XtremeMaC
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Top Gear's Toyota Supra mega-test!
Intro: Toyota Supra or BMW Z4: which one would you choose?
1. Supra vs BMW Z4
2. Supra vs Cayman GTS
3. Supra vs Alpine A110
4. Supra vs BMW M2
5. Supra's numbers (0-60 performance comparison)
Part 1: Supra vs Z4
Intro: Toyota Supra or BMW Z4: which one would you choose?
1. Supra vs BMW Z4
2. Supra vs Cayman GTS
3. Supra vs Alpine A110
4. Supra vs BMW M2
5. Supra's numbers (0-60 performance comparison)
Part 1: Supra vs Z4
Part 2: Supra vs Cayman GTS
Never before have two cars been mentioned in the same breath more often. Supra and Z4, or âZupraâ if you ask the wittier corners of the Top Gear office. We all know the story by now: Toyota wanted to revive the Supra badge but needed a partner to make it financially viable. BMW had the straight-six engine Toyota needed, wanted to keep their Z4 alive, and fancied saving a few quid themselves. So Toyota and BMW butted heads for a bit, defined the chassis, engine, gearbox and electronics that BMW were putting on the table, stuffed them in a couple of wheely bags and parted ways to go and meet their separate briefs. Bit like an automotive Ready, Steady, Cook.
But hereâs the thing. This might seem like the most obvious twin test in the world â who built a better sports car from the same box of bits, Toyota or BMW? - but meaningful head to heads are supposed to compare two cars that overlap in terms of price, power and function, in the hope it offers buyers in that nook of the market some assistance. But I canât see anyone cross-shopping between a Supra and a Z4, because despite being grown from the same seedlings, the differences are deeper than one has a roof, the other doesnât â theyâre philosophically polar opposite. This comparison then is more out of curiosity, than necessity.
Toyota could have called this car a Celica, but it didnât, itâs a Supra, and that carries a weight of expectation that itâs built by driving enthusiasts, for driving enthusiasts. People that buy a Supra want everyone to know they know their cars, and how they accelerate, handle and sound matters. The Z4 on the other hand carries no such baggage â quite bizzarely really given itâs a sports car from a company obsessed with the art of driving fast. The Z4 is a device for looking flash, travelling swiftly and with just enough handling chops to make the most of a good road should one present itself.
Letâs start with the powertrains â because despite Toyota claiming this 335bhp 3.0-litre turbo straight-six has been tuned to their specifications it feels identical to the Z4. Smooth, cultured, brimming with muscle, but out of puff beyond 6,000rpm. Itâs a superb engine by any measure and knocks most four-cylinders for six, but has the same character in both cars. Same goes for the gearbox â itâs smooth enough, but very⊠like the BMWâs. I would like to have seen a manual offered in the Toyota if Iâm honest, itâs the one historical Supra touchpoint left unchecked.
The Z4âs design doesnât mean anything to me, it doesnât move me⊠but the Supra does
Strangely then, the powertrain isnât the Supraâs main event, itâs the styling. Makes sense I suppose, the one bit Toyota had total control over they went berserk with. Parked next to each other the BMW has a more middle of the road appeal, which is a nice way of saying it has a face only a mother could love, while the Supra with its angry expression and muscled rear is unashamedly in your face. Perhaps itâs the hint of 2000GT - Japanâs first proper supercar - in the long bonnet, or whispers of the last-gen A80 Supra in the front and rear, or the utter madness of that multi-layered rear end, but for some reason the Z4âs design doesnât mean anything to me, it doesnât move me⊠but the Supra does.
The Supraâs interior cleaves opinion down the middle. Half are grateful that the glut of BMW hardware on show means better quality than any other Toyota on sale, the other half physically wounded that Toyota didnât take the time or money to disguise it more carefully. Iâm more interested to discover that not only has BMW given Toyota swathes of switches and screens⊠it appears to have given them the old ones they had lying around. The Z4âs interior feels a generation on. Sneaky. On closer inspection they are running the same screen, knobs and dials, but BMW has taken the time to dress them up in more brushed aluminium and several acres of knurling â visual confirmation of where BMW thinks its customerâs priorities lie.
