6 classics that don’t match their mythology
Anyone who’s ever read a comment section online knows that there’s no shortage of “expert” opinion out there extolling the virtues and vices of our favorite rides. Much of it is based on second- and third-hand experience, or even outright hearsay. That doesn’t stop the momentum from building, though, and before long a car gains a reputation that may or may not accurately represent the actual ownership experience. After having 40+ cars pass through my often-undeserving hands, I’ve developed a few opinions of my own, often running contrary to conventional wisdom.
1963 Buick Riviera
I’ll concede I’m probably not the target market for a first-gen Riv. Floating down a perfectly paved freeway for hours on end isn’t what I’d choose to do behind the wheel, even if I knew of a such a road anywhere near me. But that’s what the Riviera excelled at, sort of. Its undulating ride was more disconcerting than cruise-worthy. It had the turning radius of a city bus, and its puny brakes may have set a postwar record for largest inverse relationship between horsepower and stopping ability. And don’t get me started on the numb power steering. While the Riviera was certainly attractive, as a driver, it fell miles short of Bill Mitchell’s aspiration to build an American Ferrari. I sorely wish that Mr. Mitchell had been able to pry some brake, steering and suspension mojo from the excellent C2 Corvette. Sleek styling wasn’t enough to forgive its ills, so I’m forced to say the Riviera is overrated.
1965 Jaguar E-type
The Series I E-type is undoubtedly a good-looking car, regardless of whether or not you believe the story of Enzo Ferrari calling it the most beautiful car he’d ever seen. What is rarely talked about is how well the car drives, even by modern standards. It’s the opposite of the Riviera in that its chassis dynamics were commensurate with its good looks.
The Jag’s rack and pinion steering is delightful, communicative, and precise. Power assist isn’t even needed. The post-1964 all-synchro four-speed is a joy to shift, and its 4.2-liter dual-overhead cam straight six, while not rev-happy, makes good torque and more than adequate power. That said, I suspect its advertised 265 hp may have been a touch ambitious. No matter, at just under 2,900 lbs., it was good for 0-60 in about seven seconds. D-Type-inspired four-wheel disc brakes were good for the time, and while the car was set up more for GT-style driving than track-ready handling, if you could deal with the body roll, you could have fun exploiting the car’s power and near 50/50 weight distribution.
The car isn’t without its peccadilloes, particularly with regard to its electrical system. But ultimately, when you look at values of its more exotic competition relative to their performance and livability, The E-Type begins to shine. For that reason, I find this cat a bit underrated.
1971 Datsun 240Z
I’ve owned four first-generation Z cars, though I’ve never kept one for a long time. There’s a reason for that: of any car I’ve owned, the corner-cutting to achieve a bargain base price is most evident in a Z. There’s almost no sound deadening to be found anywhere in the car, from the floors to the lightly padded, vinyl headliner, and as a result the freeway drone is maddening. In addition to the gratuitous noise (I will admit that the actual exhaust note is pleasing), in any significant crosswind, the early Z’s freeway wander is downright scary. The BRE front spoiler helps, if only a little. Inside, the plastic quality is backyard kiddie-pool spec.
I suppose it’s not really the car’s fault—it’s so pretty, and it handles and performs so much above its class that you expect the details to be as nice as a Porsche 911. They’re not, so I’ve always considered the Z to be a bit overrated.
1979 Porsche 924
If ever there was a car for which I had low expectations, this was it. I’m a multiple 911 owner, and before this car, I’d never owned any flavor of transaxle Porsche—certainly not the one deemed to be the worst of them, the original Audi-powered 924. I bought the car for $2,000 to do a “2,000 miles in a $2,000 Porsche” story for the magazine that I edit, Porsche Panorama. It was a middling road trip story at best, mostly because the car gave me zero material to work with. Nothing broke, though if it had, I think I could have solved most of it on the roadside because of the car’s inherent simplicity. Was it a little buzzy and underpowered? Yes, but the car’s beautiful balance, solid build, and sturdy honesty made up for that. As did its attention to aerodynamics, which gifted the 924 a lack of wind noise and near 30-mpg thrift on 87 octane fuel. Subjectively, I also found it quite pretty. The 924 surprised me in the best ways, and since then, I’ve considered it the essence of an underrated car.
