Top Gear (2002–…): Season 21, Episode 1 - Episode #21.1 - full transcript

Jermy, James and Richard set out to prove that the old 'classic' hatchbacks of their time are better than the modern equivalents through a series of challenges while Hugh Bonneville stars in the reasonably priced car.

Thanks, everybody, thank you.

Hello, good evening.

Thank you so much.

We're back!

We have returned.

We've returned with an all-new
series, and it is a cracker.

We have got a review
of the Mk7 Volkswagen Golf,

we've an extended report
of the 900cc Dacia Sandero,

James has done that. It's very long.

We've a piece on bicycles,
we've something on the stresses

of long-distance lorry driving...

..and the rest of it
sort of looks like this.

They should have called this the

Come on, little Alfa.

We have to beat him.

You want a race?
I'll give you a race!

Oh, God. My doves have escaped.


Just have my heated seat set
to the first position.

Morning. Sorry.

The town in question is called...


Whoa! Ha-ha-ha!


'Newsnight now, on BBC TWO...'

All that is to come.

But first, there has been,
I'm afraid, a bit of a row
in the office.

You see, we think
that the current crop
of hot hatchbacks are very good,

however, we say they're not as good
as the hot hatchbacks

you could buy in the '80s
or the '90s.

Well, they're not, are they?
No, exactly, but our producers,
who are very young

and wander around with
the top of their underpants

showing at the back of their

say that we are talking nonsense.

Yeah, so, to sort it all out,
they told us to go and buy

three old hot hatches,
whilst they would devise

a series of humiliating challenges.

Hmm! Hmm!

The meeting point
was a car park in Droitwich,

and I was the first to arrive.

This is a Volkswagen Golf GTI -

the standard-bearer,
the benchmark, the daddy...

And think about it - a modern-day
GTI would cost you £27,000.

This was just 800 quid.
I mean, 800 quid! For a Golf GTI!

It's only done 172,000 miles,
and at just 25 years old it's...

Oh, there's James!

Oh, God. That was a handbrake turn,
right there, ladies and gentlemen.



XR2i, 16 valve.

16 valve? Oh, yes.

See, I've gone for the coveted Mk2
eight-valve model.

Eight valve? Eight valve.


Oh, the comedy stickers.

The thing is, James, what you have
to remember is,

you know when you look at a car,

how has it been treated?
Who's owned it?

I looked at these stickers,

the non-standard alloy wheels,

and I suspect this has been slammed.

It does look like it's been
slammed. It's been lowered.

So you add those things together,

and I've deduced it was probably
owned by...a parish priest?

June Whitfield, probably.
It's funny you should say that,

because I employ a similar tactic
when I'm buying a car, so I looked

at things like - it has very
high-specification after-market

brake pads. Has it? Which means it
was somebody

interested in safety, not speed.
Yes. And also,

they've done things like left
the jacking point exposed,

so you spend less time exposed to
danger if you have to change

your wheel on the hard shoulder.

800 quid. 750 quid.

You see, we've been clever,
we have been wise.

Sadly, our discussion
was curtailed,

because Hammond then arrived.

And he hadn't been wise at all.

Is that...?

No. No. No.

Nova SRi. No. This is fun, isn't it?
I'm loving my day so far.

Let me talk you through it -
1.4-litre multi-point fuel injection,

82 brake horsepower. Uh-huh.

This is light, and nippy and quick.

This was the clever choice in its
day. Was it? Yeah. It was.

Hammond... I love...
Hammond, Hammond, Hammond, Hammond.

Yeah? This has spent more time on its
roof than it has on its wheels.

All Novas are driven by yobbos
who turn them over.

I must admit... Because it's not
just this door that doesn't match.

That one was white.

I don't think there's a ditch
in Essex that this hasn't visited.

But it's still working. These are
very desirable. Are they?

How much was it? 700 quid.

Not that anyone ever actually
had to buy a Vauxhall Nova -

it was much easier to steal one.

Nobody's to watch this if you're
a car thief. Don't watch this.

You have the keys. I have the keys.

I'm going to remove the hazard
warning light switch, OK?

Yep. I'm now going to pop it
back in again, upside down.

And lo and behold, the ignition
comes on.

Now it's just a question of, um...


And there we are.

And I've got the key!

'As I was finishing my

'I received a message.'

I've got a text.
Oh, it's from the producers. Eh?

Yeah, it's the first
of the challenges.

What happened to the gold envelope?

He's a teenager.

That would mean using a pen.

Oh, he wouldn't have seen one
of those. No, he wouldn't. Anyway...

Hang on. I don't know what it says.
Because you need your glasses?

Oh, dear. I'm old!

It says, "The main reason for buying
a hot hatchback is speed.

"You will therefore do a performance
test at the Shelsley Walsh
Hill Climb

"in your crocks of ship."


Ship. I think there's been some
auto-correction. Yes.

Right... Soldier on.

Oh, bloody hell.

Have you got an alarm?

1989? They didn't have alarms,
so everybody put after-market alarms

on them, which don't work. Ever.

