Noel Edmonds' Kiwi Adventure review: Noel is the greatest tragicomic character of our time and this dark horse has as much charm as Clarkson's Farm
Noel Edmonds ' Kiwi Adventure
Rating:
The pitch for Noel Edmonds' Kiwi Adventure must have been: let's do Clarkson's Farm, but with Noel Edmonds. Yes, let's. And it does not disappoint. It's as if one of Alan Partridge's most desperate pitches finally got made.
I had, in fact, stopped holding out for 'youth hostelling with Chris Eubank ' or 'arm wrestling with Chas and Dave' but now feel hopeful again.
This is top-quality entertainment, possibly not for the right reasons, but I watched two episodes (of the six) and was transfixed.
Edmonds may be the greatest tragi- comic character of our time.
Noel Edmonds moved to New Zealand in 2018.
Ah, so that's where he's been for the past seven years, you probably hadn't been wondering. He was no longer a fan of Britain.
He says: 'All the things I miss about Britain are the reasons I left. It changed so much, so fast, so fundamentally, that I found myself missing a quieter country.' He then adds perceptively: 'We are not trees so we can move.'
His estate, River Haven, is a monumentally stunning 800 acres. Here he is attempting to run a restaurant, a pub, a vineyard, a wellness centre, a general store and a coffee shack.
He wants to be clear: this is not about him.
He and his 'earth angel' wife, Liz, 'could sit in a big house somewhere but we feel we need to make a difference'.
He met Liz when she was his make-up artist on Deal or No Deal. She first walked into the make-up room at 11.06 on October 6 in 2006, so now all the clocks in their house are set to 11.06. 'I knew she was in the room before I turned round,' he remembers. 'You will never pull us apart… we are one.' They are happy together.
They have warrior statues in their private garden 'because Liz believes I was an emperor or leader of men in my past'. (He also has a giant praying knight statue to counter 'dark forces'.) It's one fascinatingly bizarre moment after another.
They look through a box of old photos and he finds one fromLive Aid. 'My company organised the air transport,' he says, 'at no cost to them.'
He later says, randomly, 'I pay my tax.' It feels as if he's pleading with us: how could you not love me? How? That's the 'tragi' part, I guess.
He is 76, with hair that still defies gravity and, you could say, fashion. He looks remarkably unchanged. He has, it turns out, quite the wellness regime.
It involves lying on a bed under suspended crystals, pulse electromagnetism therapy, 'tranquil power' – using a multigym slowly, from the looks of it – saunas, ice-baths, a hyperbaric chamber ('it shoots pure oxygen into your body; I'm rocking!') and also 'VIBE'.
This he explains, is his acronym for 'visualisation of body energy'. (Let's all pretend we haven't noticed it should be 'VOBE'.)
He and Liz only drink 'structured water', which they make themselves. (Look it up.)
Wikipedia describes it as a 'scam' but he says it is better absorbed than regular water.
He likes to round off his sentences with: '…and that's a scientific fact'. Later it is: 'Your body is lighter after death because your soul weighs something… scientific fact.'
No one has yet identified the scientific universe Edmonds gets his facts from. Remember when he said bad vibes could give you cancer? Or did he mean vobes?
All this, and we haven't even got to his business yet! So, his pub is not called The Farmer's Dog and he doesn't sell a beer called Hawkstone.
Instead, it is called 'The Bugger Inn' and his beers include Tits Up, Boring Bastard and Old Git. There is also a Dickens Cider 'that is very popular with the ladies.'
No one has yet identified the humour universe he gets his jokes from either.
He doesn't draw Clarkson-style crowds. On the day his restaurant opens for the season only a couple of people turn up. (It is pouring with rain, to be fair.)
The pub stages a Halloween party that seems to have all the atmosphere of an underpopulated Saga event.
He worries that the local community won't accept him but, lest we forget, 'there are people who have lived here all their lives who are saying thank you, thank you'. No, thank you, Noel. This is a blast.
Hashtags
Try Our AI Features
Explore what Daily8 AI can do for you:
Comments
No comments yet...
