by Martin Roach
Most notably, May built an entire full-size house from Lego in August 2009 (he was a self-confessed ‘Lego fiend’ as a child). The location was Denbies Wine Estate in Surrey and it was estimated that he used 3.2 million bricks to complete the building. Such was his popularity by this point that nearly 3,000 people turned up to see him start the build. Sadly, although Lego themselves hoped to move the house, brick by plastic brick, to their flagship theme park near Windsor, the cost of dismantling and rebuilding was simply uneconomic at £50,000 – even with 1,000 volunteers. James and the Top Gear website tried to find a buyer for the house, alas to no avail. A month later, the Lego building was demolished after the wine estate reluctantly had to reacquire the land for its next harvest. It later transpired that a Lego cat, built by a fan and called Fusker in honour of May’s own pet, had been stolen from the house by persons unknown.
Sadly, James’s attempt to break the longest model railway record failed amid claims that vandals and thieves had tampered with the 10-mile track. It was to stretch from Barnstaple to Bideford in Devon but was broken up in places by thieves and coins dropped on the line destroyed the special battery, which was later stolen.
May explained to the Daily Mail that from the age of five he had wanted to fly a Spitfire and eventually he did just that for the episode where he built the life-size Airfix replica. Surprisingly, he found the experience of flying the actual World War II legend unrewarding: the cockpit smelt of oil and dust and he was freezing. Although he said that he much preferred the staggering technology of the Eurofighter, this is a man who admits to a blind spot for electronic technology: he once took his annoying mobile phone into a field and shot it with a Beretta shotgun: ‘If technology annoys you, I highly recommend shooting it to death. It’s very cleansing. I’ve been tempted to shoot the dashboards of many cars.’
Elsewhere, James has travelled alongside wine connoisseur Oz Clarke for Oz and James’s Big Wine Adventure: as a confirmed bitter drinker the experience seismically changed his habits and he admits to often phoning Clarke for advice when he’s standing in the supermarket wine aisle. It was during one such wine outing with Clarke that May’s concert-standard musicianship was briefly exhibited, albeit on the lowly recorder with a troupe of Morris dancers!
Weirdly, James has written one jingle for a major car manufacturer (he is contracted not to say which one), which he composed on a Casio keyboard, waltz-style. On Top Gear, his musical tastes are often ridiculed and he certainly hasn’t helped himself: after spending several days recording the engine notes of various cars, he played back his awful, atonal version of the show’s theme tune on a small ghetto-blaster in the studio to guffaws from both colleagues and audience alike.
He has also presented programmes about the moon landings, sharks, great inventions and science fiction being implemented in real life. Like Hammond and Clarkson, James has also written several very popular books although unlike his co-stars, he has yet to enjoy a No. 1 bestseller.
He says that although he occasionally watches his own performances he prefers not to do too much of this as ‘it’s painful’ and he is eager not to be over-exposed on TV, telling the Independent: ‘I do try to resist the urge to become a tart. I’ve never wanted to be on television for the sake of it, I suppose because I’m not one of life’s natural presenters – I’m not an actor. If my frock isn’t blown up by a particular idea, I do turn it down.’ The very same journalist reported that May’s persona in the flesh was so laid-back, ‘he appears forever on the brink of yawning.’ Of course, this is a caricature just as Clarkson’s motor-mouth persona is not how he lives 24/7, but that’s the nature of blipvert modern TV: it’s all about soundbites, snapshots, quick fixes.
James May is lower down the ‘Weird Crushes’ rankings than Richard Hammond, but still receives more than his fair share of love letters, despite the loud shirts with pictures of jet fighters on them. Some fans have routed him out at his local pub, leaving gifts, albeit not panties or bras but fruitcakes, a smoked haddock, sweets and spam. His Lord Byron-esque shaggy locks and ramshackle look are a teenage dream he can now indulge. Oddly, when he first joined Top Gear, May was asked if he’d mind trimming his shaggy barnet but the haircut is now so synonymous with his TV image that the good folk at the BBC ask him not to cut it off.