Oh, shut up!

I'd like to be laughing
about them and their alarms,

but I've just spotted
something which is...

Well, everything got stolen
in the '80s,

so they'd engrave the reg number on
the glass, and on the tailgate,

I can't help but notice
that this registration number

isn't the same as this
registration number,

which means
it's not the original tailgate.

I thought that was the only original
panel on it.

On the drive to the Hill Climb,

we have the chance to get
acquainted with our cars.

Oh, I love my little Nova.
It's all about simplicity, lightness.

This has nothing on it that
you don't need.

Door mirrors, manual.
Windows, manual.

There isn't even a window winder
on the passenger side,

because it's dropped off.
How simple and light is that?

Since we're alone, viewers, and
it's traditional for me to be honest

at this point, I will say that
the car feels a little careworn.

The driver's seat smells funny,
the fuel gauge doesn't work

all the time, and neither does
the temperature gauge.

The radio only comes out
of one speaker.

The clutch judders.
The wheels wobble.

There are a lot of knocks
and rattles.

Amazing, really,
because it's only done 23,000 miles.

Let me do a systems check and make
sure all the equipment is working.

Heated rear window, yep.

Ashtray, yep.

Good, that's that done.

Third gear.

That G-force is nearly
tearing my face off!

We were so brave in the '80s.

We were brave and we were strong,
because we had no power steering.

We didn't go to a gym -
we just went for a drive.

That would build up a sweat.

Many power-steering-less
miles later...

God, I stink.

..we arrived at the terrifying
Shelsley Walsh Hill Climb.

Germany has the Nurburgring, America
has Pikes Peak - we have this.

It's more than half a mile long,
and at the bottom of this fearsome

ribbon of tarmac, we were given
more details of our challenge.

"A modern Seat Ibiza Cupre

"will now go up the Hill Climb

"then you must try to beat its

Seat Cupre? Yeah.
That's fast, is it?

Hang on, who's going to be
driving the Seat?

It's not the Stig, is it? No. No,
it's not the Stig.

It's the Stig's teenage cousin.

Look at the size of it!
I know. It's a whale.

Might as well try and drive up there
in that barn.

With the traditional Hill Climb
chock holding the Seat in place,

Teenage Stig was
ready for the off.


What a dreary spectacle.

Doesn't have that nimble, light,

tight, frenzied feel
of a proper hot hatch.


'The Stig's teenage
cousin did it in 40.50.'

What, to do 0.6 of a mile?
I shall halve it.

As the Golf had the most power,
we agreed it should go first.

Hold on, I'm just going to shut my

There it is.

Three, two, one.

That was all wheel-spin. That's
already quicker, look at that.

Double declutch into second.
A pheasant!

Ooh! That was close.


112 of the finest German horsepower
hurling me up this hill.

60mph as we cross the line.


Next it was James' turn, in the XR2.

Three, two, one, go!

You bastard!

Nice start(!)

At speed, the XR2's 20-year-old
steering really came into its own.

Oh, God.

He's bought a dog.
He has bought an appalling dog.


This is terrible.

More worryingly, on the way
back down, a marshal handed me back

some of my car.

That is a bolt, obviously.

But for what?

As I pondered on that,

Jeremy prepared
the course for Hammond's Nova.

Hammond. I have never seen a man
suit a car more than that.

Three, two, one!


That's some wheel-spin.

There are some people who look like
their dogs. There are one or two

people who look like their cars,
and, yeah... Little... Nova drivers.

Everything, now.
Come on, unleash the lot.

Across the line!

And now, back down!

Oh, yeah.

Predictably, Hammond had binned it.

Oh, my God. No!

How the hell did you get it there?

Well, I was coming down here, and...
Oh, hang on, it's...

You have righted it.
You have righted it.

Look, he's actually beaming
because you stuffed your...

Well, you can tell your mates, can't
you? In the ditch.

And it's a complete roll now.

Cos this was the thing in the '80s -
you put your car in a ditch,

and you did, and you found it funny.

Do you realise if Constable
had lived today, he would have

painted that. It would have been
called the HEY, WAYNE.

Very good.

As the marshals recovered
the Nova, we were given the results.

What was the Stig? 40... 40.5.
Right. I was...


May, perhaps not surprisingly, 50.4.




So you were the fastest, and
I congratulate you. Thank you.

But the point is, we were all slower
than the Stig, and yet we weren't.

Mm-hm. Hang on.
How do you make that out?

Time moved more slowly in the '80s.

Because when you're 30,
a year is a 30th of your life.

When you're 50,
it's a 50th of your life.

'By the time Hammond had got this
one worked out...

'..darkness had fallen.'

So what have we learned?
Well, obviously we've learned

that our cars are much cheaper
than their modern-day equivalent,

and in real terms faster.

But I think we'd all agree that they
are looking a little bit...tired.

So we decided to spruce them up
at the top-secret

Top Gear Antique Restoration Centre,

on the A451,
just outside Kidderminster.

Here, cars are wrapped in a special
self-adhesive material

to give them
a brand-new factory-fresh look.