Related Articles
Daily Mail
4 hours ago
- Daily Mail
Cardiff killers and mystery men in this months popular fiction: JULIE TUDOR IS NOT A PSYCHOPATH by Jennifer Holdich, A BEAUTIFUL FAMILY by Jennifer Trevelyan, PRIVATE LIVES by Emily Edwards
Julie Tudor is Not a Psychopath is available now from the Mail Bookshop JULIE TUDOR IS NOT A PSYCHOPATH by Jennifer Holdich (Hodder £20, 320pp) I LOVED this brilliant Cardiffset comic debut. Admin worker Julie is obsessed with her colleague Sean. But he does not return her passion so she eliminates the competition, not once, but several times. His wife, girlfriend and subsequently Sean himself meet what, to everyone else, are mysterious ends. Julie herself tells the story from her own highly selective point of view, also revealing some of her worrying early influences. A great cast of secondary characters – office workers, neighbours, random tramps – add to the fun. Serious Eleanor Oliphant Is Completely Fine vibes and just as hilarious, sad and disturbing. I predict a monster hit. A BEAUTIFUL FAMILY by Jennifer Trevelyan (Pan Macmillan £16.99, 288pp) WE'RE in 1980s New Zealand, on the holiday from hell with ten-year-old Alix, her parents and older sister Vanessa. The rented house is bleakly horrid, overlooked by a voyeuristic neighbour, and after meeting a friend from school in the local shopping mall, Vanessa has started shoplifting and flirting. To add to the fun, Alix's mother is up to something with the dad of another schoolfriend, which precipitates some violent reactions Oh, and a child died at the resort a few years previously, so Alix wants to try and find the body. She tells the tale through half-comprehending childhood eyes, but we can piece it together. Atmospheric, disturbing and beautifully evoked. PRIVATE LIVES by Emily Edwards (Penguin £18.99, 352pp) HEADMASTER Seb has a secret – he once bought a sex worker's services. Said worker unknowingly moves to the posh south-coast town where his school is. Entirely by accident, she becomes good friends with his wife. The cat emerges from the bag once busybody Anna gets involved and moral panic breaks loose among the schoolgate parents. Can Seb face them down, and save his job and family? But the consequences don't stop there; Anna's own marriage is drawn into the cycle of destruction. Just who, the novel asks, is the villain here? A great premise and plot with lots of emotion.
Daily Mail
5 hours ago
- Daily Mail
Farmer Thomas leaves host Natalie Gruzlewski speechless at dramatic Farmer Wants a Wife reunion: 'I can't believe what I'm hearing'
Farmer Thomas is set to stun Farmer Wants A Wife fans during the upcoming reunion on Monday night as he leaves host Natalie Gruzlewski speechless. The South Australian, 35, left the finale episode hand-in-hand with school teacher Clarette, 35, after he declared his feelings for her. Now, a teaser of the highly-anticipated reunion, which was filmed one month after the dramatic finale, saw Natalie, 48, lost for words over something the farmer said. While the clip doesn't give away any spoilers, viewers were on the edge of their seats as Natalie exclaimed, 'You what?!' while Thomas looked especially guilty. Trouble was detected as soon as the wheat, barley and lentil farmer entered the room with fellow stars Corey, Jarrad, Tom and Jack. From A-list scandals and red carpet mishaps to exclusive pictures and viral moments, subscribe to the DailyMail's new showbiz newsletter to stay in the loop. 'Gosh, Thomas, you look nervous,' Natalie joked as she gave the farmer a hello hug. Thomas sported a nervous smile as he then sat down on the couch. A montage of clips then followed of Natalie grilling Thomas over something he said, as she exclaimed, 'You what?!' and, 'Really, Thomas?' 'I can't believe what I'm hearing,' she added, before crying out, 'Thomas! Oh my gosh,' as she groaned and buried her head in her hands. Whatever has developed in the month since the finale is set to shock fans, as Thomas and Clarette were last reported to be going strong since they wrapped filming. Viewers watched last Monday as emotional scenes saw Thomas confess his feelings for the school teacher. The following day, Daily Mail Australia revealed the couple were still happily together. Clarette packed up her bags and relocated to Kimba to live with Thomas on his farm earlier this year. She is currently working at a local school teaching secondary English. After realising Clarette was The One, Thomas asked to speak with Rachael and Jess separately to tell them Clarette had won his heart during the finale. Both ladies wished him well before leaving the farm together. Making his boldest move yet, Thomas left a handwritten note asking Clarette to meet him at sunset for an important conversation. Their journey has been rife with drama, and the 13th episode saw Thomas make a dramatic comeback to the show just 24 hours after blindsiding his ladies by abruptly storming off the farm following a spat with Clarette. Clarette was left reeling from their argument and felt betrayed after discovering he'd been messaging his ex Claire, despite insisting their connection was over. Thomas was quick to shut down any lingering doubts. 'I mean it, I swear. The contact's deleted. No contact at all,' he insisted. His emotional plea seemed to work, with Clarette accepting his apology before the pair sealed their reconciliation with a passionate kiss. 'It was rocky, especially after the whole honesty box disaster, but Thomas realised Clarette was the one,' a production source told Daily Mail Australia. Watch the Farmer Wants A Wife Reunion at 9:00pm on Monday, 23 June on Seven and 7plus.