In terms of the handling, the Supraâs just so sure-footed, broad-shouldered, stable on the road⊠and plenty of other clichĂ©s if I can think of them. Basically a really good balance between refinement and accuracy - yes, itâs happy doing third-gear drifts on a track, but really this an excellent road car at heart. Itâs realistically rapid. The steering isnât loaded with feel like an Alpine, but itâs precise enough and the body shell is actually stiffer than the LFA, so Toyota isnât messing about here. Itâs not the most agile or exciting car in a class that contains greats like the Cayman and Alpine, but itâs an accomplished all-rounder nonetheless.
Whatâs fascinating is how BMW can take the same building blocks and produce something so devoid of fun. When God was handing out sense of humours, the Z4 slept through its alarm. Itâs a softer set-up, so it glides over bumps where the Supra shimmies, but besides having a generous amount of power under your right foot, thereâs no one component that grabs you by the scruff and asks you to do anything other than sit back and cruise. And for a sportscar wearing a BMW badge, thatâs a crying shame. Iâll pay the extra few grand and take a Supra, thanks.
Part 3: Supra vs Alpine A110TG's Toyota Supra mega-test pt2: Supra vs Porsche Cayman
Part 2 of 4 sees Supra take on one of the very best
Something unusual happened on the launch of the Toyota Supra in Spain a few weeks back. Tetsuya Tada, the Supraâs chief engineer, openly expressed his admiration for Porsche. This doesnât happen. Representatives from one company scrupulously avoid talking about anotherâs product, let alone praise it. Yet here was Tada-san saying he admired Porscheâs attention to detail, citing an instance where he knows they made a minute adjustment to the brake software, and openly saying he was disappointed Porsche had moved away from the flat six to the turbo four, but that the Cayman was still the only rival that mattered, the car they had benchmarked.
He was pricking the balloon. Until he mentioned it, the Cayman was the tensioned elephant in the room. Of course it was. The Cayman is the default answer to every âI want a proper sports carâ question (at least it was until they threw out the flat six and replaced it with a turbo four). Did he believe, I asked him, that he had built a better sports car than the Cayman? The usual pragmatic answers: itâs nice to be considered alongside it, itâs a shame theyâve lost the six cylinder, we have done our best. But behind it, a quiet confidence.
Now we find out if it was misplaced. Here we have the top Cayman, the GTS. Itâs not the most direct rival â thatâll be the ÂŁ53,030, 345bhp Cayman S â instead this is the ultimate: ÂŁ59,866, 360bhp version, complete with an alphabeti-spaghetti of acronyms: PASM adaptive dampers, PTV torque vectoring, DFI, VTG, PSM (not the same as PASM), PCM, PVTS Plus. You get the picture. All the letters have been thrown at the GTS, plus 10mm lower springs, dynamic transmission mounts, a driving mode dial and Sport Chrono with launch control. Youâd imagine that would be it for options. But no, as tested this is a ÂŁ76,000 car. Ouch.
The ÂŁ54,000 Supra Proâs paint costs ÂŁ620. Thatâs it. No other options, but it gets heated and cooled seats, rear camera, wireless charging and a kick-arse JBL sound system. Itâs not lacking for stuff. It gives away power to the Cayman, but fights back with vastly more torque â 369lb ft plays 310. But then it has an extra 120kg to get moving compared to the 1,375kg Porsche.
Enough stats â they tell so little of this story. Weâre at Llandow, a small track in South Wales. I doubt very much whether the average Supra owner will ever take their car on track, but they should because the Supra likes tracks. The rear end is well supported, so it doesnât sag, squat or squirm when youâre hard on the power out of tight corners. And the rear works harmoniously with the precise, confidence-inspiring front. Itâs not the last word in steering feel, but you know where you are with it because the chassis communicates. Itâs biddable, rarely understeers, readily oversteers, but after a few laps the brakes start to go and you realise the gearbox and engine arenât the sharpest. Itâs what you might call an âold-school entertainerâ, i.e. you sit a long way back, closer physically and mechanically to the rear axle than the front, in a car that likes it best when itâs pitched into a corner then driven through on the throttle.