If you pay somebody else
to respray your car...

£5,000, £10,000. Easily.

This is less than 1,000.

You know, pull the right bit
off there, job done.

With the Renault done,
we decided to do our cars ourselves.

OK, well... We'll see how we get on
with that later on.

But now, it's time to do the news.

Now, BMW has made
a three-cylinder hybrid.

Would you like to see a photograph?
Well, no, not really, no.

Well, that's a rotten bit of luck
cos here it is.

Wow, is that it? Yeah,
three-cylinder hybrid, right there.

It looks quite good.

Is it vaguely reminiscent of the old
M1? Remember the supercar they did?

What it is, I'll tell you exactly
what it is, that is the future.

It really genuinely is.

It's lightweight construction,
petrol engine,

working in tandem
with an electric motor.

I know that sounds dreary,
but think about it,

it's the exact same recipe
you get in a McLaren P1,

and that is not dreary at all.

No, and more to the point,
you've driven it,
it's on the show next week. Yes.

Well, Come on, give us a hint,
what's it like?

It is genuinely unbelievable.
The speed simply is mind-blowing.

How fast? Beyond...

You can't keep up with just
how fast it goes, that P1,

and because of the P1,

it means normal people
can now drive a hybrid.

You don't have to wear
nuclear-free peace sandals,

you can be like normal people here
and have a hybrid.

That's why I think that is
going to be brilliant.

The thing is, it will go like a 911,
cost about the same,

but you don't have to be a moron
to drive one.

Child! You child! Like James
and Richard both have 911s.

We're back at work, aren't we?

We are back in the playground, yeah.

I'd like to talk about
things I'm sorry I missed

while we've been off air.

Plans are being drawn up, right,
to fine the owner of a car,

if a passenger throws litter
out of the window.

Fine him? The owner...

Oh, throw him to the dogs.
Well, no...

Use the Kim Jong-un technique
on people who litter.

No, I know what you mean, cos
littering is the most moronic crime.

It's pitiful, however, thanks to
this there is now an excuse for it.

An excuse for littering? Yeah. What?

Think about it, James, mate... Yes?

..can I have a lift home tonight
in your car?

Just me and, like, my favourite
bin bag full of empty crisp packets.

I was once riding my motorcycle
past a line of stationary cars

and I was hit in the face
by half a ready meal that had been
thrown out of a window...

I mean, still hot. That was me!

Was it?
Yeah, and it wasn't a ready meal!


It was an adult nappy!

Anyway, we've had the Formula One
testing all last week,

as I'm sure you know.

Important this year, the testing,
cos there's so many new rules.

The cars have to have 1.6 litre
engines, narrower wings

and sex aids on the front.

Don't be stupid,
they don't have to... They do!

Have a look at this at Caterham.

That's a sex aid on the front!
Oh, no! What are they...?

We've got a close-up
on the Toro Rosso.

Oh, God! You wouldn't want to be
rear-ended by that, would you?

Cos if you think of it,
you get in the car,

strap yourself in and there it is.

It is a strap-on, basically.

Formula "strap" One!
Formula "strap" One!

Formula "strap" One is what it is!

Right, here's a scenario. You're
racing towards the finish line,

neck and neck,
you want to cross the line first.

It's good if you could extend
the front a bit... Yeah.

..and maybe if you were,
I don't know, let's say,

having trouble extending
the bit at the front,

they could have a little blue
triangular button on the steering
wheel that you could press.

V Power! Yes!

There it is! For about
an hour and a's longer!

I'm just saying.

You don't get coverage like that
in Autosport magazine. Oh, yeah.

Now, are you always late
for your game of golf?

Are you sick of being the last to
the lodge? Well, it's good news!

Is it another Dacia?

It's not a Dacia...

There is a new 450-brake horsepower
Lexus called the RCF.

Here it is, what do you think?

I hate to have to say this, James,
but I actually quite like it.

I'm glad, cos I quite like it
as well.

Oh, God, I'm going to catch golf
from you two! Ugh!

I'm going to turn up next week
like that. Hang on a minute, though.

This is the second Lexus you've
liked. It is, you're a Lexus fan.

There you go.

And then, I'm going to join
the police as a constable

and become a chief inspector
within a week

with me trouser leg rolled up
and one of those.

Oh, it was the Masons!
I thought that was a sexual thing!

Ooh, I tell you what I was driving
the other day,

the new Mercedes S-Class
which is available

with a thermal imaging camera, OK,

which sends a feed from the front
of the car onto the dashboard,

so you can see
what's ahead at night,

beyond the range of your headlights.
We've got some footage of it here.

So as you're driving along,

the camera can see animals,
there you go,

and it picks them out in red,
or people.

As it's going along there is
an animal, you see?

That's clever. A bit of a gimmick,
though, isn't it?
You wouldn't rely on it.

You say that, James, but I was
coming back to my flat in London

the other night, it was quite late,
in the S-Class with that turned on.

As I was going up, it picked out
a red box in some bushes,

just outside my front door.

I drove up, I thought,

"What on earth is that
at this time of the morning?"

