The End of an Era for Clarkson, Hammond and May

From then on, it was the dynamic that mattered. Three mates – part affection, part exasperation – bickering their way across the globe in everything from supercars to scrap. And somehow, it never got old.

But for me, it was more than just TV. Growing up, Top Gear brought my family together every Sunday night. It became a ritual. For one hour each week, we’d laugh – at Clarkson’s theories in the news segment, the arguments over who brought the wrong car, or those legendary “some say…” intros for The Stig.

Craig’s Highlights

Vietnam Special‍

Whilst I do feel the format had become tired by the time of the infamous fracas – and lately, it seems the trio have become tired of one another – I simply cannot deny the genius of Top Gear. It took a niche and made it mainstream, turning it into essential viewing for the entire family. The presenters’ journalism roots anchored the show, but it was their natural rapport and comedic timing that brought it to life. You could see their attachment to each car, forming a bond with every vehicle. At their core, all three of them lived and breathed cars. This wasn’t a side hustle.

Its appeal was universal. It had laughs, it had adventure, it had ambition and awe (North Pole) – and yes, controversy (too much for some tastes). At times, it even made you shed a tear. Clarkson’s affection for the ‘boring’ 928 or the Senna tribute still come to mind.

For me, the Specials were what truly set the programme apart. The sense of scale, the sometimes inhospitable landscapes, and – of course – the cars, all combined to create something memorable. The three estate cars across Africa still makes me want to trade the mortgage for an early T5 R and some Egyptian cotton bed sheets. And yes, I know that’s a hybrid of Clarkson’s and May’s cars before you start.

Yet the single greatest hour Top Gear gave us wasn’t even on four wheels – it was on two. The Vietnam Special remains, to me, the most finely crafted hour of factual television I’ve ever seen. There’s little point recounting every detail – you already know the score.

Isle of Man M Cars

From the vast back catalogue of Top Gear and The Grand Tour, why choose one of their more straightforward, magazine-style episodes? Because it proves they could do serious motoring journalism just as well as the silly stuff. And, of course, the subject matter – I’ve never been shy about my admiration for BMW’s M division.

The introduction of the E46 M3 CSL on the derestricted roads of the Isle of Man was pure perfection. The episode also showcased icons like the E30 M3, E34 M5, and the M1. The trio still managed to squeeze in a classic bicker with a group test of the Honda S2000, Porsche Boxster, and BMW Z4. It showed they weren’t just about laughs – they could review cars with gravitas when needed.

Clarkson at the Nürburgring

“I could do that lap time in a van!” Special for being the episode that introduced the wider world to Sabine Schmitz. Clarkson’s attempted mastery of the Nürburgring seemed easy to the uninitiated – unless you’ve been there. By the end of the episode, I defy any casual viewer not to be gripped, rooting for Jezza as he crosses under the bridge for a 9:58 BTG lap. And I also defy them not to fall a little bit in love with Sabine herself – and the race track she called home.

Other memories come flooding back: setting the car wash on fire with the convertible MPV, the Hovervan, or May’s uncontrollable cackle at Clarkson’s Citroën caravan being blown by crosswinds. Then there were the challenges – £10,000 supercars, £1,500 Porsches, British Leyland cars. The list goes on.

Whilst I’ll happily watch Chris Harris on Cars, Harry Metcalfe, or Jason Cammisa on YouTube all day long, I’d watch Clarkson review a toothbrush. Then I’d wait for Hammond to come along and argue that his Colgate was better, before May interrupted with the advantages of brushing one’s teeth using electricity. That’s the difference – that’s the lightning in a bottle.

But nothing lasts forever. Yes, the show became predictable, and the gags felt manufactured – but I can’t name a single series that ran for more than six seasons without dropping the ball. The Simpsons is still alive and well, but the show is no longer funny. The charm has gone. The Sopranos, The Wire, Gomorrah – they all knew when to call time. At its peak, Top Gear was churning out 26 episodes a year. That’s once a fortnight – a gruelling schedule.

