With their supercars, luminary homicides 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 rumors, the crass PR stunts, the fracas/ non-fracas with an employee at Stuttgart airport; its meter for Messrs Clarkson, May and Hammond to show us what theyve been up to. Succeed on then, what you got?
A lot of fund, thats abundantly clear from the opening sequence, fire in the California desert. But first weve got to get out of rainy old Blighty. So Jeremy is leaving a house, handing his pass in … got it, its supposed to be the BBC.( A slew of this first episode seems to be aimed at his former hire if not quite wind the window down and demonstrating a created midriff digit, then at least drawing up at the flares and looking over smugly: ha, check out my big-hearted plan .) Now hes at international airports, checking in , no fracases this time, he manages to catch the flight to Los Angeles, where he picks up his rental car a muscly Mustang.
On the open street, eventually free, hes joined by the other two, James and Hammond( sorry but I dont do first names with him) in same gondolas; cherry-red, white and off-color. Crossing the desert, they hook up with a Mad Max convoy of cars and trucks and bikes, heading to a stage where the Hothouse Heyday are playing I Can Ascertain Clearly Now( Gone are the dark glooms 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, flaming and a squadron of planes running over. It is undeniably, gloriously cinematic, a bright beautiful spectacle.