Cancelled men are my favourite vice

Two of the world’s most polarising blokes – both perilously close to causing a little too much offence – are back in the spotlight with lucrative TV projects.

Chris Rock is back in his new Netflix show, Selective Outrage.

Of all my vices, cancelled men are my favourite. It’s also an awfully good oxymoron, don’t you think?

The majority of men who suffer public humiliation or who lose a coveted role due to poor behaviour generally always bounce back. I’m not saying they’re like Teflon, more like collagen. And watching the climb back up and into favour with fans, the general public – or those who sign their pay cheques – is just as delicious and fascinating to watch. Men are from Mars, women are from Venus, but this is like witnessing those rovers do their thing in real time, discovering brand new territory on Planet Cancelled.

Two of the world’s most polarising blokes, who have both gotten perilously close to causing a little too much offence, are back in the headlines and the spotlight with lucrative TV projects.

This week Chris Rock broke his silence just a few days out from the anniversary of “The Slap”.

Come Monday it’ll be a year since the former Oscars host was assaulted at the ceremony by Oscar winner Will Smith for making fun of Smith’s wife, Jada Pinkett Smith.

Smith has made many public apologies, begging to be liked again. Rock had not acknowledged the incident. Until now via a (reported) $60m-plus Netflix deal which streamed his new show – aptly titled Selective Outrage – live. It was topped and tailed with roasts by some of his famous mates, like Dana Carvey and Leslie Jones, which could be viewed as a warped in memoriam package for the 58-year-old comic.

Rock’s brilliance has always been his stand-up performances, his cadence. You’ve got to see him on stage on screen to see how he brings his jokes to life. His cheeky grin alone could spawn a thousand more slaps. But this new gig of his is less groundbreaking and, when it comes down to it, nothing more than a gimmick.

While Smith has vented about the incident publicly in an attempt to smudge clean the PR slate, Rock appears to have held on to some of the bile.

He seems bitter. His writing used to be sharp and punchy, now it’s like he’s been buffering it for 12 months. Jokes and punchlines about trans people and pronouns might have been funny some time ago: “I’m rich but I identify as poor. My pronouns are broke.” And his bits about women, especially those in their 40s and 50s needing financial help made me roll my eyes, not pat away the tears of laughter. Especially when he then went there with the abortion issue (a particularly prickly topic in the US right now) and lamented the fact so many women continue to sleep with “broke men”. However his insights as a (somewhat) progressive, and a father, on the topic were a delightful surprise.

Will Smith’s infamous Oscars slap on Chris Rock. Picture: AFP

Despite him dedicating the last eight minutes of the show to addressing The Slap – where he attacked Pinkett more than Smith – it was Meghan Markle who copped most of the barbs, with Rock suggesting the actor-turned-princess married one of the creators of colonialism and then had the temerity to be shocked the system didn’t know what to do with her.

“She didn’t know? It’s the royal family! They’re the original racists!” he offers.

The race theme is his strongest, in spite of the criticism he writes black jokes for white people who proudly claim to have “a black friend”.

But this time around he addresses the theme in a personal way by talking about his mother and children. One of his two daughters is covered: Rock made sure she was kicked out of her posh high school after being caught drinking on a study trip to Portugal – something Lola Rock, his ex-wife and lawyer – only learned during the performance.

“I need my black child to learn her lesson right now before she ends up on Only Fans,” he begged the principal.

He goes on to explain how his kids are rich and spoiled – they ski, they’re bilingual and they fence for sport. After being expelled, Lola had to apply to new schools and is now the “coolest person” Rock knows. She’s also studying at culinary school in France.

He juxtaposes this achievement with that of his mother, a woman born during a time of segregation who had to see a vet instead of a dentist as it was against the law for a black child to see a white dentist.

“The same woman who had to go through the indignity of getting her teeth taken out by a f--king vet. The same woman now, twice a year, gets on a plane, flies to Paris to have coffee with her granddaughter,” he says.

“Touche, n----r touche” is how he rounds out this highlight of the show.

Rock has always been a screamer; his shows have involved him using his outside voice. However Selective Outrage, while a welcome and clever return to the mainstream for the comic, gives off strong “divorced” vibes.

He is bitter, a little bit angry and somewhat confused at the world around him. But, then, who isn’t right now, right?

Clarkson’s Farm is wonderfully entertaining, writes Jenna Clarke. Picture: Amazon

On the other side of the pond we have Jeremy Clarkson, a man renowned for his car reviews and more recently also penning a scathing column about Markle which saw the publication remove it from the internet and his own daughter call out his actions. But his dip in public opinion did nothing to stop season two of his new show, Clarkson’s Farm, going ahead.

If he could write less and do more of this stuff – presenting to the world his latest hobby, farming, a show in which he is wonderfully entertaining – that would be agreeable.

Putting Clarkson out to pasture, quite literally, is the best thing for his reputation. Clarkson’s Farm paints him as an urbane celebrity (definitely prone to the odd almond latte in the inner city) and charmingly out of his depth as he attempts to turn 1000 acres (about 400ha) of his aptly titled Diddly Squat Farm into something resembling a profitable business venture.

Clarkson’s Farm is up there with the best shows I’ve seen in a long time: Charming, appealing to those of us with a country sensibility, and informative. Each episode charts how the team navigates a post-Brexit Britain from an agricultural, social, economic and international trade perspective.

Last season they tried their luck with cropping, this time around they’re buying cattle. Clarkson’s questions about the beef and dairy industry in Britain are telling.

When dropping more than $50,000 on a small herd of “grass fed” cows with a view to opening his own paddock-to-plate restaurant, he speaks of the Boris Johnson-approved free-trade agreements with Australia and quips that British cattle are superior to imported beasts from the Antipodes.

Clarkson has no clue. Last week I witnessed a grass-fed bull be sold at auction for $106,000. Aussie beef is the Beyonce of the livestock world. However it’s segments such as this which are entertaining and informative but not in a boring policy way. Clarkson’s Farm is brilliant despite its star’s agricultural aptitude.

Long live cranky, almost cancelled, men. You’ll soon have enough in the talent stable to be your own genre and I’ll be here with the popcorn.

Chris Rock: Selective Outrage is streaming on Netflix
Clarkson’s Farm is streaming on Amazon Prime