Series 19, Episode 1 (January 2013)
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The referenced Telegraph article:
Top Gear Series 19, episode 1, review
Top Gear has had a year off - but itâs successfully back with the same old and wonderfully comforting routine, writes Alice Vincent.
10:22PM GMT 27 Jan 2013
As Jeremy Clarkson explained on Twitter, âfat people singingâ (Simon Cowell's X-Factor) have been in Top Gearâs way for the past year. So itâs ironic that the programmeâs return opened with the portly presenter screeching âweâre back!â with all the enthusiasm of a desperate X Factor finalist. This is where similarities between padded-out talent contests and Top Gear end, however - the free-wheeling motoring show was very nearly a full hour of witty entertainment.
Top Gearâs fans were deprived of a Christmas special after 2011âs festivity; an overgrown-schoolboy mission to India to promote the virtues of its former colonisers was officially complained about by the Indian High Commission. Jokes about terrorism, the Nazi regime and incest in tonightâs episode suggest Top Gearâs tone remained unchanged by such nay-sayers.
Also woefully reminiscent was the banter between Top Gear trio Richard Hammond, May and Clarkson - May was old, Hammondâs attire was laughable, Clarkson moaned about motorway signs. Rinse, repeat. A lively interjection from Homelandâs âStar In A Reasonably Priced Carâ Damian Lewis, who dropped names and manly accolades (playing at Old Trafford, surviving a motorcycle accident) with genuine humour was much-needed.
Top Gear thrived outside of its dingy studio. We saw Hammond yell theatrically inside a âsavageâ steampunk supercar: the Pagani Huayra is worth ÂŁ800,000 and a place at the top of the Power Lap Board - which set the bar high for the rest of the series.
Eagle-eyed fans will have seen Septemberâs leaked footage of May co-driving a Bentley continental GT Speed on a WRC rally stage. Tonightâs full feature was one of dramatic skies, dark forests and a tough lesson for him in car algebra (rally pacenotes: directions given in hasty anticipation to the driver). âEither get it right or shut upâ, growled Kris Meeke, Mayâs quietly, terrifyingly authoritative professional driver. Satisfyingly, the Bentleyâs four-wheel drive dealt well with a proper thrashing.
Clarkson debuted his self-created âP45â. The vehicle (it can hardly be called a car) aims to be smaller than the Peel P50 - a 1960s micromobile invented for city driving. Clarkson, just shy of two metres tall, was transformed into a grumpy Lego robot in the contraption, pootling along country lanes, bombing down dual carriageways and sneaking into shopping centres with slapstick hilarity.
Add in predictable asides at cyclists and gay men and Top Gear was the same as itâs always been - an hour of surprisingly comforting Dad Jokes and serious cars on a dark Sunday night.