In fact, James May is perhaps something of a dark horse in the Top Gear stable. Although his fellow presenters may have a more obvious profile, May’s quiet, laconic style and passionate interest in his subject matter has made him what the Independent calls, ‘the most in-demand presenter on British television.’
CHAPTER 16
Jeremy Clarkson, Part III
Like his two colleagues on Top Gear, Jeremy Clarkson’s profile has seen him work on a proliferation of other TV shows, as well as numerous articles, several hugely popular DVDs and a dazzling array of best-selling books. He has published many bestsellers, with sales of several of them running into the hundreds of thousands. In fact, his success in the book world has even led some literary observers to credit Jezza with increasing literacy among the young male population, so popular are his titles with the younger reader’s market.
Clarkson’s non-Top Gear TV work is similarly prolific and equally successful. His aforementioned chat show ran across 27 half-hour episodes between November 1998 and December 2000 and saw him interview a variety of famous faces from the music, showbiz and political worlds. However, perhaps not surprisingly, the series is best remembered for controversy, most obviously when he offended pretty much every Welsh person on the planet (and a few Scots for good measure). During one show, he put a plastic map of Wales in a microwave and then proceeded to incinerate the entire country, only pausing to add that he hadn’t put Scotland in there, ‘because it wouldn’t fit.’
Another early diversion from Top Gear came as the presenter of the UK version of BBC’s Robot Wars and we have already talked about Jeremy Clarkson’s Motorworld and Jeremy Clarkson Meets The Neighbours. Other shows have included Jeremy Clarkson’s Car Years for BBC2, but he also frequently digresses into another passion in his life – engineering. Having been awarded that meringue-tainted honorary degree by Oxford Brookes University for his long-standing support of engineering, Clarkson has also showcased the same on such programmes as BBC2’s Inventions That Changed The World, featuring fascinating studies of the gun, computer, telephone and television, among others.
Like his fellow presenters, Clarkson is a poplar chat show-guest and he’s even taken effortlessly to the Have I Got News For You hot seat during the period of rotating hosts, the programme having dismissed regular host Angus Deayton in October 2002. And most appropriately of all, Jezza has made many hilarious contributions to the Grumpy Old Men BBC2 TV series. Perhaps reflecting his political interests which we noted earlier, he’s even been a consummate and cerebral guest on BBC1’s Question Time. By 2007, despite his many detractors and the countless headaches he causes the BBC, Clarkson’s long-standing, varied and prolific career was recognised at the prestigious National Television Awards with a ‘Special Recognition Award’.
Of course, such a lengthy TV career and sustained high profile means that Jeremy Clarkson – whether he likes to think so or not – makes an impression on the nation’s TV-watching population. So we have what is termed ‘The Clarkson Effect’. This was first witnessed with something as superficial as his choice of trousers. His penchant for wearing blue Levis was attributed by some to a fall in sales of that particular item, the theory being that no one with any fashion sense would want to be seen wearing the same clothes as the presenter. Lorna Martin, features editor at the fashion trade magazine Draper’s Record has said: ‘Denim was in a big slump. Jeremy Clarkson personified the problem and became legendary.’ Why spend millions of dollars on male models to make grainy black-and-white adverts as art statements when a ten-minute clip of Clarkson leaning against a Vauxhall, tutting, can undo all the hard work? Although this is harsh, it’s not particularly something which Jeremy h
imself loses any sleep over.
Indeed, he makes no claim to be a fashion guru. His dress sense is, at best, questionable. People have tried to improve Clarkson’s style, such as the ever-tactile Trinny and Susannah, who attempted to give him a makeover on a celebrity version of What Not To Wear. Previously they had derided his fashion sense as that of ‘a market trader’ and invited him onto their show as a potential candidate for the ‘Worst Dressed’ award. Perhaps not entirely surprisingly, their valiant efforts to re-style Clarkson failed miserably and he went so far as to state he’d rather eat his own hair than go back on the programme.
