Men behaving nicely – this is Top Gear for millennials
There were worrying whispers that the new-look Top Gear (BBC Two, Sunday) would be more touchy-feely than its pub-boorish previous incarnations. Judging by the launch episode, any petrolheads allergic to cuddles and scented candles need not have fretted. Insults flew. Pranks were played. Top Gear still had stubble on its chin and a glint in its eye.
Our debutants on the starting grid were a pair of strapping Lancastrian lads: comedian Paddy Mcguinness and cricket hero Andrew “Freddie” Flintoff. They were joined by motoring journalist and racing driver Chris Harris, sole survivor from the previous line-up. Top Gear might have miles on the clock, but this trio injected some va-va-voom. Their chemistry was immediate, their camaraderie warm.
Their opening road trip saw them take the first cars they’d ever owned – Harris’s Mini, Mcguinness’s Ford Escort and, incongruously, Flintoff ’s Porsche – to Ethiopia to test their endurance in searing heat. Cue misty-eyed reminiscing about driving tests and teenage scrapes. The scenery was stunning, albeit less so when Flintoff ended up in his underpants.
Back on the test track, Harris put Ferrari and Mclaren supercars
through their paces. It was as handsomely shot and pumpingly soundtracked as ever, but here his geekiness began to grate. Harris might lend experience (his co-hosts are merely enthusiasts), but it was like being cornered by your boring neighbour at a barbecue.
There were signs of a more inclusive and, dare I say, more millennial tone to the new show. The travelogue was less a race, more a convoy. When Flintoff ’s Porsche Boxster broke down (served the flash git right), the others didn’t crow and speed off into the distance, they stopped and towed him.
They still relentlessly poked fun at each other – with most digs directed at Harris’s comparatively diminutive stature – but the banter was affectionate and, crucially, not at the expense of foreigners, homosexuals or cyclists (let alone foreign homosexual cyclists). This trio smelt of craft ale, moisturiser and Acqua di Parma, rather than bitter, engine oil and Old Spice.
Ever since the three amigos – James May, Jeremy Clarkson and Richard Hammond – departed, the show has careered from one crisis to the next. The Chris Evans era was a disaster. Casting became a revolving door. Ratings dipped.
Thankfully, this reconditioned vehicle roared out of the garage. Top Gear felt freewheeling and unpredictable again. I found a grin spreading across my face and even laughed aloud. Flintoff and Mcguinness promise to make this floundering franchise the best it’s been since the Clarkson era.
There was mid-series misery for Gentleman Jack (BBC One, Sunday), as Anne Lister (Suranne Jones) was left broken-hearted and bloody-nosed.
Recently widowed Reverend Thomas Ainsworth (Brendan Patricks) set his sights on Lister’s lover, Ann Walker (Sophie Rundle). Having learned that he’d previously taken advantage of Walker, however, Lister was having none of it.
Some see this series as a sapphic spin on Poldark; others, “Fleabag in a bonnet” for its conspiratorial looks to camera. Here, it was more like a less polite Pride & Prejudice. Rather than Lizzie Bennet’s subtle skewering of Mr Collins, Lister took a direct route. “If you weren’t so insignificant, I would horsewhip you black-andblue,” she snarled at the simpering clergyman.
Having seen off her romantic rival, Lister proposed marriage. However, Walker declined after her interfering family told her that it was “unnatural”.
Jones shone as the complex, charismatic Lister, whether vigorously striding around the Halifax countryside as a woman on a mouldbreaking mission, or in the more intimate moments as a woman who merely wanted to find love. Surely Jones is a Bafta nominee-in-waiting?
Lister might have been able to stare down a wimpish priest, but she met her match in the closing scene of this fifth episode, when dastardly mining magnate Christopher Rawson (Vincent Franklin) sent a thug to intimidate her. As Lister picked her top hat out of the dirt and dabbed her wounds, her face hardened with resolve.
Something tells me Rawson will get his comeuppance and Lister will get her woman. I can’t wait to witness both. Between them, Jones and writer Sally Wainwright have created a heroine to root for.
Top Gear ★★★★ Gentleman Jack ★★★★