Car Lust

RIP, Isuzu

As Rob the SVX Guy mentioned in another post today, Isuzu will leave the U.S. passenger car market at the end of the month. Isuzu will continue to provide parts and service for cars already on the road and will still be in the U.S. market with its thriving commercial truck business. But, for the first time since 1981, Isuzu will no longer be an option on the new car market.

This news isn't a surprise; Isuzu announced its withdrawal last year, and the writing was on the wall well before then. As Rob has pointed out, Isuzu hasn't been particularly relevant for some time, so it's difficult to get too exercised about its demise here. After all, the Isuzu name basically died here when it was relegated to use only on rebadged GM SUVs.

Still, I will miss Isuzu. It's never nice to lose a brand, and Isuzu gave us some memorable moments over the years. Here are the things I'll remember about Isuzu:

Suzuki Aerio

Some time ago, a co-worker mentioned to me that Car Lust, while intermittently entertaining, isn't particularly useful in helping everyday drivers find good, inexpensive modern cars. I nearly recoiled in shock. After all, the Fiat X1/9 and AMC Eagle are perfect cars for today's families.

Of course, he's right. I drone on a great deal about old cars and expensive new cars, but of the recent crop of inexpensive cars only the Kia Spectra5 has received any love--and that was tepid love at best. "Well, fair enough," I told my co-worker. "How about the Suzuki Aerio?" At this point, he gave me a look of sickened disbelief and walked rapidly in the other direction. I get that a lot.

Nobody who has paid attention to this blog in the last 18 months should be at all surprised that I like the Aerio. It's an inexpensive and useful family hauler, and the very characteristics that caused it to fizzle in the American market cause me to love it. America hates hatchbacks; I love them, and if they are hunchbacked, all-wheel-drive, and quirky, so much the better.

1986-1992 Saab 9000 Turbo

When Saab debuted the 9000 in 1986, it raised some eyebrows. It's not often that a car garners attention because of its normalcy; but such is the case when a noted oddball carmaker like Saab introduces a car so seemingly bone-stock conventional as the 9000.

Saab had always been known for cars with profiles that could best be described as quirky. From the early 92 and 95, to the swoopy Sonnetts, to the swollen and hunchbacked 99 and 900, Saabs looked different than normal cars and were seemingly proud of that fact. By contrast, the 9000 was clean and attractive but otherwise unremarkable by the standards of 1986. The aero headlights and the smoothly contoured sides were handsome and aerodynamic, but reminiscent of the ground-breaking Audi 5000 and Ford Taurus. Without the Saab grille and insignia, it would be difficult to identify the 9000 as a Saab--while the 900, on the other hand, showed its Saab heritage clearly and proudly. Only the five-door hatchback bodystyle betrayed Saab's quirky tendencies.

In another break from non-conformity, the 9000's platform was the result of a joint development effort with three other European carmakers. The 9000's chassis and, in some cases, body panels, were shared with the Alfa Romeo 164, Lancia Thema, and Fiat Croma. Sharing a platform with the likes of Alfa and Lancia doesn't exactly raise the spectre of awful and irrelevant clones like the Cadillac Cimmaron or Mercury Bobcat, but its conventionality was a bit worrying for this slavish Saab-ite. Had Saab sold out and built a bland every-car?

The Joys of Winter Driving

Offered without comment, this ad for a chain of filling stations owned by StatoilHydro of Norway:

Great (???) Commercials--Trabant 601

Our subject for today is a thirty-second commercial for the Trabant 601 which appeared on East German television around 1969.

Quantum of Annoyance--When Product Placement Goes Horribly Wrong

My wife and I watched the new James Bond film Quantum of Solace a week or so ago and thoroughly enjoyed it. As you might guess from my frequent references to Bond, I am a fan of the franchise--and while I occasionally miss the humor and campiness of the Roger Moore movies, I overwhelmingly approve of the franchise reboot. The series badly needed more realistic villains and a darker, more dangerous Bond, and the last two movies have delivered.

As good as Quantum of Solace was, though, all of its goodness was nearly unraveled by Ford's product placement whitewash. It didn't start out badly--the movie began with a thrilling car chase that featured Bond piloting a gorgeous Aston Martin. Even setting aside from Bond's history with the marque, Aston Martin is the perfect Bond car--muscular, debonair, slightly threatening, and thoroughly English. Aside from the fact that the company is owned by Ford, of course. (EDIT: Partially owned by Ford, that is. Ford sold all but a small stake last year. Thanks to the commenters for reminding me--I thought Ford still had a bigger stake.)

