Rule of Three
Katrina Mueller-Jackson and Henry Rasmussen test BMW's European-designed, American-built iteration of the lightweight sports car.
The point here is easy to miss. Sure, the BMW Z3 is a sharp-handling, crowd-pleasing sort of car. Sure, it’s got considerably more interior room than its competition-of-one, the Mazda Miata. Sure, it has that tight, solid, all-of-a-piece feeling for which German cars are famous, and sure, it’s been the recipient of more pre-digested PR hoo-ha than any event since Norman Schwarzkopf’s book tour.
But to the truly observant car enthusiast, the interesting thing about the launch of the Z3 is not nearly so much what the machine is or what it can do: It’s what the little BMW Z3 means for the future of the entire sports-car market. Are we sounding high-falutin’ here? Maybe, but consider this: The market for 2-seat sports cars has gone right down the john in the last five years, and its collapse has led to two schools of thought. "Today’s aging baby boomer," says the first, "is now too old for small cars, and too chastened by the ’80s to ostentatiously display his wealth. Ergo, the market for flashy, impractical sports cars is dead." It’s mostly the Japanese who espouse this view, and no big surprise: Having poured billions of dollars into high-tech ’90s sports cars and losing a bundle when they flopped, what else would they think?
But "Bullocks and double bullocks," reply the largely European members of Camp Two. "Buyers didn’t walk away from the sports-car market in the ’90s, the sports-car market walked away from buyers." And this group has a point. The 1990s saw most 2-place Japanese examples—which had become dominant precisely because they were affordable alternatives to costlier European brands—move right into the price range formerly reserved for luxury cars and Porsches. In retrospect, it’s probably not surprising that their sales fell faster than a Wallenda with inner-ear problems.
To the Europeans’ way of thinking, the Japanese simply bet on a burgeoning world economy and lost. In doing so, their theory continues, they also lost the political will to build any more 2-place sports cars, lest they get burned again—and here is where an opportunity can be found.
The result of all this guesswork is that today's enthusiasts are watching a fascinating battle unfold. European carmakers think they can fill the market back up with simpler, less costly sports-cars and revitalize a segment the Japanese gave up for dead.
And it’s not just sales that are on the line, either. Since World War Two, the sports-car market has generated publicity and good will all out of proportion to its actual volume or technical importance.
Unto the Breach
Already, into this perceived hole have come the English MGF, Italian Fiat Barchetta and now the German Z3. But while the former two cars are honestly within spitting distance of a middle-class buyer’s budget, the Z3 is surprisingly close to the same price range that recently sent the once-popular Toyota MR2 and Dodge Stealth into purgatory.
BMW has followed Camp Two’s ideals to a point. Yes, the Z3 is an honest, genuine and mechanically simple sports car. Everything about it was conceived and designed to be affordable, at least within the framework of BMW’s price structure and customer base. The only engine available in America, for instance, is a normally aspirated, reliable 1.9-liter, 140-horse version of their smooth and willing DOHC Four. The platform is that of the well-amortized 3-series sedan, not a unique structure developed for just this one car. Suspension is by the current 3-series’ MacPherson struts up front and the previous generation’s semi-trailing arm setup out back, again to keep things affordable. The roof is operated manually (for now, though that will change later), and standard equipment includes convincing leatherette on the seating surfaces, not genuine dead cow.
The Z3 starts at $28,750, which brings ABS, power seats, mirrors and windows, a/c, a tape player and leather control surfaces. Add leather seats, traction control and some other common goodies, and you can figure that the average car will cost over 30 grand. And while BMW remains mum on the topic, the surely imminent 6-cylinder model will push that price higher still, probably into Porsche Boxster territory.
Now, let’s be absolutely, crystal-clear here: I’m not saying for a moment that the Z3 isn’t worth it. As a matter of fact it is worth it, particularly as its price still undercuts its Japanese rivals by thousands of dollars. The point is simply that somewhere between concept and execution, the Z3 ceased to be a truly downmarket, high-volume sportster and became a fairly serious, exclusive proposition.