1975 BMW 2002
My 2002 was the exact opposite of the 924. The little Bimmer was a car for which I had huge expectations, most of which went unfulfilled, particularly in light of David E. Davis Jr.’s assessment that the BMW 2002 was the best way to get somewhere sitting down. It’s not that there weren’t any positives. The 2002’s driving position and outward visibility were top notch, but I found the car to be buzzy and underpowered in a far more egregious way than I found the 924. The lack of fuel injection combined with crude emission controls made for annoying flat-spots in the power curve. The car’s ventilation is largely theoretical—no face level dash vents at all, just ancient vent and quarter windows, and a sunroof if you’re lucky. The fake wood applique on the dash reminded me of a VW Scirocco. The steering that I expected to be super-quick was somewhat heavy and a little dead on center. Truth be told, by the time my 2002 was built, it was a fairly ancient design, and the injected 2002 tii was the spec that you really wanted. That said, I found the 2002 to be a generally overrated car.
1968 MGC GT
I actually had the experience of owning an MGC and a Datsun 240Z at the same time. Odd, because the C is the car that the Z wiped off the face of the earth. The MGC is the rare, six-cylinder version of the MGB that was deemed in-period to be an utterly inferior car to the Japanese upstart. I didn’t find that to be the case. In spite of their wildly differing reputations for quality, the MG felt more expensive in every way—the seats were covered in good-smelling leather, the chrome-ringed Smiths gauges looked nicer, and the whole car just felt more solid. As a freeway cruiser, there was no contest—the MG was somehow nearly impervious to crosswinds, something I discovered when I got caught in 65 mph gale-force winds on I-5 in between Seattle and Portland. With the overdrive engaged in fourth gear, it was also much more relaxed at speed than the Z. With its independent rear suspension, the Z was a better handler, but with the proper tire pressures (this is critical for the slightly nose-heavy MG), the C was no slouch either. On the whole, I found the MGC GT to be vastly underrated.
What about you—did your time in one of these cars dissuade you from the mythology that surrounds it, or confirm its greatness? Which car have you owned that provided the biggest contrast to how it’s perceived?
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I owned a BMW 1600 which pre-dated the 2002, but used the same body and chassis. When it worked it was a great drive, handled well, and fast enough for its era. But there were some egregious quality issues, and I ended up spending more in repairs than the car cost. Also it had a 6 volt battery (I think the 2002 went to 12 volt) and so had trouble starting in the cold. I would have to say the quality was overacted.
I tried to fall in love with the Infinit J30. I thought it was really beautiful, and the quality of build was incredible. The welds on a replacement muffler were like on a piece of sculpture, there were spirit levels built into the headlights for aligning, the stereo, leather, wood all beautiful done. Having said that, handling in the rain was terrifying, the sunroof never functioned properly, but worst of all, I never could get comfortable in the seats, and long trips were painful. So as I said, I tried to love this car but was happy to see it go away, I traded it in during the “cash for clunkers” program, and was much more comfortable in the seats of a humble Honda Fit.
The Riviera had great styling but I would not want to drive one on an extended period with it’s driving dynamics.
I have driven and owned quite a few cars that surprised me both good and bad. I grew up salivating over Porsche, until I drove a 911. Then I thought I wanted a Mustang, until I drove a couple. But, I owned several cars because I was able to buy them cheap, and I have been shocked about what a great car they were, despite how bad everyone said they were. A 1989 Pontiac LeMans – obviously not a sports car, was one of the worst rated econoboxes available, but it was cheap. It got 45 mpg without the a/c on, and I never had any problem with it, and it was easy to maintain. A 1964 Imperial – of course, very nice car, without a bad reputation. But it amazed me at what a pleasure to drive it is. As easy to drive this, one of the biggest cars ever built, is easier to drive than most much smaller cars. A 2004 Plymouth Sundance Duster – great little car, great gas mileage, surprising power, very useful with folding back seat and hatchback style rear gate (more room than most small SUVs). I put over 250k miles on it before some jerk ran a red light and plowed into me.