The Guardian
5 hours ago
- The Guardian
‘I am Jesus!': the TV brilliance of Noel Edmonds
He is risen. He is risen indeed. Six years after he huffed off to New Zealand in a hail of tuts, tsks and never-liked-you-anyways, Noel Edmonds has returned to our screens with a message for humanity. 'We're not trees,' he proclaims. 'We can move.' Noel Edmonds – and there can be no doubt that this is very much Noel Edmonds – is referring to his decision to leave the UK with his wife (Liz, 55) in order to establish an 800-acre hospitality business in the sobbingly beautiful South Island idyll of Ngatimoti. He doesn't like Britain any more, he says. It has 'changed'. But Noel – as his new programme, Kiwi Adventure, makes blisteringly clear – has not changed. He looks like a child's sand drawing of Aslan. He believes in 'the universal energy system', wears combatively tight linen T-shirts and has baths so cold he fears openly for the future of his scrotum. He is a deeply odd man. And yet. From the depths of the oddness re-emerges an imperishable truth: Noel Edmonds, for better or worse, is clinically incapable of making uninteresting TV. Here, then, are seven of the most notable emissions from the man's party cannon. 'Swap Shopppp,' bugled the theme tune, heralding the all-too-brief golden age of Saturday morning TV, an inflatable neon wonderland in which a jubilantly youthful Noel Edmonds could ask Kate Bush how she got her hair to go like that. Ferociously watchable studio quiz in which square-eyed families went cardigan-to-cardigan over questions about Blue Peter and Keith Chegwin. The winner? Knitwear. The runner-up? Telly. Noel's stewardship – aggressively serviceable action-slacks, smirk like the judgment of Zeus – would lend much-needed tension to the soft furnishings, thus plunging the McPerms of Perth and the Vauxhall-Cavaliers of Nantwich into a perpetual Scooby Doo-based deathmatch. Bring it back! Welcome ye to 'Crinkley Bottom,' an illusory fiefdom in which unsuspecting celebrity visitors (Dave Lee Travis, Edwina Currie etc) were greeted with mockery, gunge and often startlingly physical 'gotchas'. Pivotal to the chaos were Noel (presentational style: giggling necromancer) and bubonic familiar Mr Blobby, whose monosyllabic distress and sudden bouts of confused violence would attract audiences of 15 million. The House Party manifesto was as simple as the era in which it was conceived: hysterical conviviality for all, unless you're Dave Lee Travis, in which case we'll break your legs. Noël, Noël, Noël, Noël / Born is the King of Bra-aa-aaacknell. And Hove. And Ipswich, Canada, Finland and Crewe. The premise whispered of doom and seasonal biliousness but in reality the annual sight of Edmonds guffawing around the world to deliver festive reunions and white goods to the sickly and deserving was … not great, precisely, but also, crucially, not cack. The reason? Our host's unique ability to sidestep mawkishness while dressed as, variously, Santa, a Victorian dignitary and a garden gnome. He's called Noel for a reason, you know. The concept? Simple. The Noel? Guarded; tightly bearded; visibly uncomfortable around pensioners. The subsequent, sweltering tension – will Doris from Thanet attempt to engage him in a conversation about her dead husband for longer than her allotted 30 seconds? – would turn a daytime gameshow about cardboard boxes into a potentially lethal game of chance. Emboldened by the success of Deal or No Deal?, Edmonds' (brief) return to Saturday night TV found our subject very much in 'Noel's narked off' mode, sprinting through the obligatory 'members of the public rewarded for charitable deeds' bits in order to address the vexed issue of 'Broken Britain'. And lo, Noel didst upbraid bungling councils, bellow about bylaws and deliver sudden, snarling exhortations to know thy consumer rights lest the heavens split asunder and ye be cast into the eternal fire of implied warranty (Hotpoint 3:11-13). The subtext? I (Noel Edmonds) am angry, thus you (the viewer/Broken Britain/God) must pay. It was, in a very real sense, Brexit's patient zero. 'I am rocking,' intones Noel, emerging from his hyperbaric chamber like a blow-dried Christ. 'I. AM. ROCKING.' Broadcast this sort of stuff from a regional news studio and viewers would be lunging for the nearest mallet. But here, buttressed by a gasp-inducing mountain range and a preternaturally tolerant wife, Edmonds takes on an air of … vulnerability? Likability? Besides, the man's 76. If he wants to say 'I am Jesus' while wearing utility shorts in an outdoor shower, who are we to object? After six decades of televisual brilliance, awfulness, jumpers, Alan Partridge-esque hubris and comb-through hair colour, Noel Edmonds, perhaps more than anyone, has earned the right to be Noel Edmonds. Let us give thanks. Noel Edmonds' Kiwi Adventure is on ITV1 at 9pm.