Top Gear became part of the fabric of British popular culture, a phenomenon that went global. I remember thinking up potential episodes for the show. A puerile journey to Twatt in the remote Shetland Isles. A trek across Canada and into Alaska. My favourite? A Russia special in blacked-out budget supersaloons. Obviously, Putin had other ideas – but honestly, how hard can it be?

Ken’s Highlights

“Thorough Road Tests”

The genesis of this was the review of the then-new BMW X6, before it morphed into a series of short segments bound together by questions ranging from reasonable to absurd, presented on a black screen with white text. Is the Ford Fiesta green? Is the Renaultsport Twingo 133 practical? Can the Skoda Yeti fit Sienna Miller in the glovebox?

These reviews have been the biggest source of personal inspiration to me, and without them, the viewing public would never have learned whether the ride quality of a Mercedes-Benz EQS is on par with a helicopter – or whether an E-Class Cabriolet can go through a car wash.

“Modern Peugeot Driver”

My friends and I still yell “MANIAC!” at each other and incompetent road users to this day. The mix of history and a rather accurate portrayal of some of the worst drivers on British roads made it one of the most hilarious segments they ever aired. And I can’t help but notice – since being thoroughly rinsed by Clarkson and May, Peugeot have quietly become one of the most stylish and desirable mainstream carmakers around.

"Refuelling on the Move – The Grand Tour"

The average driver spends 36 days of their life refuelling. That got Richard and James thinking – how could it be made quicker? Taking inspiration from air-to-air refuelling, they created a range of machines to top up fuel tanks on the go. The theory was foolproof. The execution was chaos.

I’ve always loved the “consumer advice” and problem-solving segments – even if the problems were never actually solved.

These three highlights are more factual than cinematic, but they signify what I realised was the greatest thing Top Gear and The Grand Tour ever worked into their episodes: information.

Perhaps the biggest influence I’ve taken from countless hours of watching, laughing, and rewatching is the importance of making sure the viewer – or reader – learns something new. Whether it’s that the stripped-out CLK 63 AMG Black Series is heavier than the model it’s based on, the Track Pack for the Dodge Challenger SRT Demon cost just $1, or the gear knob of the Audi RS4 is half an inch wider than that of the C 63 AMG and BMW M3.

In anything I write or host, I want the audience to learn something – and that’s because the best in the business made sure I did.

Alex’s Picks

Top Gear will always hold a special place in my heart – as I’m sure it will for many others. Come Sunday night at 8pm, the whole of Britain came to a halt. Even if you had zero interest in the motorcar, Top Gear was still must-watch TV. The writing, the visuals, the production – through the 2000s and 2010s, it was unmatched. Add to that the chemistry of Clarkson, Hammond and May, and you had a cult classic.

It all came crashing down in 2015, and Top Gear was never the same. But thanks to some savvy execs, The Grand Tour was born – giving car bores, and those after some light entertainment, the fix we needed.

Picking my three favourite moments is like choosing my three favourite organs – but here goes nothing.

Veyron vs Cessna 182 (2005)

Who could get a truffle from Italy to the UK the fastest? That was the premise. Clarkson had a Bugatti Veyron. Hammond and May had a Cessna 182.

Just seeing a Veyron on screen was huge. Watching it devour 800 miles of Europe was surreal. Footage of the car carving through Mont Blanc, surging down French autoroutes, and bursting out of the Channel Tunnel was intercut with a despondent Hammond, stuck in the sky with May. David and Goliath doesn’t quite cover it.

US Special (2007)

Hammond in his spiritual home, a cow on the roof of a Camaro, and – of course – the infamous “Run out of Alabama!” sequence. This one distilled everything the trio had ever told us about America, from start to finish.

It felt like a fever dream – a surreal mirror held up to the Deep South. I don’t think I’ve ever laughed as hard as when that ratty old Camaro appeared with a dead cow strapped across its roof. Utterly preposterous – and all the better for it.

Lochdown (2021)

V8s, Scottish scenery and caravan torture – what more do you need? This wasn’t the funniest or most original special, but it brought some much-needed levity during a grim time.

