Pop Vultures

As part of Pop Vultures’ quest to be the preeminent transatlantic television and film blog with an avian-themed name, I am pleased to offer a guest post by London-based Plattie, of plattie.com.

I hate cars. OK, no, that’s not it. I don’t hate cars. I like that cars take me places I don’t want to walk. I like that they carry my shopping home from the supermarket. But that’s pretty much where my interest ends. I do not get excited about horse power or engine size. I do not enjoy the sensation of 0-60 in under 6 seconds. I rarely drive, and when I do, I still have to look at the pedals and mutter ‘ABC – Accelerator, Brake, Clutch’ to remind myself which one does what.

And yet, I never miss Top Gear. It’s one of only three shows set to record weekly on our DVR. (The other two are Californication and Studio 60, because hello, semi-naked David Duchovny and Bradley Whitford performing trademark Sorkin pedeconferences? Two clear DVR no-brainers.) I am the girl who, when asked what kind of car her boyfriend of several years drives, is only able to respond, ‘Ummm… it’s a grey one.’ A petrol head I most certainly am not. But Top Gear still holds me in its thrall and has done for years. It is so much more than just a show about cars. And if you have been avoiding this show on the grounds that it couldn’t possibly be of interest to you, I am here to insist that you give it a whirl next Sunday evening*. Allow me to explain.

Firstly, and most importantly, it is genuinely hilarious. The three presenters, Jeremy, Richard and James, are intelligent, articulate, and brilliantly self-deprecating. They recognise the inherent nerdiness of being obsessed with engines, noting ‘Unless [they] have been sorely misinformed, supermodels are powerless to resist a man with illuminated doorsills.’

They skirt as close to the boundaries of decency as BBC regulations will allow (Jeremy, after crashing into a hedge on a race to a strip-club in Slough, would have preferred ‘to end the evening in a rather different sort of bush.’) while still coming out with beautifully evocative descriptions (‘Driving most supercars is like trying to man-handle a cow up a back staircase. But this is like smearing honey into Keira Knightley.’).

And despite being forced to admit that every other country in the world, with the possible exception of, I don’t know, Lichtenstein, has a more impressive car industry than Britain, they are still gleefully condescending about foreigners: ‘The interesting thing about the French nation, I think, because they are essentially peasants and Communists, is that they are quite good at the fairly small and fairly simple car.’

The show always sees things through to their often illogical extremes. I can easily imagine pub conversations about whether it would be possible to turn a Reliant Robin into a space shuttle, or whether one could cross the Channel in a Nissan pick-up truck with an outboard motor on the back. On Top Gear, they actually put these things to the test.

It isn’t really about cars at all. It’s about wish-fulfillment, about having license to pull stupid pranks with your mates without the fear of being told off by your Mum. It is, at its heart, a show presented by three men who are clearly just having the time of their lives, relentlessly taking the piss out of each other, and coming up with more and more ludicrous, loosely-car-related questions to answer. Can you play conkers with caravans? Can a mini-cooper with a rocket strapped to the back of it perform a successful ski jump? It is joyous escapism at its finest. And you should watch it. Honestly, you’ll have fun.

And anyway, it’s Emmy award-winning, a point on which the Top Gear men are understandably proud:

Jeremy: I have an announcement to make. Top Gear, this… pokey motor show on BBC2, this week won - I’ve got it here - in New York, an Emmy! We’ve won an Emmy! Check it out!
Richard: Wow! Can I touch it?
Jeremy: What this is for, okay, is for the best non-scripted entertainment show that wasn’t made in America. That’s us!
Richard: Why didn’t you go and pick up the award from the ceremony?
Jeremy: Well, because I was writing the script for this week’s show.

What do you think?

*Top Gear airs at 8pm, Sundays, on BBC 2 in the UK, and at 8pm, Mondays, on BBC America in the USA.