Drove up, when the headlines got
there, paparazzi photographer.

So it can find paps hiding in the
dark? Yeah, but there's a problem.

Because when I tried
to run him down...

As you get near, it automatically
applies the brakes.

What's the point of targeting
somebody, if you can't hit them?

They haven't thought that through.

Back to the drawing board with that,
please, Mercedes.

Now, obviously the biggest news
while we were off air

was the tragic accident
that Michael Schumacher had.

I don't know if any of his family
are watching, but I'm sure everybody

here would join with us to wish him
a full and speedy recovery.


Come on, old fella, pull through.


Tonight we are attempting to prove
to our teenage producers that the

hot hatches of our youth were better
than the hot hatches of today.

Yes, and when we left the action
we were at the Top Gear Restoration

Technical Centre, where we
decided to wrap our cars ourselves.

Because Hammond's car was
the smallest, he finished first.

The results of my labours.
Urban camo.

Or it might be Arctic urban camo.

Yeah, there's a rough edge here and
there, but for a first attempt

I think it's pretty crisp...

Behold the genius! What?

Hello. Mate, it's...

I haven't seen it in the light, it's
terrible! How brilliant is this?

What you're looking at here is
velvet. Why didn't you DRIVE it out?

Because I suspect James May,
as a cruel joke, has hidden my keys.

Actually, no. I suspect you've
effectively hidden your keys

because I suspect that's them there,

You left them on the roof.

And while I'm here,
isn't there a sunroof on this car?

Yes, here. Well, you can't open it,
or this door.

Or in fact, this door.

As Jeremy retrieved his keys,
James appeared.

He hasn't got the idea of wrapping,
has he? No.

Come on! It's a bit annual, mate.

That's exactly it. It's seasonal.
It is unequivocal, is what it is.

If you park that by the side
of the road,

and say to anyone,
"What's happened to that car?"

and they will say it,
"Oh, it's been wrapped."

Hang on, a text.

"Dear grandad..." Ooh!
Really? Thank you.

"Because 1980s hot hatchbacks
were so easy to steal,

"they were mostly used for doing
handbrake turns on housing estates

"and ram raiding Woolworths.

"So, to see which one of your
ridiculous cars..." Superb cars.

" best, you will have a game
of Supermarket Sweep."

The rules were simple.

The producers had laid out a course
around the aisles of a supermarket

and we had to see which of our cars
could get around it the fastest.

Right, James, you are going first.

Just so you know, there is a second
added to your time for every

£1 of damage that you do out there.

Right. OK? OK.

This is going to be like
living in the 1980s.

Three, two, one, go!

I am the intelligent one here

and the point of this is to not hit
anything, not to go around quickly.

He's neat. Isn't he?

A second is more easily saved
by not breaking something

than by driving into things.

Through the chicane...

Missing that, missing that,
missing everything.

Oh, his wheel got jammed up with...
spam! Spam!

Briskly around there...

And through to the finish.

How did I do? One minute and two,
but you did hit things, James.

After the value of the smashed
custard creams

and the splattered Spam
had been totted up,

I took my place on the start line.


Yes! Three, two, one, go!

That's a vigorous start.

Here we go!

And into the turn.

It's a bad crash! Oh, no!

That's a couple of seconds off
there. Yeah, I'd say so.

Things have gone literally...

I've hit the luxury toiletries!

And some bread.

Yes, I've just hit some... Oh.

Oh, no! I've got Rich Tea biscuits,
literally everywhere.

Oh, God above.

Well, it is a quick time now,
but it possibly won't be

once we've added on...
the destruction!

I've gone again.

In the plums!

He's on the finishing straight.

And...across the line!

It took a very long time
to work out Jeremy's score.

But eventually, it was my go.

Let's do this.

What do you think he's going to do?
Your style, or my style?

Well, if he's got any sense
he'll do mine,

but he hasn't got any sense
cos he's Hammond, so...

Go! Come on, little Nova,
here we go.

Oh, dear. Oh, that's...

Gee, that was enormous!

What manner of thing did he do?

Run away!

Here he comes.

And across the line!

Well, that's predictable. Oh, 1:04.

That completed
the supermarket challenge.

All we had to do now was help
Hammond right his car.

..Three... Maybe another one?

Come on!

The next morning, as we set off
to Wales for our next challenge,

all was not well in our convoy.

A packet of Coco Pops had severed
the fuel line in Hammond's Nova.

And one of the many crashes
had damaged Jeremy's Golf.

Oh, God, no, this steering...

There's something catastrophically
wrong. Look at it!

I can't... Oh!
Um, gentlemen, I may have to stop.

A couple of miles further on,

I found an empty airfield
where I could do some repairs.

Yes, the handling characteristics
were affected by a small accident

last night with some beef stew.

Oh, dear. I hit the bottom
of the wheel and it's gone in.
But you can solve it.

Yes, I've seen that done.
Most F1 teams do something similar(!)

Is your car working yet, Hammond?

I've got to put a new fuel pipe on,
it'll take me a second.