Filmed in the October of 2020, deep in the pandemic, it still managed to squeeze in the usual nonsense and charm. It inspired me and my then-girlfriend to take a road trip around Scotland and the NC500. I proposed on that trip. We’re now married.

Lochdown will always remind me of that time – and for that alone, it’s one of my favourites.

Kotto’s Favourites

The most influential people in motoring – and possibly television – are parting ways. Like Alex in a Porsche dealership, this moment was inevitable. But now it’s here, and yeah – it stings. Still, I’m hoping we’ll see fresh talent emerge from the dust. Personally, I’d love to see Tanner Foust, Matt LeBlanc, Martin Brundle and Chris Harris head up a new show on all things cars.

The USA Special – Top Gear

Another vote for the fly-drive chaos. Is there a more entertaining hour of television? Three utterly hopeless cars, a ridiculous quest to find a half-decent hire alternative, and a cartoonish state full of future Trump voters throwing rocks at them.

“Nascar sucks.” “Man love is OK.” “Hillary for president.” It was chaos. It was magic. And somehow – after all the paint, petrol and projectiles – it ended on a surprisingly touching note. Just three friends having the time of their lives.

Survival of the Fattest – The Grand Tour

Years after Top Gear, the trio nailed it again. This time? Mongolia. One wooden crate, zero alcohol, and a flat-pack Land Rover that had to be assembled and driven to safety.

The scenery was jaw-dropping, the friendship still genuine, and the humour – even without beer – was classic. If they made a show about autopsies and James May had to stick a speculum into a cadaver, I’d watch it.

Patagonia Special – Top Gear

This sits alongside Breaking Bad, The Sopranos, Chernobyl, Community and House MD for me. It starts with business as usual – three brilliant cars, a big adventure across Argentina. It’s hilarious, sharp, even moving. Clarkson’s 928 monologue still hits like a freight train.

Then the tone shifts. Suddenly, it’s a real drive for survival. The border crossing, the rocks, the chase. You knew they’d make it – of course they would – but I watched that episode sweating like I was in the car with them. One of the greatest things to ever appear on a television screen.

I think people naturally become car fans the moment that first spark of interest catches. But Clarkson, Hammond and May proved you didn’t have to be a shut-in anorak to love this stuff. They were articulate, intelligent, hilarious. They made cars accessible – without ever dumbing them down.

Bravo, lads.

Aaron’s Highlights

The Final US Road Trip – Top Gear

America has always been the place where the trio pushed the boundaries of what they could get away with. Their last big trip Stateside might have been tamer than some, but it still had moments.

First up – laser tag, with fighter jets. How that idea even came about, I’ve no clue, but I’m glad it did. It was pure panic, brilliantly captured. We also had sabotage – Hammond’s seat moved out of reach, HT leads pulled, fruit stuffed into tailpipes – plus the helpful team at Lexus trying to keep Clarkson alive.

The P45 – Top Gear

After Top Gear introduced us to the Peel P50, Clarkson decided to build something even smaller. The result? The P45 – a car too slow to go anywhere, with a fuel tank smaller than the minimum delivery allowed at petrol stations, and an electric range shorter than I’m willing to walk.

To prove its worth, Clarkson took it onto Dragons’ Den, where – in true Jezza fashion – he offended every Dragon and walked out with nothing. Naturally, the P45 returned later, this time as a Stig-driven ambulance.

Homemade Ambulances – Top Gear

When the trio tried to reinvent emergency services, they did it their way. We got a nuclear disposal truck, a business-class hearse, and the Rambulance – a modified van complete with a drop-off ramp that looked more like a trebuchet.

Best moment? The medical challenge – three dummies, three presenters, and a modified track with added speed bumps. May trying to use a defibrillator while being flung around by The Stig is still etched in my mind.

So why am I not sad that it’s ending? Because I got to watch it. That’s the simple truth. I grew up with Clarkson, Hammond and May. They’re the reason my family could share in my passion for cars – the reason we laughed together, week after week.

They brought us closer. They gave us memories.

All we have to say from the team here at RUSH is thank you, Mr Clarkson, Mr Hammond and Mr May. Thank you for a lifetime of chaos, laughter, and cars – in that order.