The Porsche is mid-engined. You knew that already but itâs worth repeating, because the carâs whole pivot point and balance is different. Pitch this one in hard and youâll be lucky not to spin. Thereâs less roll, you seem to sit lower, closer to the nose of the car which enhances the sensations and immediacy, and the Cayman is more adjustable through a long corner. Thereâs a bit more to the experience, you have to dig a bit deeper, spend a bit longer with it. Want accessible fun and a yee-ha powerslide? Have the Supra. Want a car that takes more unearthing, a comet with a longer tail? Thatâs the Porsche.
We head into the hills after Llandow and Iâm in the Porsche. Chiefly because on my 120 mile drive to the circuit that morning, the Supraâs refinement and comfort had impressed me and I want to see how the Cayman compares. Thereâs more road noise â a surprising amount of intrusion in fact â but the suspension is compliant, the steering undistracted. Yes, the manual gearbox keeps you busier, but after no more than a few minutes it becomes part of the routine, as simple to integrate into the driving as a glance in the mirror, and far more satisfying.
Iâm sorry, but I still canât forgive Porsche this four cylinder
What I love about the Cayman is just using it. Thereâs an oily precision to every control, where everything operates so harmoniously that youâre not sure where gearbox ends and clutch begins, where suspension ends and steering begins. This sense of oneness, of mechanical completeness, sets the Cayman apart. Itâs tactile and engaging at any speed, and on the busy valley roads south of the Brecon Beacons itâs a content companion.
But then we climb and the engines are put to work and, Iâm sorry, but I still canât forgive Porsche this four cylinder. It sounds thrummy and coarse, a square peg to the Caymanâs round hole mechanical make-up. I switch back to the Supra. It plays a hearty, lusty tune. Better definitely, but I still have issues with it because that noise, right at the heart of the car, is pure BMW. And it sounds wrong somehow.
As with the Cayman I try to ignore it, even though it plays a much richer tune. Will it bother owners? Only if they a) currently drive a six cylinder BMW or b) have intimate knowledge of the old Supraâs 2JZ engine. The floating voter, the buyer who just wants a good, swift coupe and doesnât care about the background, is going to enjoy the Supra. Are there many of them out there, though? The early adopters want this car because of its heritage. But by sharing the project with BMW and using so many BMW parts, Toyota has comprehensively undermined that.
Once again, itâs a smooth car to operate. Itâs best in Sport mode which sharpens the throttle for pulling away, and with torque peaking at only 1,600rpm, itâs effortlessly rapid. The Cayman has to work harder for its speed â not that itâs any slower. I timed both to 100mph in 9.6secs, the Toyota quicker off the mark (0.4secs faster to 60mph at 4.0secs), the Porsche quicker north of that. Both fast cars with more than enough speed to whip past slower traffic. Not much to separate them on economy, either. We got 27.4mpg from the Cayman, with the Supra recording 26.8mpg.
If the Supra had a Toyota interior weâd be giving it a shoeing. Instead itâs easy to get on with and nicely made from quality materials. An interior thatâs commensurate with its cost. Itâs a more practical car than the Cayman too â one big, hatchback-accessed boot instead of a smaller one at either end.
There are no jarring edges to the Supra experience â Toyota has rounded them off. It does very little wrong indeed: itâs better to drive than the Z4 on which itâs based, itâs fast, punchy and if you like the long bonnet, short tail layout - so the nose swivels in to corners a long way ahead and youâre following behind, sat atop the rear axle like a charioteer - youâll love the Supra. Itâs good-looking, it chomps through distance happily, you know it wonât miss a beat and I reckon itâll be even easier than the Porsche to live with.
As a daily sports car that makes it pretty compelling. I wouldnât have a go at you at all, if, having weighed them up, you came down Supra-side. But we really care about driving, donât we? Not just handling, but mechanical interaction, and itâs that nuance and depth, the long-term satisfaction of owning such a beautifully honed car, the engineering expertise (excuse the engine) that shines through every time you start moving in it, that gives the Cayman the edge.