I've got one more jubilee clip to do
and it'll be done.

What? Text, which could mean
it is from the producers.

Ah, the results of Supermarket
Sweep are in. Oh, brilliant.

James - one minute and five seconds.
Three quid's worth of damage?

Three seconds added, three quid's
worth of damaged produce.

Richard. Yes?

Two minutes and 12 seconds.
That's 60-something quid's worth.

You got a minute and eight seconds,
yeah, you got £68 worth of damage.

Jeremy Clarkson. Yes?

28 minutes and six seconds.

Don't be stupid! Oh, you didn't
quite make the half hour!

It's rubbish, anyway, because in the
'80s I did not ram raid shops.

I had much better things to do
with my cars. What?

I can't tell you now. Why not?
The producers.

What? What I'm going to do, Hammond,
you can't do in front of

BBC health and safety people.

Eventually the producers went to get
something to eat

and with the cars mended,
I began my demonstration.

Right, this is called
Lap Of Your Own Car.

I'm going to climb out of
the window, over the roof,

through the passenger window

and back behind the wheel
before the car stops.

But you're the driver. Yes.

Right! Are we ready? I'm going to
pop it into neutral. Here we go.

Oh, my God. I think this is what
George Michael was trying to do.

Small steering input. I've got it.
Oh, my God. It doesn't really steer.

I'm out! He is out of the car.

I'm actually on the roof
of a moving vehicle.

I am doing a lap now.
Here he comes, ladies and gentlemen.

Here he is, coming in.

Tell you what, velvet's good,
you get better traction.

Genuinely staggered. It worked! Yes!

This success sent us on
a journey down memory lane.

Yeah! Two silver trays underneath
the rear wheels, handbrake on,

the best game in the world.

Musical chairs, let it begin.

Right, you're now steering.

I'm in the driver's seat! Your hair!

Get off!

Your bottom is touching my sausage!

May, go back. Go, go, go!

The '80s were brilliant.

They were better.
Just much better. Music was better.

Everything was better. Oh, yeah.

We then rounded off our Don't Try
This At Home nostalgia trip

with a traditional drag race.

Three, two, one, go!

The mighty Golf GTi.
Come on, Nova. Come on, come on!

No, he's getting away!

What's... Oh!

A total victory.

What's happened to Hammond?

What had happened to Hammond
was not good.

Still there. Perhaps it's not
used to being the right way up.

It's fine. It's fine.

Oh, that's good as well. Fine.

You've knackered that.
You've totalled your Nova.

It's fine.

Hammond... No, what?! Hammond...

Would you like to tell
the ladies and gentlemen

what happened to your Nova?

It just blew up. Did it? Boom!

Or did you change into first
rather than third?

Well, I did do that a bit. Exactly.

Never mind that, because
the producers are very cross with us

about our little trip
down memory lane.

They say that it might make
young people copy us.

I don't see why,
it's not like they've ever copied
anything else we do, is it?

No, you never hear kids
in the barber's say,
"Can I have hair like James May's?"

It was a montage of stuff

that was acceptable in the '80s
that isn't acceptable now.

Like wearing white socks. Exactly.

Or saying to a female co-worker,
"You look nice today."

Exactly. You can't do that any more.

Anyway, we must move on,
because I want to talk about

one of the most evocative words
in motoring.

Bonneville. Team it with "Triumph",
it's a legendary motorcycle.

Team it with "salt flats", it's
a shrine to the pursuit of speed.

Team it with "Hugh" and it's...
neither of those things.

But it is tonight's
Star in a Reasonably Priced Car.

From Downton Abbey, his favourite
TV show, Hugh Bonneville!

Hello! How are you?

He's here!

He's here. Have a seat. Thank you.

Richard Hammond is beside himself
with excitement.

Downton, he's obsessed.

I want to begin, if I may, talking
about your early life, early cars.

Despite your legendary name,
it doesn't seem like

you come from a family of
speed freaks.

No, the Bonneville salt flats
don't feature in my pedigree.

We were a family of Volvos,
when I was growing up.

Starting with a 121, a roundy shape,
number plate NUV665E.

For some reason,
I can remember that number plate,

but I can't remember my own now.

That's a weird thing. I was talking
to James about this the other day.

We can remember the number plates
of our fathers' cars.

JWY370J, DW510H
on the Cortina 1600E.

FYR495J on the Volvo 124.

So you can remember all your dad's
Volvos? Yeah, it's tragic, really.

They were 1 Series Volvos,
so very early ones.

The weird thing about
the first one, the NUV665E,

was that my dad
regretted selling it,

and he was at a zebra crossing
near where we lived in Blackheath

and suddenly he spotted it
about five years later

and flagged down the driver and said,

"If ever you want to sell it, it was
the biggest mistake of my life."

Later, the bloke got in touch

and it was in the family
for the next ten years.

On the subject of family,
why did you try to bury your sister

when she was still
perfectly healthy?

I can't believe you've asked me that
question. That's quite embarrassing.

Well, she'd been quite annoying.

I was about eight and she was 16,
I think.

