Would Top Gear survive without Jeremy Clarkson?
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Version 0 of 1. Boyd Hilton, TV editor, Heat magazineWhenever I watch Top Gear I end up thinking how brilliant the little films are in which the presenters race against each other against a lush backdrop, all stylishly filmed and cunningly edited. What the blokes (and blokes they most certainly are) actually say during these bits, and indeed the rest of the programme, goes in one ear and out the other. It’s sometimes mildly amusing, occasionally trying hard to be “politically incorrect” or more often than not low-level, down-to-earth, guys-joshing-with-guys stuff you’d hear down any pub of a Sunday night. James May, Richard Hammond and the newly suspended Jeremy Clarkson have never seemed particularly able to summon up a genuinely original joke or especially funny observation and yet they’ve turned Top Gear into one of the biggest TV shows in the world, and somehow created their own industry built around their faux-hilarious “bantz”. Now the show is in the news again, after myriad controversies of recent years, because Clarkson is alleged to have had a “fracas” with a producer over a late food delivery, it seems to me more than anything a reminder of the utter mystery of this pop-culture phenomenon. My preference: let Clarkson and his mates go (to start “Another Gear” on ITV?) and bring in some actually clever and funny people like Steve Coogan, Rob Brydon and maybe even – shock horror! – a woman like Sue Perkins, who did a great job in BBC2’s World’s Most Dangerous Roads programme. Which, incidentally, was more interesting than most episodes of Top Gear. Michael Hogan, TV and entertainments writerMuch as it pains me to say it, fracas-prone Top Gear tyrant Clarkson is a televisual genius. Together with exec-producer Andy Wilman, the unseen fourth member of the team, Clarkson masterminded its staggeringly successful reinvention 13 years ago from a sober motoring review show into a throbbing, shouty, shiny, engine-revving entertainment monster. From the stunts to the sense of “humour”, the show is made in his paunchily provocative image. Carrying on without him would be like The Sopranos without Tony, or Taggart after Taggart died, or Queen fronted by Adam Lambert off American Idol. Why should we want it to splutter on anyway? With its petrolhead politics, steadfast refusal to cover electric or eco-friendly cars and 70s throwback LOLZ, Top Gear is already outmoded. Without its charismatic captain to keep it afloat, it will sink like a caravan dropped off a cliff. Remember Fifth Gear on Channel 5? It was like watching a tuneless tribute act. Watered-down versions don’t work. You have to do it with dad-jeaned, grey-haired gusto, “go full Clarkson”, or not at all. Even though Jezza the Hutt is a bullying man-child with all the sophisticated wit of a drunk Ukip councillor – the male Katie Hopkins, if you will – he’s very good at what he does. He IS Top Gear. Without him, they might as well give up and drive home, muttering bitterly to themselves like Alan Partridge. Especially that annoying little sniggery one who’s not even a real hamster. BH Well, Clarkson IS Top Gear in its current blokeish, tiresomely anti-PC, Ukip-esque guise, but as you correctly point out, it’s a totally outmoded show. Why not let him and his guffawing, establishment mates move to whatever channel throws the most money at them, and let the BBC reinvent Top Gear again? This isn’t The Sopranos or even Taggart. The analogy I’d use is Countryfile, a show watched by more people than Top Gear, and one that has successfully turned itself into a massive Sunday prime-time TV phenomenon, yet without resorting to crass small-mindedness and safe appeals to the prejudices of posh, white, middle-aged blokes. The reason that Channel 5 imitation didn’t work was because it was just that: a pale Z-list version with the same tired mind-set. And it was on Channel 5. This is an opportunity for the BBC to let its motoring magazine show broaden its scope and be of some appeal to the more tolerant of viewers, who might actually be interested in an electric car. Clarkson will find another home for his shtick if the BBC has to get rid of him. I look forward to the new, funnier, smarter, better Top Gear with beautiful films of Alan Partridge pootling around in a nice Lexus. MH Ah, the Lexus; plural: Lexi. The Japanese Mercedes. Team with a Daily Mail and a spritz of Lynx Voodoo. Partridge-isms aside, Boyd, I simply can’t picture Top Gear being a success in a post-Clarkson era. Whoever takes over would be filling some big, blustery boots, rather like Sir Alex Ferguson’s successors at Manchester United. And the fans would be just as hard to win round. As we’ve seen this week, Top Gear devotees love to mobilise, so they’d doubtless boycott a Clarkson-free iteration and instead migrate to wherever their braying, bubble-permed, big… pause-loving leader went next. It’s a bit like Jonathan Ross five years ago. A motor-mouthed TV presenter goes too far, gets suspended from the BBC and ends up defecting to ITV, where his show’s a shadow of its former self. The Beeb moved on, replaced him with a fresher chat format fronted by Graham Norton and haven’t looked back since. I realise Top Gear is a huge earner and the BBC will be desperate not to slaughter the cash cow, but without Clarkson there is no cow, just a dog painted black-and-white. Why let ratings plummet and the show limp on? Better to start afresh and design a truly modern motoring show that we can be proud of, rather than faintly embarrassed by. BH A truly modern motoring show sounds good. I know, let’s call it Top Gear. It’s not like the current format was feeling particularly fresh and vital anyway. Way back in 2009, your hero Andy Wilman admitted: “We’ve now got the presenters playing to their TV cartoon characters a bit too much.” I’m not convinced he’s found a magical way to stop that happening. As you explained, the show existed before Wilman, Clarkson and his mates came along, and could easily carry on after they’ve gone (to another channel). It’s just a TV show. The Jezza-worshipping will carry on elsewhere. A new Top Gear could be a symbolic triumph of decency over the prejudiced mob. Maybe Mark Kermode of this very parish and his “wittertainment” colleague Simon Mayo could take over. They’ve proved over the years that you can have freewheeling repartee without resorting to base chauvinism and liberal-baiting, and they have a massive following. I’ve no idea if they’re even vaguely interested in cars, though. MH I’m not sure if Mr Kermode likes cars but he didn’t like the Pixar film Cars. Hope that helps. Much as I love the idea of decency triumphing over the pitchfork-waving petrolhead posse, I fear the Top Gear “brand” is just too tied up with Clarkson to stand a chance on its own. Without its melty-faced figurehead, the aforementioned angry mob would rip any attempt to continue their beloved show to shreds. Imagine a new-look Top Gear fronted by, ooh, Piers Morgan, Chris Evans and Adrian Chiles. When you’ve stopped screaming, gouging out your eyes and scrubbing your mind with bleach, you’ll realise the franchise is on the last train to Clarksonville. If the BBC aren’t going to let their overgrown school bully off the naughty step and he flounces off into the withered, grasping arms of Rupert Murdoch, call time on Top Gear. It’s a rubbish title anyway, except perhaps for a recreational-drug review show. What can we call our all-new motoring programme instead? Hmm… how about The Great British Brake-Off? |