Part 4: Supra vs M2TG's Toyota Supra mega-test pt3: Supra vs Alpine A110
Lightweight, 250bhp Alpine takes on middleweight, 335bhp 'Zupra'
Make no mistake â thereâs a battle going on for what makes a car a success. But itâs not so much a war of words as it is a bleeding-knuckles, last-man-standing melee between words and numbers. Itâs âlightnessâ versus â789bhpâ, âdeftnessâ vs â0-62 in 2.9â and âfunâ vs â1.4gâ.
And itâs a war that numbers seem to be winning â we live in an age where new performance saloons need 600bhp before we take them seriously, where 700bhp is the supposed sweet spot for supercars and where we can discuss cars with four-figure power outputs without blanching. So when the new Toyota Supra came along with 335bhp, itâs fair to say that the proverbial needle scratched on the proverbial record, and the proverbial hipster complained because he just paid ÂŁ50 for it over at Rough Trade Records.
Those with a long enough memory (or access to the internet) will know that the last-gen Supra had about 325bhp when driven off the dealer forecourt, and about 600bhp every day afterwards. So how does the new Supra come along, 17 years later, with just 335 horsepower?
Well, mark this moment: words, and everything they signify, are fighting back. It started with the Alpine A110 and continues in the Supra, where words like âfeelâ, âexperienceâ and âenjoymentâ are given more credence than boastable power and torque figures. Itâs 100 per cent⊠er, absolutely a trend we can get behind.
Not that the Supra isnât quick. Because of the smooth and unstressed feel of the engine, gearbox and suspension â and judicious attention to NVH â velocity gathers in a way that isnât matched by sensation. Much bigger numbers appear on the carâs speedometer than in your internal one, both on the straights and around any corner youâre comfortable piloting this car. The front end has immediate purchase, acres of grip and seemingly zero latency, so itâs just a matter of looking where you want to go, turning the wheel and following your nose through the corner.
Itâll also cruise without care and match your heroics as much as you dare â cue a few subtlety-free laps around Llandow circuit, the sounds of shredding tyres overcoming the silence of south Wales. Itâs a simple thrill, but also an evergreen one.
The Alpineâs lower power and torque, combined with its mid-engined balance and mesmerically good suspension setup mean that Supra-matching heroics take more than slow in, power on and countersteer out. If anything, coaxing and provoking the Alpine around a track is more fun than in anything chest-thumpingly overpowered. And, as it turns out, more fun than the Supra, too. Everything matters in the A110: how you brake, accelerate and steer is reflected and displayed in utter detail. Lift off the throttle ever so slightly mid-corner and feel it tuck in at the front. Jink the steering wheel a little to feel the back end get lively. Lift off and jink for a big rotation and then power out with a life-affirming level of oversteer if you get it right â or a nerve-racking tank slapper if you get it wrong. I experience both.
The Supraâs styling follows the Grand Tourer Proportional Instructionsâą to the letter: long bonnet, two doors and a pert rear end
The Alpine is always rewarding. Itâs rewarding to drive normally, it rewards neat, clean, skilful driving with neat, clean and skilful handling, and it rewards hubris with a potent lesson in humility. Donât confuse 1.8 litres of engine and 250 horsesâ worth of motivation with any idea that the A110âs some kind of âmy first sports carâ, filled with softness and forgiveness â this thing is mid-engined and comes from a company thatâs won World Rally Championships. A few moderately fish-taily laps in the A110 and adrenaline has reduced me from a fully grown, fattish man into a breathless, quivering whippet. Time to pull in and take in the finer details.
The interior of the Alpine feels so special â itâs a low-volume sports coupe and feels every bit as exceptional as that phrase implies. The Supra feels like a pleasant, BMW-engineered coupe, with a deep, dark feel in the cockpit and some incongruous Toyota badges. The A110âs raised centre bar, quilted accents and brushed aluminium vault its cabin above the mass-market feel of the Supra.
