The new Grand Tour did not need another fighter jet, hypercar or desperate attempt to prove that three new presenters could replace Jeremy Clarkson, Richard Hammond and James May. The Grand Tour kei cars episode works because it finally puts an interesting automotive argument ahead of the succession drama: why have normal cars become so unnecessarily large?
Episode 3, It’s OK to be Kei, sends Thomas Holland, James Engelsman and Francis Bourgeois toward Colorado and Pikes Peak in tiny Japanese machines after a conversation with James May about automotive bloat. That premise gives the reboot something its first episodes occasionally struggle to establish an identity built around curiosity rather than comparison with the old trio. It also moves naturally beyond the new hosts chemistry test that dominated discussion before the reboot arrived.
Grand Tour Kei Cars Turn a Joke Into a Serious Question
On paper, the episode has classic Grand Tour ingredients.
Engelsman chooses an Autozam AZ-1, Bourgeois drives a Suzuki Alto Works and Holland takes a Honda Acty Attack kei truck. The trio head toward Colorado, venture off paved roads and eventually tackle Pikes Peak in machinery spectacularly unsuited to America’s obsession with horsepower.
Prime Video’s episode description presents the challenge as an attempt to convince Americans of the brilliance of kei cars.
The comedy works because the cars look absurdly small against American roads and landscapes.
But the stronger joke is on the cars surrounding them.
A kei car is not miniature because its designers failed to make it larger. Its dimensions are deliberately constrained. Japan’s kei classification limits vehicles to 3.4 meters in length, 1.48 meters in width and engines of no more than 660cc, as detailed in Japan’s vehicle classification standards.
Smallness is the engineering brief.
That immediately turns the episode from novelty television into an argument about what cars actually need to do.
The Reboot Works Better When the Cars Create the Story
The opening episode of the reboot uses America’s Mustang GTD, Corvette ZR1 and Hennessey Venom F5 Revolution Evolution alongside fighter jets.
Those machines deliver spectacle. They also place enormous pressure on the presenters to manufacture entertainment around vehicles already designed to overwhelm viewers.
Kei cars reverse the equation.
An AZ-1 with gullwing doors, an Alto Works and a tiny four-wheel-drive Acty are inherently interesting because each solves ordinary transportation through strict limitations. Their lack of power becomes part of the experience rather than a deficiency that needs apologizing for.
That is where Holland, Engelsman and Bourgeois begin feeling less like custodians of Clarkson-era television and more like enthusiasts with their own reason to be there.
They can disagree about practicality, performance and ridiculous modifications because the cars give them something to argue about.
That distinction matters.
The Grand Tour was never successful solely because three men insulted each other. The best old episodes placed strong personalities inside an automotive question and allowed the machinery to create friction.
Episode 3 remembers that.
America Has Been Moving in Exactly the Opposite Direction
The kei-car premise also lands at an ideal moment for the U.S. market.
American buyers have steadily shifted away from traditional sedans toward SUVs, crossovers and pickups. The EPA’s latest vehicle-size trends show that SUVs now account for about 60% of U.S. vehicle production, while average vehicle weight, horsepower and footprint have generally increased over the longer term.
That makes the episode’s contrast unusually sharp.
| Design Priority | Japanese Kei Car | Typical Modern U.S. Trend |
|---|---|---|
| Size | Strictly limited | Increasing footprint |
| Engine output | Deliberately modest | Higher horsepower |
| Urban use | Central design purpose | Often secondary to versatility |
| Parking | Minimal space needed | Larger spaces increasingly useful |
| Material use | Kept low by dimensions | More vehicle around each occupant |
| Performance appeal | Momentum and simplicity | Acceleration and power |
| Core philosophy | Do enough with less | Do more with more |
Neither approach is universally correct.
An Acty is not the sensible replacement for a family towing a trailer across Wyoming. A kei car’s crash environment, highway performance and cargo capacity cannot simply be compared with a full-size American SUV without acknowledging what each vehicle was designed to do.
But America’s default has become size, even when many journeys involve one person, light luggage and urban roads.
The episode asks whether that default deserves more scrutiny.
Tiny Cars Expose How Strange Modern Automotive Progress Has Become
Automakers have spent billions making engines more efficient, batteries more energy-dense and vehicle software smarter.
Then much of that gain has been poured back into additional mass, performance and equipment.
Electric vehicles make the contradiction particularly obvious. Electrification can eliminate tailpipe emissions and dramatically improve drivetrain efficiency, yet very large batteries can create vehicles weighing well beyond two tons.
Kei cars approach efficiency from another direction.
Use less road space. Move less mass. Require less power. Accept that a commuter vehicle does not need sports-car acceleration or the dimensions of a mobile living room.
That philosophy is hardly glamorous.
Which is precisely why it works so well on The Grand Tour.
Constraint creates personality.
The AZ-1 looks exotic partly because Mazda’s Autozam brand tried to squeeze sports-car theater into kei dimensions. The Alto Works turns a practical hatchback into something enthusiast-oriented without abandoning the tiny-car formula. The Acty proves that utility does not automatically require enormous dimensions.
None needs 700 horsepower to make an entertaining television segment.
The New Hosts Stop Competing With Ghosts
Critical reaction to the reboot has inevitably focused on whether Holland, Engelsman and Bourgeois possess the chemistry of Clarkson, Hammond and May.
They don’t.
Trying to recreate three presenters whose relationship developed over two decades would be a terrible strategy anyway.
The more useful question is whether this trio can create a different version of the same basic pleasure: putting interesting people in interesting cars and discovering what happens.
It’s OK to be Kei suggests they can.
Bourgeois’ enthusiasm feels appropriate around machinery that rewards curiosity. Holland’s more technical instincts make sense when the vehicles are being pushed far outside their intended environment. Engelsman’s fascination with the strange mid-engined AZ-1 gives him an actual automotive position rather than simply a presenter role.
The result feels less like an audition.
That may be Episode 3’s biggest success.
The Grand Tour Should Keep Asking Better Car Questions
The next season, if the reboot continues, does not need to become smaller or abandon the huge international adventures that justify The Grand Tour’s name.
It does need more premises like this one.
Instead of beginning with “what expensive cars can we put in a spectacular location?”, start with questions enthusiasts genuinely argue about. Are modern cars too heavy? Have touchscreens made interiors worse? Is 500 horsepower more enjoyable than 100? Are cheap sports cars disappearing? Does reliability matter more than technology?
Then find the ridiculous road trip that proves—or destroys—the argument.
That is where the Grand Tour kei cars episode succeeds. The tiny machines provide comedy, but they also expose something real about today’s automotive industry: technological progress has become closely associated with adding power, size, weight and complexity.
Kei cars ask the opposite question.
How much car do we actually need?
More importantly for The Grand Tour, Episode 3 proves the reboot does not need to discover the next Clarkson, Hammond and May.
It needs to rediscover why three people arguing about an unusual car could be more entertaining than any supercar racing a fighter jet.