When the fashionista presenters appeared on Top Gear as the ‘Stars in a Reasonably Priced Car’ two years later, Clarkson said it was payback time! He pointed out that he had previously been voted the sixth worst dressed celebrity but after appearing on their show he’d been ‘promoted’ to second worst dressed famous face, only behind Graham Norton. Trinny and Susannah retaliated and pointed out that girls’ attitudes to clothes were like men’s to cars – it was all about impressing people so they laughed at Jeremy’s Ford GT40, dismissing it as the equivalent of a floral dress midlife crisis. At times there seemed to be a genuine frisson of tension in the studio.
But getting back to The Clarkson Effect in regard to fashion, it is unlikely that the demise of Levis sales was his fault alone but you can see where the theory comes from. When he tested the brutal Koenigsegg CCX, given the beauty of the car he was trying out at the time, Jeremy’s choice of clothes for this piece truly proves that he appears to have pretty much no interest in fashion. He stood next to one of the most desirable cars ever made in a particularly horrid combination of the infamous light blue jeans and a very worn-out Che Guevara T-shirt.
Some see The Clarkson Effect in more serious tones. As we have seen, almost universally the environmentalists and climate campaigners, Transport 2000, the motor industry workers and safety campaigners abhor some of Clarkson’s comments and attitudes because in their opinion his massive public profile and popularity make him by default a role model. Like footballers, sportsmen and rock stars, many will argue that whether Clarkson likes it or not, his actions and opinions have a deep impact on large chunks of the population. Campaigner Emily Armistead of Greenpeace does not accept that his remarks have no consequence: ‘Clarkson is a problem because he has represented some climate-sceptic views and for someone to be on national television saying [such things] is quite alarming.’
It’s a charge Clarkson vehemently denies; he refutes that he is a role model and plays down the impact of his rants. He believes people have minds of their own and are not so easily led. Perhaps conflictingly, following the aftermath of the banana-meringue-in-the-face incident, Clarkson also said this: ‘I want to be the champion of ordinary people – who seem to be lectured to all the time. Look, there are two sides to the argument. I do listen, constantly, to their side of the argument. And every time they’re presented with my side, they shove pies in my face.’ He went on to say, with a cheeky grin, no doubt: ‘They get together to discuss things, these people, eating their nuclear-free peace nibbles, and they’re just never exposed to the other side of the argument …’
Even his employer, the BBC, has gone on record to state that he is ‘not a man to give a considered opinion.’ Clarkson himself has been quoted saying, ‘I don’t have any influence over what people do … Top Gear is just fluff. It’s just entertainment – people don’t listen to me.’ Indeed, it’s a position he takes up with some regularity: ‘Even if I thought for a moment that anyone paid any attention to anything I say – and I have figures to prove that they don’t’ – I’m sorry, I’m not employed to think one thing and say something else.’ The figures he refers to are car sales volumes, as former producer Jon Bentley explains: ‘Jeremy has always said we did a wonderful review of the Renault GTA and they sold about three (well, actually more, but not many more). Then we did a terrible review of the Toyota Corolla, likening it to a washing machine, and that went on to sell millions.’ (And this despite the manufacturer’s refusal to send any more cars to Top Gear for some time). Similarly, the Ford Orion was one of that company’s best-selling models ever, even though Clarkson repeatedly berated it. There may be some truth in this but there is, as ever, another viewpoint in relation to the power of Top Gear (rather than Clarkson personally): ‘I’m sure we did often have an influence,’ ponders Bentley. ‘Particularly with some of Quentin’s best used car pieces that talked positively about a used car bargain. There was the phrase that went round the trade: “Top Gear, Thursday, Top Price Saturday.”’ Fast-forward several years and Clarkson now frequently makes the Top 100 lists of Britain’s most influential and powerful media figures.
On an episode of Top Gear in 2002, Clarkson made some comments about testing cars around Wales, saying the country was largely empty because no one wants to live there (he’s made similar remarks about driving through ‘boring’ Lincolnshire). Predictably the BBC were bombarded with complaints that he was encouraging speeding, including one letter from the Clwyd West AM Alun Pugh written to BBC Director-General Greg Dyke; Clarkson flatly denied his remarks had encouraged fast driving and a BBC spokesman insisted such suggestions were ‘nonsense’. The following week, a man in Flintshire was caught speeding at 137mph and JC’s words were picked up on by the media covering the police action. However, North Wales Police denied there had been a clampdown on motorists since Clarkson’s comments on the programme.
