Is it a documentary, is it science, or is it hodgepodge of ideas with no central concept?
It is definitely worth watching on Prime Video – heck it is only two episodes – maybe two hours out of your life!
Octopus is an unexpectedly fascinating (and occasionally baffling) nature documentary.
I love octopuses and probably have seen most of the octopi documentaries that have been made within the last decade. I loved My Octopus Friend – it made me cry. It even touched on one of my favorite conspiracy theories – that there are colonies of smart octopus deep underwater that we have not yet discovered.
I had high hopes. But no….
Yes, the cinematography is exceptional with truly some of the most beautiful underwater footage I’ve seen. And yes, the science is solid, offering deep insights into octopus intelligence, behavior, and neurology. It’s a great example of how storytelling and visual design can bring complex biology to a broad audience.
But, that said, the tone shifts dramatically throughout. Enter: Tracy Morgan, whose comedic narration adds an unpredictable (and sometimes distracting) layer. While it might appeal to some viewers, the humor often clashes with the more serious scientific moments.
Octopus is a visually mesmerizing dive into the mysterious world of one of nature’s most bizarre and brilliant creatures. The cinematography is nothing short of jaw-dropping—close-up shots of color-shifting skin, hypnotic tentacles moving with eerie grace, and deep-sea sequences that evoke a kind of alien beauty. Every frame feels carefully crafted to showcase the intelligence and surreal biology of the octopus, and the science throughout is genuinely fascinating. Experts weigh in on everything from neural architecture to camouflage tactics. The show does an excellent job turning complex biology into digestible (and awe-inspiring) moments.
And then Tracy Morgan shows up.
In what seems like a last-minute creative decision, the show introduces Morgan as a kind of narrator-comic-relief hybrid. His commentary is… odd and bewildering. One moment, you’re listening to a marine biologist explain how octopuses use tools; the next, Morgan is cracking a one-liner about calamari. The tone lurches from poetic nature documentary to surreal buddy comedy, and back again, often within the same five minutes. It’s as if Planet Earth collided with 30 Rock and nobody told David Attenborough.
The writing suffers under the weight of this identity crisis. When it leans into the science, it’s compelling. When it leans into the humor, it’s uneven—sometimes charming, often jarring, even insulting. The script’s mood swings make it hard to know what kind of show you’re watching. Is this an educational piece with a quirky edge, or a comedy skit disguised as a nature doc?
Now add to it, the basic level animation that is used to fill in the gaps for needed underwater shots the production did not possess. To me, it seems like the producers needed to fill space and used animation and pseudo comedy to bulk the series out to two episodes.
Despite its tonal chaos, Octopus is worth watching for the visuals and scientific insights alone. If you can accept the narrative whiplash and the oddball choice of Tracy Morgan as your guide through the deep, you’ll come away with a deeper appreciation for one of Earth’s strangest and smartest animals—and maybe a few laughs along the way, whether intended or not.
Octopus is a bold attempt at blending science, style, and entertainment. Not all of it works, but it’s worth a watch—especially if you’re interested in the future of science communication through media.
#ScienceCommunication #NatureDocumentary #Cinematography #Octopus #TracyMorgan
#Octopus #MediaAndEducation #Storytelling
