the eye for the creationists – not that they have much truck with irrefutable evolutionary evidence, of course, but the point still stands on its opposable-thumbed hands.

In Simon Schama's John Donne, the historian made an impassioned case for, to his mind, "the most electrifying poet in the English language." Vexed that more people aren't aware of Donne's work – as illustrated by his encounter with a couple of bemused builders, who you'd assume would be experts in the field of 17th-century romantic poetry – Schama set about his celebration with typical zeal.

While regaling us with the details of Donne's turbulent life, he was abetted by arresting contributions from Oxford don John Carey and actress Fiona Shaw reading several seductive extracts from Donne's oeuvre. Did you know he coined the phrase "no man is an island"? And from the same sonnet, "never send to know for whom the bell tolls; it tolls for thee"? Of course you did.

But I had no idea his poetry was so lusty and tactile, full of ribald proclamations such as "license my roving hands and let them go," a fantastic thing to bellow upon entering a busy GP's waiting room.

Unfortunately, the scenes of Schama and Shaw passionately analysing Donne's poetry began to grate after a while. It was impossible to take them seriously, as they reminded me of old Fry and Laurie sketches parodying similarly animated discourse about the arts.

Nevertheless, I couldn't really fault the intentions of this otherwise illuminating programme.