Outside all I can think is how desperately gorgeous the Alpine is, how unique in form and proportion. The Supraâs styling, while unique in its execution, follows the Grand Tourer Proportional Instructionsâą to the letter: long bonnet, two doors and a pert rear end. But thatâs fair; these cars approach from different origins and, in the main, pursue different goals. The Supra, with its phallic proportions, deep cockpit, big boot and smooth eight-speed auto is a grand-tourer-cum-sports-coupe. Think of it more like a cheaper, less histrionic (and yes, less desirable) Ferrari 550 and you wouldnât be too far off the mark. Also, itâs worth pointing out to any number jockeys out there that the A90 Supra will beat the 550 in a 0-62 drag race. Sorry, tifosiâŠ
The Alpine, on the other hand, is custom-made (literally) to be a small, fun and hilariously entertaining sports coupe. And it succeeds in incredible fashion. The way its lightness and deftness infuse every aspect of the A110 immediately vaults it into my personal pantheon of all-time driving greats. Hardly a surprise â this is the same car that won our Performance Car of the Year in 2018 and has made fanatics of the otherwise laissez-faire.
Both Toyota and Alpine succeed in their goals â the Supra is a properly good, sporty GT: soft, comfortable, controlled and faster than youâd ever give it credit for. The A110 is an unerring joy in every situation, and, it seems, easy enough to wax on about until you become more candle than man. But can they possibly win a victory for words against a tidal wave of Top-Trumps performance cars? The Supra and A110 wade in against a barrage of figures that not only lead the conversation around cars, but also our understanding of what makes a car good or bad. The good news is that both the Alpine and Supra fight back against numbers, and both succeed. The bad news â for Toyota â is that the Supraâs win over numbers doesnât translate into a win against the Alpine, or a tick of approval without hesitancy.
In the Nineties, the Supra, together with the Honda NSX and Nissan GT-R, helped debunk the myth that supercar speed and ability meant a) European, b) incredible expense and c) an ownership experience only slightly more painful than a pair of sea urchin flip-flops. Today, the Alpine debunks the idea that unholy amounts of power, grip and speed should define the sports car experience â or, to put it another way, that numerical advantages translate into real-world benefits.
This could have been what the Supra achieved too, were it not so closely tied to the Z4, a middle-of-the-road convertible that takes no risks and challenges no conventions. The Supra name has returned after all this time as a fast, enjoyable coupe, and thatâs commendable in the fun-sponge world. But the A110 is the game-changer of this generation, the vanguard in the battle of words and numbers. Itâs the car that made me take the long way home. A drive that was emphatically not about the extra numbers on the odometer, but the words I used to describe it when I got home.
Part 5 Supra's NumbersTG's Toyota Supra mega-test pt4: Supra vs BMW M2
The final part of our Supra showdown includes BMW's M2 Competition
Earlier this week, the Zupra zaw off the BMW Z4. Apologies. That didnât surprise me. I suspect that BMW never realised it was in a deadly head-to-head with Toyota â The Germans were just going through the motions of creating another roadster, while the Japanese were in a desperate need to prove themselves. Not only must their car be better than the Z4 (the humiliation if BMW built a roadster that out-handled Toyotaâs comeback coupe), but it needed to be strong enough to assuage the firmâs inability to create this car itself. And thatâs a much tougher, more open-ended, philosophical task.
With the parts theyâve used Toyota has done a bang up job. The crux here are those few words: âwith the parts they usedâ. Because BMW isnât in the business of auctioning off the crown jewels. Toyota got the same 3.0-litre straight six turbo you find in everything from the 1-Series to the X5. It got the eight-speed ZF gearbox. Thatâs in just about everything BMW sells, plus most Land Rovers, Jaguars, Audis and so on. Good, but hardly exclusive. What it didnât get was the special stuff.
Near the outset of the joint project, BMWâs representatives apparently confided to Toyota that theyâd never done a sports car before. This had me stumped for a while. But then I realised â no, of course not, because thatâs not BMWâs job.
Thatâs M divisionâs job. As it happens theyâre pretty good at it. So here the 3.0-litre turbo 8spd auto Supra goes up against the 3.0-litre twin turbo, 7spd DCT twin clutch BMW M2 Competition â a veritable look-at-what-you-could-have-had of special stuff. And perhaps more remarkably, for less money. ÂŁ51,030 plays ÂŁ54,000 for the Pro spec GR Supra (although you can guess which one offers more kit for the cash).