I complained to Mum,

and she was cooking supper and said,
"Yes, that must be annoying."

I said, "I'm going to kill her,
but first I'm going to dig a grave."

And she said, "Yes, dear,
dinner will be in half an hour."

I got a shovel
and I started digging,

I measured it out,
six foot long and that wide...

I got about three inches

and the weird thing was,
Magpie were filming in our street.

They were doing a programme
about rag-and-bone men.

My mum ran out to say,
"We've got an old tin bath,"

so they said, "Can we film coming
round the back of the house?"

to where the tin bath was, and
the cameraman fell in the grave!

I hasten to add, I love my sister.

Yeah! Tried to kill her.

I once tried to kill my sister
when she put a drawing pin

through my space hopper.


You heard that, Joanna. Lord
Grantham just called you a bitch.

Did you have a flirtation
with Triumphs as a family?

I always coveted my aunt's
Triumph Stag,

which was a beautiful car,
and the selfish cow sold it

rather than give it to me
for free.

A Stag. You'd suit a Stag. A Stag.

You don't actually drive
a two-seater sports car

from what I understand?

No, I don't. I currently have
an XC90, a Volvo XC90. A fine car.

I bought it off a friend ten years
ago and it has served us very well.

But going to go to an Audi Q5.

Is that really Snoozeville?

That's like forsaking all food

and saying, "I'm going to live
for the rest of my life

"on nothing but wallpaper paste."

It's an appalling... Jeremy! What?

Stop talking to him about cars.

Hammond... Never, you're always
having a cup of tea.

What? Stop talking to him
about cars. Why?

Because he's from Downton Abbey.

He's Lord Grantham, over there.
I know! He's looking at me!

Ask him my question. What question?
Who's Lady Mary going to marry?

Which one? Who is Lady Mary
going to marry?

I have no idea. I'm sorry,
Richard, I don't know.

Of course he knows!
He's Lord Grantham!

Hammond, he's not here
to talk about Downton,

you're here to talk about
your new film.

Exactly. Go away! Back in your box!
Go away!

Anyway, the new film,
The Monuments Men, what is it about?

It is based on the true story of
these rather unsung heroes

of the Second World War, who were
art historians and museum curators

who were sent in after D-day,
largely, to try and locate the art

and treasures that the Nazis
were spiriting away,

and also to persuade the Allies not
to blow up that particular church

because there are Germans in it,

because it does contain
part of our culture.

Really? And that's a true story?
It's based on a true story.

We've got a clip. Ooh!
I've not seen anything of it.

Well, you can have a look at
yourself on telly. Look, here we go.

And finally, we have your sculptor,
Sergeant Walter Garfield.

He's a good egg.
I worked with him on the World War I
memorial in St Louis.

A-ha! St Louis...

How are you, old boy?
Hey, Walter, how they treating you?

Taking it pretty easy on us.

I think that they feel sorry
for us old guys.

I don't much fancy
an obstacle course. It's not so bad.

By the end, you're just crawling
on your belly

while teenagers
shoot blanks over your head.

Well, yes and no. How's that?

Yes, they are teenagers. And no?
They're not blanks.

Looks like my sort of film.
That is my sort of film.

Now, George Clooney.
He directed it as well, didn't he?

George directed it, he stars in it,
he produced it and he co-wrote it.

I've been wondering, looking at
what you're doing at the moment,

is how on earth
you are fitting it in,

because you're also working on W1A.

Yes, W1A is a spin-off of
a show I did called Twenty Twelve.

Which was fabulous. Thank you
very much. I properly loved that.

It was a mockumentary about
trying to organise the Olympics.

Obviously, my character made such a
success of organising the Olympics,

I'm the go-to man
to sort out corporate issues.

So what better place than
to go into the BBC?

When I heard that
this was happening,

and I can see all the location signs
around the BBC buildings

where you are filming it,
I was thinking,

how do you make fiction
about BBC management

funnier than what actually happens?

Broadcasting House, the new big
building on Regent Street,

Portland Place,
you're not allowed in there

even if you're BBC staff unless
you've been on a half-hour

health and safety course on
how to operate the building.

I started the course.

A lady with an eight-page document
arrived to talk me through it.

Page one was a picture of
a fire alarm, red fire alarm box.

It said, "This is a fire alarm."

Page two, a graphic of a green sign
with a man running like this

with the word "exit".
"That's an emergency exit."

At that point, I was taken off
to do some filming.

I still haven't...
You haven't completed the course?

I still haven't. I still have to be
escorted around Broadcasting House

in case I'm confused
by a light fitting!

Or something of that nature.
It is stupid.

I'm longing to see something
that satirises it,

but again, how are you doing it?
You must be the world's busiest man.

Presumably you drove very quickly
around the lap,

so you could get home more quickly?

No, I'm not a speed merchant.

At the beginning,
when The Stig took me around,

I was really terrified,
being in the passenger seat,

and I thought,
"I'll never be able to do this."

By the end,
as your guys will tell you,

I refused to get out, I wanted
to go again and again.