My brother and I turned our father’s 1965 Riviera into a tow car . Pulling our homemade trailer loaded with our Austin Healey Sprite race car we headed to our first SCCA drivers school. We immediately found the coil rear suspension not ideal for towing . Going down I80 the trailer would start to dance side to side while the rear end of the Riv sent the motion forward . Only two ways to stop it stomp on the brakes or stomp on the gas . It was also a very uncomfortable car to sleep in with the full length center console . On under appropriated cars a nice ( rare ) Jensen Healey is a great value . Plenty of power ,great neutral handling , plus a modern comfortable cockpit.
Riviera was not made to be a “tow car” or a place to sleep. Try a motel.
What is it with all these foreign obscure hardly owned car reviews! Can we stick to at least 70/30 American to foreign instead of the other way around!
Rob, Rob, Rob… only a poor workman blames his tools. You foolishly drove the version of the BMW 2002 universally acknowledged by the ‘02 community to be the absolute worst iteration of the model, and then disparage the entire model run. I have owned and driven at least a dozen round tail light tii’s over the past several decades. Other than the ventilation anomalies – which we all acknowledge – your experience does not comport with the reality of a well-sorted, fuel-injected, non-emission burdened 2002. In contrast it is interesting that you picked the extreme cream of the MG crop to label as underrated. But you are entitled to your own, uninformed opinion nonetheless.
UNFORTUNATELY you missed the mark with your comments on the 1963 Riviera ( I own one). It was never meant to be an American Ferrari. It was supposed to be a PERSONAL LUXURY CAR. And it was. This was a car that was considered by many to be an important car. It was in the same class as the future Eldorado (1967), Tornado (1966), and Grand Prix. These were GM’s personal luxury cars of the era. If you want a nimble car with a small turning radius…buy a sports car.
Had a brand spanking new 1969 Lotus Elan S3. The most appropriate word to describe it would be “psychotic”. If I were to use more words, it would be “utterly psychotic”. Things went wrong with it that I have never seen on any car before or since. The radiator fan was plastic, when you revved it up, the blades would flex and hit the radiator. The pop-up headlights were vacuum operated, they’d move up and down depending on the engine speed. That got interesting driving at night. The power windows (because Lotus was convinced that the ham-handed colonials would wreck the tissue-paper thin fiberglass – er, fibreglass – doors if they fitted manual winders) had stainless steel cables which were 1/16″ too short, and you can’t solder to stainless steel to put an extension on them. The clutch was like a light switch, on or off, almost nothing in between. That got interesting as the rubber flex rings in the rear suspension (I forget what they are called, probably repressing it, “Rotoflex”, I think) loaded and unloaded, propelling the car forward in a series of increasingly violent jerks and lurches until you learned *exactly* how to feather the clutch. Once the car did decide to launch, it did so with a lunatic frenzy that made Hunter Thompson’s drug fueled ride to Las Vegas look like a geriatric snooze-fest in comparison. Handling was superb, I regularly took highway exits at three times the posted speed. Reliability, however, was another story. It ran about once a payment, and usually just before the payment was due because it KNEW if it didn’t run *when* the payment was due, it was going to be sold. Or torched. When it did run, it was like a complete raving maniac, jumping up and down, frothing at the radiator, parts falling off and flapping in the breeze, and evidently fueled by automotive industrial grade meth. Lotta fun, but a tad wearying after a while. (“1,000 ccs of Demerol please, nurse. If that won’t do it, double the dose.”)
“L.O.T.U.S. = Lots of Trouble, Usually Serious”. – Jermy Clarkson
Mom’s 90 or 91 Accord was a sweet car. That manual transmission shifted great, it rode great, munched down highways miles… was just a great car. Fun to drive.