There are other, even more simplistic examples of his influence. For instance, he pretty much put the phrase ‘flappy-paddle gearbox’ into the lexicon. Ask yourself this: what is that type of gear-changing system actually called? Exactly, it’s a flappy paddle …
But let’s not forget, his influence is not necessarily always a bad thing. When Clarkson became a patron of Help For Heroes, the charity later received a cheque from an anonymous donor for £50 with the message, ‘Clarkson made us do it’. The campaign organiser was delighted: ‘When he put his weight behind us, it became acceptable to support the soldiers without implying that you were necessarily supporting the war.’ Over the years, Jeremy has helped the charity prodigiously.
Unfortunately, whatever he says to try and diffuse his words and avoid controversy, there will always be people who detest The Clarkson Effect. Due to his proliferation of negative comments about Norfolk, some residents of that county have started a ‘We Hate Jeremy Clarkson’ club.
Despite his extremely high profile, away from our screens Jeremy Clarkson is a relatively private family man. Save for what scant biographical information we have about Clarkson and his own newspaper columns too, there is a relatively modest amount of material on him in the public domain. If you strip away all the quotes, the controversies, the programmes and so on, he is essentially a private person. He usually refuses interviews, even when his co-presenters Richard Hammond and James May have already agreed to them.
He met his wife, Frances Cain, when she was working as a recruitment consultant (she is now his long-standing manager, highly respected within the industry). ‘We had mutual friends and ended up in the same restaurant one night,’ Frances told www.timesonline.co.uk. ‘We had an argument about whether it was better to be a man than a woman.’ The chemistry was ignited and they’ve been together since, marrying in May 1993.
Frances is the daughter of the Victoria Cross hero Robert Henry Cain. A VC is the highest medal for gallantry awarded to British and Commonwealth forces and was given to Cain in commemoration of his valour in the Battle of Arnhem. Although Frances’ father died of cancer in 1974, long before Clarkson married his daughter, both are extremely proud of Cain’s bravery and in 2003, Jeremy presented a BBC documentary on his father-in-law and fellow VC-winners. In October 2005, he visited the British troops stationed in Iraq; he has also written and then presented a documentary about World War II’s Operation Chariot, Greatest Raid of All-Time.
The family home is a beautiful manor house near the idyllic Cotsw
olds market town of Chipping Norton and Clarkson is currently the town’s most famous resident. In 1987, comedy genius Ronnie Barker retired from TV to Chipping Norton and ran an antiques shop called The Emporium. Previously, The Who’s Keith Moon owned the Crown & Cushion Hotel in the High Street. Clarkson once told the tale of an elderly Rover driver who had been stationary for 15 years, confused by the complicated double roundabout in the town centre.
In Series 6, the Top Gear team actually filmed in Chipping Norton for a spoof feature about Jeremy helping the local community. It was reported his presence had been requested by the Mayor to open a refurbished open-air swimming pool. Clarkson said he was delighted to help as his own children had learnt to swim in that very pool (he also takes a dig at Hammond, saying he’ll open anything, even a crime scene). Jeremy duly glided up in a Mark 1 Rolls-Royce Silver Shadow from 1976, chosen in honour of the various rock stars frequenting the sedate town during that decade of excess. However, the car had seen better days – like many of the worn-out old rockers of yesteryear – and Clarkson carried out some ad-hoc repairs, including repainting the wheel arch with a silver paint that bore no apparent resemblance to the original colour. For some bizarre reason, he also ended up eating some ultra-expensive American car wax he’d been given.
The climax came when Jeremy arrived at the ‘ceremony’ to open the pool, drove straight through a fence and plunged the Roller straight into the swimming pool, à la Keith Moon. It was a great example of a really silly Top Gear moment – there was no real point, no real car review, no big message or technological insight, just a bit of fun in Clarkson’s home town.