Who here would like to see the lap?


Play the tape, let's have a look.

The car, fresh after its long rest.

Come on, son!

Look at the lines, streaming down.

That is wet, really is pouring down,
and that's odd for England(!)

If you're watching abroad,
it's never normally like that here.

Where's the white line? Oh, there.

You may laugh, but it is
quite tricky to see the line

when the track is soaking wet.

It's really steamy.


You need to get that sort of thing
sorted out before you set off.

Even though the lines are invisible
from behind the wheel,

you've done a pretty good job.
That's not bad.

Woohoo! Perfectly judged.

Must remember to get some milk.

Worse than Kimi Raikkonen
for not paying attention,

but no worries through there at all.

Tyres, speedy, moving them
about nicely.

Oh, that is quick!

On the wrong side of the road there,
but never mind.

It's nicely done,
and you haven't gone off
on the second to last corner.

Gambon, a bit of understeer.
That car grips well.

And there we are. Across the line!

Now, ha-ha!

Just realised that's the first ever
wet lap we've had in that car.

Nobody else has driven around
in the rain.

Bearing that in mind,
where do you think you've come?

Well, I suspect...between
Ron Howard and Steven Tyler,

bearing in mind it's wet.

Somewhere between 1.50 and 1.51
is what you think you've done.

Well, you did it in...


Which means you're the first guest
ever to guess correctly...

Wait, wait, wait!

You just put Steven Tyler...
I'll cross it out, wrong.

A very professional show.
There, look, correct!

To be brutally honest with you,
The Stig did say

that you have a natural talent

and if it had been dry you would
have been very close to the top.

Well, that's an accolade then. It is.

I'll go away happy, thank you.
Ladies and gentlemen,
thank you so much, Hugh Bonneville!

Thank you.

Right, tonight the boys and girls
who produce Top Gear

are on a mission to prove that
the hot hatchbacks of our era

were rubbish. Yeah.
Things are not going well for me,

cos I've slightly damaged
the engine... Ruined.

Slightly damaged. Whatever... Damaged
the engine in my Nova and it's

on the back of a tow truck.
But despite this we had been told

to report to somewhere
we couldn't pronounce...

in Wales.

Having crossed the Severn Estuary
we soon arrived at the location.

Trefniadaeth Seilwaith Amddiffyn

Man Hyfforddi Caerwent.

And here on this huge, abandoned
army base crisscrossed

with more than 30 miles
of deserted roads,

we received the details
of our challenge.

Oh, hello. Why is it an envelope
and not a text this time?

That's a good point.
We're in Wales - no signal.

Ahh! Yeah!
We're back to the old ways.

Come on then, what is it?

"Because the drivers of '80s
hatchbacks were irresponsible

"and stupid they were often chased
by the 50."

Er, James, it means the 5-0,
as in Hawaii 5-0, it's the police.

Yeah, whatever.
Well, anyway. The 50!

"You will now go head-to-head with

"the Top Gear Police Department.
Each of you will take it in turns

"to drive your own car
while the other two will use

"a selection of police vehicles
to try and stop you."

That sounds quite good.
It does sound good.

Tell you what, Hammond,
you go first.

Erm, good, yes.

I might need a minute.

While Hammond mended his car,

James and I broke out
the TGPD pursuit vehicles

and slipped into
our police uniforms.

OK, Hammond, are you ready?

Yes, I am. This is going to be good.
In 3, 2, 1...

start the clock.

We are off.

Yep, it's just warming up.

Here we go...


Excuse me, sir, my moustache
would like a word with you,

if you'd like to step out of the
vehicle. You're nicked, sunshine.

What did I do? How long?
Eight seconds.

Do you know, another fault...

Did it? Very similar. Did it?

It manifested itself similarly to
the last one that one I repaired.

Tell that to the judge...
Yes...sunshine. Right.

Jeremy then put on the yobbo outfit

and lined up his velvet Golf
on the start line.

3, 2, 1...begin...

And there we are, eight seconds.
I've already beaten Hammond.

He's getting away, constable!

Yes. Live with this...!

You see, what we're learning
straight away is that

a modern police Astra is no match
for a 1980s hot hatchback.

And it wasn't just the Astras
that were causing problems.

Recent figures say that in London

12 police cars
are crashed every day.

And the reason is, it's because
they are driving in high-energy

difficult situations while under
the influence of the moustache.

Got a moustache, got a moustache,
got a moustache.

Oh, he's lost it!

Totally distracted
by his face decoration.

MUSIC: "Miami Vice Theme"
by Jan Hammer

With the Astras
unable to close the gap...

Come on!

..the chase went on...

..and on...

and on...

The next morning, the weather
had become extremely Welsh.

But still, the Golf was uncaught.

This isn't working, sir.

No, I agree, I think
we're going to have to break out

the Top Gear Police Department
magnetron of justice.

If anything could stop
the miscreant, it was this.

A giant crane with a seven-kilowatt
magnet suspended from its arm.

A machine that could render
any vehicle immobile in moments.

Right, let's go get him.

Soon, the trap was set.

