In the grand circus of television motoring shows, it's clear that not every act can be the roaring lion or the daring trapeze artist. Some, unfortunately, are destined to be the clown - and not in a good way. "Fifth Gear: Recharged" is exactly that - a clown, and one whose makeup is smudged and whose shoes don't squeak. Yes, another disastrous episode has limped across our screens, leaving bewilderment and yawns in its wake.
The episode's jaunt to Norway promised a smorgasbord of delights - a variable vista of views, an amazing soundtrack, and a barrage of Clarkson-esque one-liners. Instead, what we got was the visual equivalent of a soggy sandwich. Just endless shots of two painfully boring individuals in a car, accompanied by an obnoxious amount of clock-watching. The chemistry was so lacking it made me think the Hamster (Hammond) himself could've done this solo and still held the audience captive for hours with his pint-sized charm.
Then, there was the spectacle of watching Jason Plato, a name that once roared around the tracks, now pootling around in an SUV like a lost tourist refusing to ask for directions. This is where Touring Car legends come to a screeching, undignified halt. I recall meeting him once at Oulton Park, a man then full of speed and fury. Racing drivers fret about their careers ending in a twisted heap against an Armco barrier, but who would've thought Plato's trajectory would nosedive into the tepid world of mediocre television? It's like watching a Michelin-star chef resign themselves to flipping burgers.
And the conundrum that boggles the mind - why, oh why, do they all insist on cramming into a car together? If their collective presenting skills were dynamite, they couldn't muster enough blast to damage a cream puff. In some instances, their presence seems to actively erode the talents of those around them. It's like watching a group of muppets trying to solve quantum physics - utterly hopeless and mildly distressing.
In conclusion, "Fifth Gear: Recharged" is akin to a battery that you suspect is a dud. You keep it around in the hope that it might just spark some life into your remote control, but deep down, you know it's destined for the bin. It's a motoring show that's lost its way, a program that's not so much clutching at straws as it is fumbling for the ignition in a car with no engine. If this was a car, it would be the kind you push off a cliff for the insurance money. All in all, if this was a battery, you'd accept it was a dud and chuck it out, along with any notion that this show might ever get a jumpstart back to relevance.