I am growing bored with the Mitsubishi Evo. It may be the fastest road car
money can buy, the cream of all things automotive in the Milky Way, and the
great and wonderful grandson of the formidable Audi quattro, but we’ve had
enough now, thanks.
Pretty well every day a new version comes along which is claimed by those of a
downloading disposition to be better than the one before. But do you know
what? It’s just more of the same. Brilliant, but you tire eventually of
lobster thermidor, especially if you’re given it for breakfast.
I don’t doubt that each tweak of the dampers and each fettle of the
differentials makes life a shade faster on the world’s rally stages, but
shaving half a second off a 20-mile flat-out run through the Corsican
hinterland is simply not noticeable when you’re popping out to buy some
Rawlplugs.
I tried the Evo VIII FQ300 last week and, as expected, it offered up scramjet
performance within the world of internal combustion. But then I could have
said pretty much the same of the normal VIII which in turn felt about the
same as the VII, the VI and even the V.
I could say the same of the Subaru Impreza. Every month we read in the car
magazines of another new version. We’ve had the RB5, the PPP and the STi,
and now we have the WRX STi Type RA Spec C Ltd. Why would anyone buy a car
like that? To impress girls? I think not. So it must be to impress other
men. I suppose this is logical: because as the car’s power goes backwards
and forwards, you end up that way inclined too.
What’s happened here is what happened to the world of rock’n’roll in the
mid-1970s. Bands like Genesis and Yes started fiddling with simple concepts
until they ended up with songs that lasted two weeks, presented in Roger
Dean album covers with 42 gatefolds.
I liked Seconds Out and Fragile. But you need to take a deep
breath before admitting to this kind of thing in public. And it’s the same
story with the Evo VIII and a specced-up Subaru. They have become
“progressive rock” cars. Lots of smoke and light and noise and an auditorium
full of really, really ugly men who have told their wives and friends
they’re working late.
What’s needed is a dose of punk, a retaliation to the clever-clogs synthesizer
and the technically amazing half-hour drum solo. What’s needed is something
small, tight and angry. What’s needed is the Lotus Exige.
This is a car that has no active yaw control and no active diff. It has no
turbocharger and does not need to be told what sort of road it’s on before
setting off. If the Evo VIII, with its spray-jet intercooler, is Rick
Wakeman’s Journey to the Centre of the Earth, then the Exige is
a spitting, strutting Sex Pistol.
It costs £30,000, which — give or take — means it’s about the same as the
Japanese toys, although you do get rather less for your money. For a start,
there are no back doors, no back seats and, while there’s a boot, it’s
really only big enough for an overnight bag.
Other things you don’t get are air-conditioning, electric windows, carpets,
airbags, traction control, satellite navigation . . . even sun visors. Yes,
just about everything is an extra-cost option.
To understand this car, we need a bit of history. Lotus has enjoyed many years
of success with its little Elise, but in the past 18 months or so sales have
fallen sharply. This is partly due to the Vauxhall VX220, which is the same
car built in the same factory but is faster and better value. And partly
it’s because the Elise had become a bit yellow around the teeth.
Lotus decided that to keep the factory busy it would start to sell cars in
America, but sadly the Rover K-series engine doesn’t meet US legislation:
apparently it smokes too much and likes a drink at lunchtime.
So Lotus decided to fit Toyota’s 1.8. This is a teetotaller that lives in a
gated community, stands up for the national anthem and cries in public. It’s
also a bloody good engine, with two camshafts — one for economy and then,
after a little step at 5000rpm, another for power. Nice.
For some extraordinary reason, Lotus decided to keep going with the old
Rover-engined cars here in Britain, and to make them more appealing lopped
£2,000 off the price. This went down well with my wife, who bought a 111S at
the old price last year. “The ******* ********,” she said. Anyway, the
Toyota engine worked so well in the Elise they decided to do a hard-top,
hardcore version, and thus the Exige was born. If you see one, here’s a tip: get out of its way.
Yes, the Toyota engine may produce only 189bhp, which is about the same as you
get from your Aga, but because it has no sun visors and no active yaw
control it weighs less than a microwave oven. Put it like this: when Genesis
went on tour they needed 16 pantechnicons and a football stadium. With an
Exige, you simply rock up and play.
Getting to the playground, however, can be unnerving. Because it’s so tiny you
feel dwarfed, even by people in Peugeots. After a day in London I developed
small-man syndrome, squealing away from the lights and cutting people up
just to assert myself.
There are other problems with the size, too. Getting in, for instance, is not
something that can be achieved with any dignity. Nor should it be attempted
in a skirt. But once you’re there, and you have your breath back, it’s more
spacious than you might imagine.
Better still, it’s quite comfy. I was expecting a completely solid suspension
setup, but actually it’s fairly soft, bumping over potholes with a jar
that’s noticeable rather than back-breaking. Don’t be fooled, though. Don’t
think it’s all pose and no go, because — trust me on this — you can bring
whatever you like to the party, a Ferrari, a Lambo, an Evo . . . anything,
and the Exige will leave you gasping and bewildered in its wake. You simply
will not believe how fast this car goes.
Part of the secret is downforce. Pretty well all cars rise up on their
suspension as the speed increases, but the Exige, with its low,
bumper-snapping front, its flat floor and that big spoiler on the back,
generates F1-style downforce. In other words, the faster you go, the heavier
it becomes. By the time you’re up to 100mph it’s like you have a baby
elephant sitting on the roof, pressing the tyres into the road.
Ah yes, those tyres. These are the real jewels in the armoury. Specially made
for Lotus, they’re as slick as the law allows. I’m told they can be used
when it’s raining, but I would advise extreme caution. Hold back, wait till
it dries up and then you will absolutely not believe the treat they have in
store.
It’s not so much the grip, which is prodigious, but the feel they provide when
that grip is exceeded. You can sense the precise moment when they’re about
to let go, and you know exactly what to do about it. I have never driven a
car which goes through corners as well as this one. Never.
At a stroke it makes the Elise feel like Bambi on that frozen lake, and any
Italian supercar like a heffalump. It’s as if you’re driving a housefly: the
agility and sheer ability to get out of harm’s way beggar belief.
It’s no slouch in a straight line either, getting from 0-60mph in 4.9sec and
hammering along till it’s gone past 140mph. By which time, I should imagine,
it weighs more than the Flying Scotsman.
I want to give it five stars. As a driving experience it warrants about 47.
I’m only held back by the price, which is steep, the looks, which are odd,
and the noise, which is just that.
It can have four stars, though, and it can be content in the knowledge that it
has swept away a tidal wave of excess weight and over-complication. It has
brought a bit of anarchy to the UK.
VITAL STATISTICS
Model: Lotus Exige S2
Engine type: Four-cylinder, 1796cc
Power: 189bhp @ 7800rpm
Torque: 133 lb ft @ 6800rpm
Transmission: Six-speed manual, rear-wheel drive
Suspension: Independent double wishbone with coil
springs over monotube dampers
Tyres: (front) 195/50 R16 (rear)
225/45 R 17
Fuel: 32.1mpg (combined)
Top speed: 147mph
Acceleration: 0-60mph: 4.9sec
Weight: 875kg
Price: £29,995
Insurance: Group 20
Verdict: A breath of fresh air