Mmm, what's this...?

Arming magnet.

Here he comes...

Blithering idiots. Do they not
realise you can't use a magnet

to pick up velvet?

There was only one thing for it -

unleash the TGPD
remote-controlled car of death.

Target vehicle identified
and located.

Where the hell are they?

How can this be a police chase when
they aren't chasing me any more?

Target acquired...

Sir, you might want to
put your fingers in your ears.

I don't know where those two are
or what they're plotting

but it won't work.

This car is simply...


Bigger than I was expecting,

Yes, sir, it was, sir.

So, it turns out that velvet
is impervious to magnets,

but it IS pervious to dynamite.

Nevertheless, I felt confident
that James would not be able

to beat my evasion time
of 14 hours and 22 minutes.

In...3, 2, 1...

start the clock.

However, as he set off it
became clear he'd come up

with an unusual plan...

What is he doing?

Now, the thing is, viewers, whenever
you watch Police Camera Action

or see a real police chase, the
person trying to get away is always

going ludicrously fast,
but, actually, what's the point?

You'd just panic
and have an accident

and that's the end of that,

but if you just do normal speed,

they still can't get you
out of the car, can they?

Keen to prove him wrong,

I initiated the TGPD
anti-terrorism move.

Here we go.

Pushing, pushing.

Got him.

He's just driven off!

'As the hours crawled by,
we tried many things.'

Stop him, Constable!

How's that going to help?

I've fallen off the bonnet!

What are you going to do
if the doors are locked?

You can't pull a man
out of a car.

This is an arrest.

'Happily, though, after many hours of
tedious pursuit...'

Weaving, weaving...

'..James finally made a mistake.'
Oh, crikey, this is a dead end.

Yes, his sense of direction
has let him down. A-ha!

In we go, yes.


We've got him! We finally have him.

We don't have him,
he's closed my door.

He's done it again.

And now look.
I've damaged a police car.

'This meant I was now delayed
with police paperwork.'

"I were in pursuit of a pleb...

"IC1, male.

"He did crash into me at speed."

I'm going to get that bastard!

While Jeremy had been
finessing his statement, I decided

it was time to skewer May
with the TGPD prongs of doom.

It's a heavy, high-mobility
engineer excavator,

built by JCB for the military.

It weighs 13.5 tonnes, but it's got
a 6.7 litre straight-six turbo-diesel

and it can do 63mph.

James May, you've had it!

Wherever you are.

'James had vanished. But we had
just the thing to find him again.'

The time has come, I think,
to deploy the Top Gear Police
Department drone of intrusiveness.

'With its military-spec nose-mounted
reconnaissance camera, it would
track down May in a heartbeat.'

Here we go.

The drone of intrusiveness
has crashed.

'Eventually I got the drone airborne
and begun the hunt for OJ May.'

Wait a minute.

You sneaky little...

James was hiding
in an abandoned garage bay,

but if he thought he was safe there,

he had another think coming.

Welcome, everyone,
to the Top Gear Police Department

eaty thing of devastation.

This was designed primarily
for mine clearance, but in the TGPD,

we use it in
a rather different way.

There is Constable Hammond.

The enemy, behind that wall,
no idea what is coming.

Engaging flails!

Flails engaged!

I'm not sure he should be
operating that thing.

Yes, look at that!

He's not where...

What he isn't, sir, is there.

Situation update:
in three minutes' time,

I will have beaten Jeremy's record
on the run at a reasonable speed.

But the TGPD toy box
wasn't empty yet.

Whoa! Ha-ha-ha!

Hello, it looks like
Constable Hammond

has got the hang of tank driving.

The first thing you need to know is,
I have an erection!

Coming at you, James May!

Oh, no, the Top Gear Police
Department tank of righteousness
is right on my tail.

What am I going to do?

I know.



Oh, hang on a minute.

He's stopped, he's given up!

And on that bombshell...
back to the studio.

It's interesting, an important
question was raised in that film.

Because if you have a moustache,
how do you concentrate

on doing anything other than
having a moustache?

I know, I felt like I was the
life-support machine for a moustache.

If you're a bomb disposal man,
and you have to defuse a bomb,

you are thinking,
"I have a moustache."

How did Nigel Mansell win a Formula
One world championship? I know!

You don't have a moustache, sir,

but let me show you
what it's like to have one.

It's like that. What do you do
for a living? Transport manager.

You couldn't be a transport manager
if I was doing that to you.

Anyway, we must get on
because I have received a text -

the results of
the car evasion challenge.

Jeremy Clarkson, 14 hours
22 minutes. Richard Hammock...

Autocorrect again?

Yes. Eight seconds. Thank you.

James May, 14 hours, 21 minutes.

Oh, blast! There you are.

Hang on, so the Fiesta
won the supermarket sweep,

the Golf won the police chase

and the Nova won the hill climb.

That means that each of the cars
is a winner. Precisely.

Which means that the older
hot hatchback

is better than the modern one.

Which means we were right, and on
that bombshell, it's time to end.

Thank you very much for watching.
Good night!