Statically both have some visual force. You notice the Toyota from a long way away â itâs low and red so of course you do â but closer up the exaggerated curves keep the eye busy. The BMW is a simpler structure, a three box, two door, four seat coupe. The impact comes from lower down: this car has stance.
Itâs like BMW designed the bodywork, looked at it and went, âright, now we make it drive like thatâ. Because thatâs exactly what it does. It feels very broad shouldered, doesnât roll much, is stiff, connected and direct. Until the tyres get heat thereâs not much traction and even when they do you need to be on your game, because this is a snatchier car at the limit than the Toyota.
The Supra is calmer and more benign. Roll is really well managed and communicates available grip well and the whole car is more laid back on track, even when you really get on it. If you do, itâs not quite as tight and together as the BMW, eventually struggling for body control and brake bite. Up to 80-90 per cent itâs bloody good though, the steering (wouldnât mind more weight) is accurate and itâs much less intimidating than the BMW. The pleasures are simpler, more easily accessed. Although the wheelbase is short, Toyota has pulled off the neat trick of not only making the Supra agile on the way into corners, but stable on the way through and out. Traction betters the BMW on all corners, fast and slow.
The Supra is a one-trick pony: the turbo blows, force arrives, then it tails off
But what you donât get is the same direct link between input and reaction. Thereâs a slight delay while the suspension compresses or the turbo picks up or the gearbox gets the shift done. Everything in the BMW happens with more urgency. It goads you into misbehaving and on a circuit that means itâs pure hooligan fun. It also reminds you just how much more impactful and exciting a twin clutch gearbox and 404bhp/405lb ft twin turbo M engine are than the Toyotaâs auto/single turbo set-up. Itâs not slow the Toyota, and it makes a nice enough noise, but the M2âs powertrain gets under your collar in a way the Supraâs just doesnât.
I really enjoy the way it goes down the road, properly energetic, a bit stroppy and hurled along by the best motor. The Supra is a one-trick pony: the turbo blows, force arrives, then it tails off. Not much point using anything beyond 5,500rpm as thereâs so little reward and torque tails off. The M2 has more range, more bite, more charisma. Good grunt low down, rasping soundtrack, a hard kick at four-and-a-bit, a mighty lunge to the 8,000rpm limiter, and a whipcrack upshift. Itâs addictive. I find myself going slowly just so I can accelerate up through the gears, then use the brakes to slow. And repeat. And again. Not that the brakes are that impressive â for M Sport stoppers they need more pedal feel.
Does the BMW know how to back off and behave? Mostly. Itâs just that you donât want it to because itâs playful and aggressive and youâre having a great time. OK, it will do the daily grind stuff, but the gearbox complains at low speed, the diff is very tight on mini-roundabouts and the ride never less than positive. Itâs a busy car. But you bought a sports car so what did you expect? Itâs got personality, thatâs for sure.
And I reckon thatâs the one thing the Supra lacks. Technically itâs very proficient, but during the process of going to BMW cap-in-hand, coming away pushing a branded trolley filled to the brim with every component needed to build their new car, and then developing it, Toyota was unable to inject much character. Or to disguise the BMW character. How much of an issue is this? Not much if youâre looking for an everyday sports GT and donât have any particular brand affiliation. If thatâs you, youâll get into the Supra and think itâs well built from quality materials that are nice to touch â much better than you were expecting from a Toyota. In fact only the rev counter jars, looking a bit shiny and out of place. Thatâs the only major Toyota part I can spot. Itâs snug and enveloping, the seats are good and you look out over a long bonnet.
In comparison the M2 mounts you on a booster seat and gives you light. Visibility is much improved, but itâs not so sports car-like. Very familiar typefaces, fonts, instrumentation and so on. Plus rear seats and a boot for actual practicality. You could put an actual booster seat in the back.
