With their supercars, celebrity carnages and Eboladrome, Jeremy Clarkson, James May and Richard Hammond prove they can still make a spectacle and keep the petrolheads happy
Enough of the secrets and hearsays, the crass PR stunts, the fracas/ non-fracas with an employee at Stuttgart airport; its duration for Messrs Clarkson, May and Hammond to show us what theyve been up to. Enter on then, what you got?
A lot of fund, thats abundantly clear from the opening sequence, film in the California desert. But first weve “ve gotta get out of” rainy old-fashioned Blighty. So Jeremy is leaving a build, handing his pass in … got it, its supposed to be the BBC.( A slew of this first chapter seems to be aimed at his former hire if not quite wind the window down and throwing a created middle paw, then at least plucking up at the lights and ogling over smugly: ha, check out my big budget .) Now hes at the airport, checking in , no fracases this time, he manages to catch the flight to Los Angeles, where he picks up his rental automobile a muscly Mustang.
On the open road, eventually free, hes joined by the other two, James and Hammond( sorry but I dont do first name with him) in similar automobiles; ruby-red, grey and blue-blooded. Bridging the desert, they hook up with a Mad Max convoy of cars and trucks and bikes, heading to a stagecoach where the Hothouse Flowers are playing I Can Watch Clearly Now( Gone are the dark clouds that had me blind another delve there ). Its like Burning Man; actually they call it Igniting Van because there is one, plus a pirate ship, volley and a squadron of airplanes hovering over. It is undeniably, gloriously cinematic, a bright beautiful sight.