Last week, one of the big arguments of our age, capable of producing conflict that has the potential to destroy a relationship or seriously disrupt family life, was suddenly nowhere to be seen: ‘To Series binge or not to Series binge. Whether it is nobler to watch one episode at a time or all at once……’ 

It was the unveiling of Clarkson’s Farm Series Three. After the five minutes, we knew we had to watch as many as we could, as soon as we could.

Hilarious, dramatic, upsetting, thought-provoking, and back to hilarious again. I cannot remember the last time I laughed so much. I even lost my voice.

Clarkson is much funnier Down on the Farm than in Top Gear or The Grand Tour. Although I doubt many of the locals in the nearby village still find him remotely amusing. His uber popular TV series chronicles his adventures as the owner of a sizeable farm in the Cotswolds nestling in an area of outstanding natural beauty. Hundreds of visitors now regularly visit Didley Squat. With its farm shop, a burger van and the small chance of bumping into some of show’s stars, traffic levels have soared.

In this series however, we are firmly on Clarkson’s side, as he comes to terms with what seems like extremely unfair local council restrictions on what he can do. Alongside these, our hero faces daily battles with the ‘cow juice’ police, or the health and safety police: the mountainous red tape and regulations controlling a farmer’s every move.

The buffoonery, the incompetence, the gap between grandiose ideas and reality are comedy gold which we all need a dose of. Instead of a great big growling old silver back aggressive alpha male, we have a Clarkson who is ignored, laughed at or accidently kicked in the groin; a Clarkson left totally befuddled and looking every one of his 65 years.

His pair of red Labradors routinely appear. They take no notice whatsoever of his commands.  If there’s a low branch, Clarkson will walk into it. A ditch, and he will get stuck in it. Another running joke is his stubborn belief that technology and vast sums of money offer solutions. But the more expensive the kit, the bigger the disaster. For example, his high-tech strap-on nettle picker that lasted five minutes. Yes, they exist!

But he never gives up. His British ingenuity has no limits. Who else would try to speed-harvest blackberries using a hoover.

It’s the local characters who often steal the show. Whether it’s baby-faced Kaleb, now promoted to farm manager who thinks someone born in Oxford is foreign. Or Alan the builder, or King of the Mullet Gerald, their exasperated interactions, and mutual attempts to understand each other are priceless. Their growing bonds of affection especially after shocking news about Gerald, add to the heartwarming scenes, completing the transformation of Clarkson from ‘grumpy git’ into old ‘fart with a heart’.

Hilarity aside, there’s also a serious reason to watch this. It’s one of the only TV programmes to show farmers (and people who have proper rural jobs) true to the salt-of-the-earth types they usually are; and true to the awful pressures they endure. BBC shows like Country File regularly misrepresent or patronise them. Made by urban elites for urban elites, as has been said recently, they are rarely on their side.

Worryingly, today, many in the countryside feel they have no political party whatsoever to represent them. The Tories have allowed the importation of cheap overseas animal products (often reared below RSPCA standards) and told UK famers to stop growing food. But a Labour Government will probably allow the countryside to be concreted over and prevent anything being grown at all.

Final reason to watch it. You will have a new understanding of mushrooms and a new name for them, which could change your life. On that bombshell…