In the third episode, prominent adventure sports photographer Krystle Wright captures the immersive world of free-diving in Vanuatu, athletes who appear to walk on air in the canyons of Colorado, and powered para-gliders on the flooded salt pans of Utah.

We sure lucked out with Planet Earth. Blue skies, rolling hills, water everywhere. But our home didn't come like this out of the box. Earth was a real fixer-upper, and it took some seriously hard work to build this paradise. Nearly four billion years of renovation. Some tiny, some huge, to make this house a home. Creatures on Earth don't just live and die. They actually change the world around them.
The story of how for nearly 4 billion years, microbes, plants and animals have emerged and sculpted the planet's surface and atmosphere in the strangest of ways.

Dylan Jones is in the driving seat for this authoritative four-part look back. No stone remains unturned, as he revisits the New Romantics, rap, modern dance music, hip-hop, indie jingle, synth-pop, house music and club culture. He makes the case that the 1980s was the most radical, innovative and creative decade in the history of pop because, unlike other decades, unleashed a myriad of new musical genres in just 10 years.
In the first part, Dylan Jones explores how in this decade the world-conquering genres of rap, hip-hop and modern dance music were launched, while guitar-driven indie flourished in a constellation of scenes spread out across the world. And a technological revolution was changing how music was made, filling the charts with a starburst of innovative records. Meanwhile, the launch of MTV turned pop into a visual medium, allowing artists as varied as U2 and Eurythmics to take charge of how they presented themselves. Featuring interviews with Nile Rodgers, Bananarama, Primal Scream's Bobby Gillespie, Mark Ronson, Trevor Horn and Soul II Soul's Jazzie B.

The filmmakers challenge former Indonesian death-squad leaders to reenact their mass-killings in whichever cinematic genres they wish, including classic Hollywood crime scenarios and lavish musical numbers. Anwar Congo and his friends have been dancing their way through musical numbers, twisting arms in film noir gangster scenes, and galloping across prairies as yodeling cowboys. Their foray into filmmaking is being celebrated in the media and debated on television, even though Anwar Congo and his friends are mass murderers.
Medan, Indonesia. When the government of Indonesia was overthrown by the military in 1965, Anwar and his friends were promoted from small-time gangsters who sold movie theatre tickets on the black market to death squad leaders. They helped the army kill more than one million alleged communists, ethnic Chinese, and intellectuals in less than a year. As the executioner for the most notorious death squad in his city, Anwar himself killed hundreds of people with his own hands.
The Act of Killing is about killers who have won, and the sort of society they have built. Unlike ageing Nazis or Rwandan génocidaires, Anwar and his friends have not been forced by history to admit they participated in crimes against humanity. Instead, they have written their own triumphant history, becoming role models for millions of young paramilitaries. The Act of Killing is a journey into the memories and imaginations of the perpetrators, offering insight into the minds of mass killers. And The Act of Killing is a nightmarish vision of a frighteningly banal culture of impunity in which killers can joke about crimes against humanity on television chat shows, and celebrate moral disaster with the ease and grace of a soft shoe dance number.

The images of brothers Tamerlan and Dzhokhar Tsarnaev are released to the public setting off a violent chain of events. Meanwhile, clues from their past tell a complicated story - how was the radicalization of the ethnically Chechen brothers and the existence of potential collaborators. The post-9/11 biases played a role in the investigation.

Andrew Graham-Dixon begins his exploration of German art by looking at the rich and often neglected art of the German middle ages and Renaissance. He visits the towering cathedral of Cologne, a place which encapsulates the varied and often contradictory character of German art. In Munch he gets to grips with the earliest paintings of the Northern Renaissance, the woodcuts of Albrecht Durer and the cosmic visions of the painter Albrecht Altdorfer. Andrew also embarks on a tour of the Bavarian countryside, discovering some of the little-known treasures of German limewood sculpture.