Be hard to rein yourself in for family duties, though. Itâs got some attitude, the M2, a forceful personality which makes you overlook the lack of brake feel and abrupt suspension. It stomps, twitches and roars along, a barrel-chested, boisterous ripper. The kind of car that wants to show you a good time, all the time. The Supra doesnât have this force of personality â but how could it? And maybe thatâs not what you want. In that case Iâd say you werenât looking for a sports car at all, but something to replace the Audi TT, something distinctive and a bit more exclusive thatâs not going to ask too much of you. Thatâs being slightly unkind, because the Supra does have talent, it does have finesse and it is enjoyable. But donât we want our sports cars to have a bit more oomph than that? And oomph is not something the BMW M2 Competition is short of.
We spent a large part of this week telling you the Supra and its rivals (Cayman, Alpine A110, M2 Competition) were great because they werenât about the numbers. To compensate, we thought you might like to see how fast they go with some actual real-world, data-driven numbers. Plus some words to explain what youâre seeing.
Letâs start at zero mph. These cars, although similar in price and philosophy, cover a broad range. Thereâs over half a tonne between the lightest (the 1,103kg Alpine) and the heaviest (the 1,625kg BMW M2 Competition). The latter weighs one and a half of the former, but actually actually has over 1.5 times the power â 404bhp plays 248bhp â giving it a better power-to-weight ratio.
But not the best: the 1,375kg, 360bhp Porsche Cayman GTS beats it with 262bhp/tonne, where the BMW musters 249, the Alpine 225 and the all-new Toyota Supra 224. Still, considering the huge power and weight differences, thatâs only a 17 per cent difference.
Even so, accelerating away from zero mph, why is the car with the best power to weight ratio (the Cayman) not the fastest? Because it has a manual gearbox, which means you lose at least 0.2-0.3secs on each shift, and an engine which has a tendency to either bog or wheelspin (with vigorous axle tramp) when getting away fast. Apportioning torque is not easy off the line. The Alpine is hamstrung by its narrow tyres (235s out back when everything else is at least 265) not finding enough grip, the BMW by truly dreadful launch control through its DCT gearbox. Faster in the end to just drive it off the line after building up the power a little against the brake. Same for the Supra, although it was much more effective thanks in part to its softer suspension squatting and transferring more weight onto the back wheels.
Anyway, the Supra went off like a flicked pea â fastest to both 30 and 60mph, nicking past the latter in a smidge under four seconds (they claim 4.3 to 62mph). The M2 Comp, having discovered traction (if youâre not careful that can take as long as Capt Cook did to discover Australia), then hooks up and goes. From here (roughly 40mph) on, nothing can touch it.
Letâs put traction to one side since thatâs not really relevant to most of us. 30-70mph is though. Thatâs acceleration we can use everyday, on motorway sliproads or A-road overtakes. Now at 30mph in our tests all except the Alpine were still managing varying degrees of wheelspin. In fact you donât hit 100 per cent throttle in the BMW, Porsche or Toyota until well into second, because even if they will hook up towards the top of first, when they kick into second theyâll instantly spin up again. Anyway, with that proviso, the BMW smashes from 30-70mph in 3.26secs. The slowest, the Alpine, is just 0.38secs behind. Which is about the time it takes to say âthe slowestâ out loud. Not much in it. The lightweight/low power approach works. Although most modern car manufacturers seem amazingly oblivious.
Anyway, as the speeds rise further and despite its small frontal area, the Alpine starts to slip back. Weâre now in the realms of stat talk, only relevant to those doing runway run wot ya brungs and autobahns. Take 100-120mph. The A110 does it in 5.13secs, which isnât slow, but the BMW? 3.46secs. About 1.5 times faster.
The Porsche, having struggled to put daylight between itself and the Toyota at lower speeds when thereâs too much frantic gear-changing involved (they post identical 30-70mph times of 3.43secs), hits its stride above 60mph, getting from there to 120mph over a second quicker than the Supra (9.44secs against 10.55secs). Still, only a second faster to pile another 60mph on top of the national speed limit, so on the ground itâll probably be no more than a car length, maybe two, in front.
Theyâre all fast of course. And most of them will soon be getting faster. A second gen Cayman GT4 will be here before the end of summer, Alpine has pulled the wraps off the 288bhp A110S, itâs widely acknowledged thereâll be a faster, harder Supra. And in due course BMW will have another stab at an M2. It wonât be slower, because they never are.
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