Evening all, Clarkson here.

The TVR Frankenstein is back, having once again clawed its way through the dirt and hoisted its sorry arse out of the grave for another round of corporate humiliation. The promise of a revival—a new dawn led by the artful dodger Les Edgar—never materialised. Edgar and his posse of fantasists spoke vividly of a back-to-the-future, old-school V8 block powering a dream that has become… just another unfulfilled fantasy.

TVR’s Russian-roulette revival began ten years ago. It never sounded right from the beginning, and after all the talk, there is nothing to show for it but a show car and a website. TVR revealed plans to move into a 15,000 sq ft facility—bigger than the 12,000 sq ft assembly line used by Lotus in Norfolk.

Why does an ultra-low-volume manufacturer like TVR need such an oversized production facility? To grow weed? That was the moment the TVR grift began to unravel—along with watching Les Edgar give interviews. Always be wary of smooth talkers, folks; that’s all I’ll say.

In the ten years since its relaunch under new British grifters, TVR has done little more than take deposits through its website—from the believers, the followers, the gullible. After stumbling around in the dark, looking for the light switch, TVR entered into a strange deal with an obscure Argentinian metals business.

A new timeline was set, the believers rebooted their belief… and nothing happened. Again. Now TVR has tumbled into a complex merger with a British outfit called Charge Holdings, which technically owns the brand. Whether money, shares, or magic beans were exchanged remains unclear, but the whole affair whiffs faintly of week-old fish.

But anyway, the upshot is: TVR is back, baby! Charge Holdings plans to make TVR wholly British again and go electric. The immediate plan is to build that V8 Griffith grift that was promised ten years ago.

The new leadership team includes people from Apple, McLaren, and Ferrari—which means, if nothing else, Frankenstein might finally sit bolt upright and manage a wry, slightly confused smile.

Evening all…