Likewise, I could buy that Bond would drive a Land Rover--it is a believable Bond vehicle, especially for off-road situations. Again, Land Rover is a Ford property. I even enjoyed the novelty of seeing a motorcycle chasing down an electric subcompact--a electric subcompact Ford Ka, naturally. 

Chrysler LeBaron Coupe/Convertible

When discussing the topic of government bailing out struggling American automakers, the mind turns naturally to Chrysler. After all, the smallest of the Big Three famously received $1.5 billion from the government in loan guarantees in 1979. Powered by Lee Iacocca's charisma, a solid if unspectacular small car platform (the ubiquitous K-car), and brisk sales from its innovative minivan, Chrysler managed to survive and even thrive in the 1990s.

In the 1980s and early 1990s, Chrysler tinkered with the K-car platform and the equally ubiquitous 2.2-liter four-cylinder engine like a small child tinkers with Legos--crafting endless combinations of disparate creations from essentially the same set of parts. As with the kid with the Legos, some of the results were wonderful--and some weren't. But only one was truly beautiful--the LeBaron.

I can hear the snickering already, so let me clarify--after all, as Oldsmobile did with "Cutlass," Chrysler throws the LeBaron moniker around with wild abandon. I'm not talking about the Dodge Diplomat clone (though that's a pretty wagon), the Dodge Aries clone, or the Dodge Lancer sports sedan clone (certainly a future Car Lust in its own right). No, I'm talking about the Chrysler-specific personal luxury coupe that debuted in 1987 and broke new ground with its smooth, stylish lines.

Now the snickers are turning into belly laughs--that's fine, laugh it up. Those of us with more refined tastes will be cruising around in our LeBarons.

Oldsmobile Cutlass Ciera

We spend a lot of time here at Car Lust blogging about unsung heroes--cars that for whatever reason never received the recognition they deserved. The Oldsmobile Cutlass Ciera is not one of those cars. It received all the recognition it deserved--absolutely none.

With its reputation already listing after the torpedo hits of the 1970s, General Motors did the best it could to scuttle the remnants of its good name with a series of relentlessly mediocre sedans through the 1980s and early 1990s. The Cutlass Ciera was one of those sedans, joined in abject mediocrity by its A-body cousins, the Buick Century and Chevrolet Celebrity. Strangely, the A-body Pontiac 6000 STE escaped the curse--despite its mechanical similarities, it was a surprisingly effective sports sedan by the standards of the time.

The Cutlass Ciera and its fellow A-bodies weren't terrible in the same way as Cookie the Dog's Owner's Chevy Monza Wagon. They didn't tend to grenade, or rust away rapidly. They sold well and typically gave their owners many years of grudging, unenthusiastic service. Even now, more than a decade after the last of these cars went out of production, you can see Cieras and their brethren cruising around with scabrous paint and drooping headliners.

Pontiac GTO Judge

Has there ever been a badder, more intimidating, more colorful name for a car than "Judge?" With apologies to Boss Mustangs and Plymouth Road Runners, I think "GTO Judge" is the unquestioned champion in this category.

Pontiac's dead-serious GTO had kick-started the muscle car revolution in 1964. Big, fast cars were around before the GTO--the Chrysler 300 letter-series cars were among the most famous--but the combination of the 389-cubic-inch Pontiac V-8 with the attractive intermediate-size Tempest body proved irresistible. The Ford Mustang sparked the pony car class later that year, and suddenly performance cars were hot. Nearly every carmaker had a muscle car in its lineup--even AMC got into the game with the S/CRambler--but in a sea of Cyclones, Chevelles, and Chargers, the GTO stood out as the first, the most famous, and one of the best-selling.

Yugo GV

Let's just get one thing out of the way right here and now:  This is a Car Lust. This isn't some halfhearted, tongue-in-cheek, sarcastic, acerbic attempt at humor or irony (Chris Hafner: Already done!). I really, truly, honestly, and completely would drive a Yugo GV with pride if it were presented to me. Oh, and yes, I also know where the mental asylum is in my home town, but that's entirely unrelated.

In 1985, under the auspices of Malcolm Bricklin, the first Yugo GV ("Great Value") was imported into California at the low price of $3,990; according to the official CPI calculator, that works out to $8,124.10 in today's dollars. This puts it a full $2,000 less than a Chevy Aveo or even the most stripped out Kia. Buyers who picked up a Yugo were treated to a Fiat 127 redone with VW Rabbit-inspired styling, all built under the careful eye of the best, most talented workers that Zastava could muster. Thus, buyers were treated to an affordable, modern, stylish twist of an old tried-and-true design. This formula would be used again 10 years later to bring the Daewoo Lanos to our shores.