Edge of existence

DONAL MACINTYRE begins to wonder if he's doing the right thing while in a canoe at the dead of night hunting crocodiles. "If the canoe capsizes, we become the hunted," he says.

It probably seemed a good wheeze to go and live with a tribe unaffected by modern ways after seeing Bruce Parry do the same thing in BBC2's compelling Tribe. Now MacIntyre's beginning to wonder if this isn't "an adventure too far".

Moving in with the Insect tribe in Papua New Guinea is very different to his usual investigative work. The croc hunt is only one of the activities these tribesmen, who were cannibals and headhunters not so long ago, have planned for him.

They seem pleased to see him - everyone gets dressed up and there is a ceremony to welcome him to the jungle village. The 223-strong Insect tribe worship the praying mantis, although it's the biggest cockroach MacIntyre has ever seen (and ever wishes to see again) that gives him a shock.

"Keep it well away from me," he says, at which point the tribesman holding it mischievously flicks it towards the visitor.

First up is a wild boar hunt. Waiting for the beast to show up, tribesmen chew beetlenut, the root of ginger dipped in powered seashells. It's a mild stimulant - MacIntyre compares it to three espressos - which is not only a pick-me-up but turns your teeth red.

He dives for clay to make pots, despite the river being infested with crocodiles and the Papua New Guinea version of the piranha - known affectionately, for reasons you'll probably guess, as the ball-cutter.

The modern world is threatening the traditional life of the Insect tribe. Plans to build a gold mine upriver could result in contamination of the river and the end of the crocodiles that provide food and income.

Then, there's the booze. A student from the village returned from the outside world not only with a diploma but the recipe for making moonshine from bananas and coconut water. They call it Steam and it's almost pure alcohol, as the expression of MacIntyre's face betrays when he drinks it.

This new spirit is brewed in the old spirit house, something he finds "horribly symbolic of how modern things are changing this tribe's way of life".

East 17 has changed a lot, although as one of them says, "We're not fluffy, we're rough. Know what I mean?".

These days, a decade after they were one of the biggest bands in Britain with 20 hits and 14 million record sales, they're no longer boys but behave like children as a foolhardy attempt is made to stage a comeback concert.

The rivalry with Take That has never gone away. One reason for the Walthamstow lads to get back together is a feeling that if Take That can do it, so can they.

As East 17 Reunited shows, this was an ambition too far. It was always going to be difficult after singer Brian Harvey was sacked for comments he made about ecstasy. He and Tony Mortimer haven't spoken for ten years.

East 17 members have enjoyed mixed fortunes since the break-up. For Harvey, there have been suicide attempts and a bizarre accident when he was run over by a car he was driving. John Hendy has returned to working as a roofer and Terry Coldwell occasionally works as a club DJ.

Mortimer seems to have come out of it best with his mock Tudor mansion and a fortune made from songwriting. But post-East 17 he's suffered from an eating disorder and agrophobia. He must also be insane to put up the money for an East 17 gig. Anyone could have told him that when he and Harvey get in the same room, there's going to be trouble.

The documentary follows their attempts at putting on a show. It's an object lesson in the pitfalls of fame and seeing the old aggravations revived compelling in the same way some people are fascinated by car crashes.