Rating: 4.5 out of 5
DINOSAUR is an expertly crafted comedy-drama that embraces sit-com convention while offering something unique and wholly endearing at the same time.
Co-created by Ashley Storrie and Matilda Curtis (the daughter of director Simon Curtis and actress Elizabeth McGovern), the series derives much of its inspiration from the former’s real life experience: she received her autism diagnosis in her early 30s.
But while beautifully raising awareness of autism, it isn’t solely about being neurodivergent - even though the challenges of living with autism form a central part of its main character, Nina’s journey (Nina is played by Storrie).
Rather, Dinosaur also thrives as an ensemble piece, with every character feeling fully fleshed out and endearing in their own way: whether that’s Nina’s sister Evie (Kat Ronney) and her feminist husband, Ranesh (Danny Ashok), as well as Nina’s almost-sort-of boyfriend Lee (Lorn Macdonald), or her older brother, Bo (David Carlyle), who spends much of his time freaking out about getting Evie’s best friend, Amber, pregnant.
Even the small characters make their mark: with every autistic viewer sure to dig the performance of Jim Kitson as Nina’s older colleague, Declan, probably undiagnosed but certainly autistic.
Season two finds Nina involved in an unwitting love triangle of sorts: inadvertently torn between Clayton (Hyoie O'Grady), a new American colleague she met while on a work dig on the Isle of Wight, and Lee, who has been waiting for her to return from the dig after bonding with her towards the end of the first run.
It’s the sort of dilemma that has informed many comedies with the point of difference here being the way it affects Nina’s autism. There’s overwhelm, bad decisions stemming from an inability to read certain situations, as well as plenty of missed opportunities.
The challenges are mostly played for laughs but will resonate with the autistic community. They feel authentic, stemming from the lived experience that Storrie brings to it.
But the comedy is by no means trivial, either. It matters how the various characters are affected and you’ll genuinely find yourself both rooting for them and empathising with them.
Hence, the feel-good moments really do work without feeling contrived. When Lee performs at an open mic, hoping to impress Nina, you feel his sense of awkwardness as well as hers (for fear of projecting the wrong thing). The song itself, once sung, is surprisingly catchy and well delivered - a chorus of “It doesn’t matter what you do / As long as what you do is true” is loaded with meaning - with an appropriately giddy feeling.
But the final episode - which somehow manages to pull off a completely absurd childbirth scene with a similarly impressive payoff - ends things note perfectly; it’s honest in its depiction and portrayal of autism, yet still somehow achingly romantic without the schmaltz.
Dinosaur has been a delight throughout its two seasons so far. One can only hope that a third season is on the way. It’s a hidden gem, awaiting discovery (or excavation) from the BBC archive (or iPlayer to you and me), which should also be wholeheartedly embraced by the autistic community.
See also: Film Club
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Dinosaur: Season 2 - Review