The Europeans may indeed be coming back into the market, but we’re learning that the Z3, Mercedes R-class and Porsche Boxster are not going to be nearly as cheap as we’d hoped: Ten years from now, we may say they correctly identified the problem but come up with the wrong answers. If so, it will be a tragedy of epic proportions for the entire segment.
The Point Being...
Enough crystal-balling for now; what about the matter at hand? Well, the BMW badge alone would sell a ton of Z3s no matter what the car cost or how it was built, and with that fact in mind, this roadster seems like a genuine bargain.
Comparisons with the Miata are inevitable, and in most areas the German-designed, South Carolina-built car comes out way ahead. First and foremost, the materials and execution of the BMW are beyond comparison. Where the cheaper, lighter Mazda makes no pretense of solidity or glamour inside, BMW’s typically rich, hard plastics and leathers simply exude quality and strength.
The cockpit also feels considerably roomier (as well it should, considering the Z3’s 7-inch longer wheelbase). Everything inside will be familiar to BMW faithful, including the firm seats and clear, legible instrument panel. Surprisingly, the big
steering wheel is not adjustable, though well-enough placed.
Fire up the engine and for a moment the Miata moves into the lead. The last time we checked, the Japanese car’s 1.8-liter engine would move it from 0-60 nearly a half-second faster than our best 8.8-second run in the BMW. The Miata engine also makes much better noises; at best, the German emits a flat, bumbly whoosh from the tailpipe which steadfastly refuses to excite. Toss the car into a tight, greasy corner, however, and you immediately see the point of the BMW’s bigger window sticker. Where the Miata’s handling is a whole lot of fun that builds up to fairly low limits, the BMW’s is fun, accurate and inspired on its way to very high limits.
At one point in my travels I grossly underestimated the treachery of a slippery, descending S-bend. The resulting combination of bad judgement and a bad roadway would have tossed most any other car—the Miata particularly—over the side, and my own stupid butt right along with it. Not the Z3: Amazing reserves of grip and poise simply planted the car to the pavement, and it obeyed my flailing arms despite all the laws of physics. While the Miata feels like a good old-fashioned sports car, the Z3 comes off as an a modern racetrack refugee. Interestingly, this ability is combined with a smooth and unruffled ride that utterly belies its small size. The Miata could certainly learn a thing or two here.
Turn-in is accurate and crisp and, while arguably antiquated, its healthy serving of traditional BMW drop-throttle oversteer means two tons of fun for the adventurous. Under an extra-heavy foot, the Z3 moves far beyond fun and into the realm of big-league sports and touring machines. A lot of this competence comes down to its extra-rigid structure, well-chosen rubber, standard limited-slip diff and accurate controls. The latter are particularly satisfying, with the Z3’s shifter and pedal efforts proving best-in-class. "Yes," I kept thinking behind the wheel, "this is exactly how a convertible sports car should feel."
On the outside, cynics may say the most inspiring thing about this car is its badge. I do approve mightily of the Z3’s overall proportions—particularly the long-hood/short- deck element that results from the 3-series’ 6-banger engine compartment—but many of its details are less to my liking. I’m not crazy about the bulging nose, the scalloped 3rd brakelight or the vertical sidevents a la BMW 507. And while public reaction during my drive was overwhelmingly positive, I had to keep wondering what would have happened if I’d pried off those roundels and glued Pontiac badges in their place. What seems quirky and advanced on an autobahn master often seems unfathomable when it comes from Woodward Avenue.
Still, that comparison is a little disingenuous. Pontiac isn’t BMW, and without the latter firm’s longstanding reputation, the idea of building a $30,000, 4-cylinder, 2-place roadster would never have made it out of the styling room. BMW knows that it’s not only offering a simple, basic sports car, here. It’s offering a simple, basic BMW sports car, and that’s something a lot of people will line up to pay for.