Rob, RIGHT ON!! Got my driver’s license in 1958 and have driven/owned many of the cars you discussed. You and I are in exact alignment! Your comments and thoughts are MINE. Thanks for your expertise.
I am very familiar with the 240Z and MGs, though I have never had an MGC. I drove these cars in the late 1970s and early 1980s, when they were about 10 years old. I think you missed the mark on the 240Z. It is a great car, and it was built, marketed and priced for what it was. Why would you expect a more luxurious Z car at that time? Its successive models, 280Z and ZX are more refined versions.
And for all the grief people want to pile on the British Leyland products, I never had any serious problems. My biggest and most frequently replaced item in any of my British cars was the turn signal switch. The MGC would have had the advantage of its lineage that the 240Z did not.
This is why I like to restomod my classic cars. In original form they may be more valuable but you have to live with the shortcomings the factory gave you. My 70Z has a much better suspension now, better electronics by way of auto meter gauges, front stiff fiberglass air dam with rear spoiler and now handles and feels planted at higher speeds. Don’t forget better more modern brake setup as well. I now have the classic look but with all the upgrades it’s more enjoyable to drive. In the future, properly setup restomods will be the way to go if you want to actually drive regularly.
Ha! Cars guys getting worked up on an opinion piece. Shocker! My buddy had a 924 & I loved it! Of course I did because I was a diehard VW guy that wanted (still want) a Porsche (never owned one). I was young & still sporting my MK1 VW Scirocco S when I was allowed to drive his 924 & it was awesome because it was a Porsche. I loved (& would still love to own again) my MK1 Scirocco & everybody in gearhead land knows those are crap. It nickled & dimed my broke teenage butt nearly to death but I learned so much working on it & when it worked properly, I loved it. Anyway, my later years found me in an NA miata that had been turbocharged. While working on the many iterations of the masterpiece I was hoping to turn that car into I bought an all stock NA miata to actually get around in when it rained so I could forgo the gearing up for rain that was required for riding my motorcycle back & forth to work. Well, the fan boys will recite the saying “miata is always the answer” because they’re easily made the way they should’ve come from the factory with the thriving aftermarket but even stock, what a joy to drive. Totally underpowered, good brakes, incredibly precise steering and the shifter for the transmission is like butter. Once you wound up the tiny 1.6L, the car handled very well despite the body roll. Saldly, I can’t speak to any car referred to in the piece other than the 924 since it’s the only one I’ve ever driven. I rode in a 240Z with my neighbor friend’s older brother and, since Jimmy was a crazy teenager that bought the Z after totaling his amazing Chevelle & I wasn’t old enough to drive, I was very impressed. I’ve been a BMW fan since I can remember as my good friend from high school has owned nothing else (except a truck to haul his BMW racecars). My two BMW loves are the 635csi & the 2002 & I’ve owned neither, they are just gorgeous to me. I have owned an E30 325i & an E23 735i & they both drove nice but were a bit heavy on the maintenance. Full disclosure, the E30 was not all stock but the engine was & the E23 had an slush box, which was the source of my frustration. Guess what though, these are all MY opinions & your mileage may indeed vary!
My brother had an MGC (non-GT) with I think a Borg-Warner automatic. The drivetrain weighed a ton, and parts were pricey. We bought an expensive water pump for it that failed in a few months. I got two pieces of 1/4 inch steel, cut out patterns for the old pump and a similarly- outletted and height toyota pump and brazed them together as an adapter. Car ran as cool as a cucumber after that. It’s probably still out there somewhere with a confused owner.
As the author noted in his opening paragraph, “there’s no shortage of “expert” opinion“ & his opinions have been expressed. Being an “expert” in my own right, I have my own opinion regarding my ‘84 Buick Riviera. It puts a smile on my face when I’m driving it & that’s the only “opinion” that matters to me! Drive on!!