It would be too much to say Jeremy Clarkson is complex, or an enigma. He does not contain multitudes. But he does have the disarming ability to present different versions of himself. At one end of the Clarkson spectrum is the rightwing bully columnist, bigoted in print and serially unpleasant in person; at the other is the presenter of Clarkson’s Farm (Prime Video), a perfectly agreeable celebrity-out-of-their-depth reality show, documenting Jeremy’s chaotic efforts to turn 1,000 acres (405 hectares) of Oxfordshire into a profitable concern.
The unobjectionable first season softened Clarkson’s reputation, but the second one arrives amid a lingering hubbub of outrage. A few weeks before the new episodes’ release, Bad Clarkson, horns aglow, spoiled Slightly Less Bad Clarkson’s moment by writing an article about his irrational loathing of Meghan Markle that was so horrible the Sun took it off their website. So it is, again, bewildering to press play on a well-made, good-humoured countryside caper, fronted by a man who comes across as nothing more than a mildly irascible bumbler. You simply cannot picture this guy punching an underling for bringing him the wrong dinner. It takes time to adjust.
