Jekyll and Hyde Go German: The 2010 BMW M3 Coupe
Historically, I’ve never been a fan of German vehicles. Call it a bias, call it favoritism, call it whatever you will, but the fact remains: I grew up in a household that held names like Jaguar, MG, and Land Rover sacred. And that meant I couldn’t like German cars.
Because British cars and German cars have always inhabited opposite ends of the automotive spectrum. Take, for example, a comparative sub-set of both countries’ post-war products: representing Britain, we have the Jaguar XK120. A glorious sculpture of vivacious curves and bulging bodywork, it is still the definition of the sports car to a great many aficionados. Concurrently entering production in the same year at Porsche’s old Gmünd, Austria plant was Germany’s quintessential sports car; the 356. Porsche’s first production automobile, it boasted a unique rear-engined layout that was forced to borrow heavily from Ferdinand Porsche’s best-known product, the VW Beetle. Although hardly a looker (let’s face it, they were called Bathtub Porsches for a reason), the 356 was an engineering marvel; mixing equal portions of ingenuity and Volkswagen components to arrive at a final product that was far more than the sum of its parts. Fast forward to today, and the rivalry is unchanged. German cars still tout unparalleled levels of engineering, while British cars still boast unparalleled levels of beauty. Don’t argue; you know I’m right.
But, lately a car came into my life that had me questioning the very tenets of my automotive morality. Bearing the Bayerische Motoren Werke AG roundel on its bulging hood and the nomenclature “M3” on its trunklid, I found myself coming around to the Teutonic way of thinking I’d shunned for long.
Approaching my appropriately Alpine White M3 coupe tester, I remained unwaveringly flying the British flag. Don’t get me wrong, the whole car looks fantastic. The big, double-rimmed (look inside the wheel and you’ll see there’s a second lip inset behind the spokes) multi-spoke wheels look appropriately dark and race-worthy, and the ultra-wide elastic bands filling in as tires give the car an appropriately race-worthy stance. The fenders (still plastic) bear the now-familiar fender vents we’ve grown to love on previous M-badged vehicles, and add an appropriate amount of pizzazz to the side profile. Out front, massive openings feed what the onlooker can only surmise to be an untold number of brake cooling ducts, intakes, and heat exchangers. That assumption subsequently makes the holes in the hood appear altogether more necessary, as BMW’s engineers must have asked… nay, demanded that the powerplant be offered no less than nine holes to inhale and perspire through. Out back, the same four businesslike tailpipes protrude from below an easily identifiable bumper cover.
But, as good as it looks, it occupies the nether regions of automotive design; straddling the fence between the more hard-core, race-inspired looks of the E46 M3 and graceful, road going lines of Jaguar’s XK. Sitting in a parking lot below a single metal-halide bulb, it oozes drama and power, but sidle up next to a well-kept E46 M3, and you’ll soon be recalling the early criticisms aimed at the E90 M3’s styling.
But, as any engineer will tell you, form follows function; so to judge the M3 on looks alone is to take a truly asinine approach. After all, from the moment you touch the door handle and hear the lock unlatch at your finger’s touch, you know it’s going to be special. Obviously, being a BMW, there’s no need to mention the pleasing acoustics of the door’s action, put it’s always a pleasant surprise. But by far the most pleasing aspect of the interior are the excellent seats. With power adjustable lumbar support, thigh support, and best of all, side bolsters, it’s impossible not to find the perfect position. Which is good, because when it comes to in-car entertainment, the M3 is all business. The dashboard, lifted from the standard 3-series, is really little more than a long expanse of black material, and although the stereo is easy enough to use with the supplied iPod integration cable, it’s not the most entertaining nor eye catching piece on the market. Hell, BMW doesn’t even seem to want you drinking in the car; the two cupholders are dangerously flimsy given the degree to which they protrude. Coincidentally, don’t even think of placing a standard coke bottle in one either; the spring loaded lever locks into lower taper and takes some serious fussing about to remove!
Of course, the second you press the starter button, none of that matters. In fact, after you’ve popped your proverbial M3 cherry with that magical little button, you’ll find that a lot of the things you once considered important suddenly seem about as pertinent as the square root of 17. Displacing 4.0L and carrying seemingly no flywheel, the V8 revs with a willingness that makes you wonder if replacing broken tachometer needles is a common BMW technician’s task. Flipping the drive selector of my DSG equipped tester into drive for the jaunt through town surprised with its transparency; previous iterations of similar gearboxes have frustrated me numerous times with laggy starts and a discourteous nature. Not so here; even set on its most civilized setting, the DSG performs stunningly well, providing thrust to the rear wheels in a smooth and progressive manner. Rifle through the various stages of hard-core-ness, and the transmission responds correspondingly, holding gears longer and engaging the clutch packs with greater tenacity. In full-feather-ruffling mode, it’s downright hooligan-inspiring, blipping the throttle like Schumi on corner entries and waiting for your command before grabbing the next cog on the exit. Likewise with the various throttle settings; keep it in normal mode for sedate commuting or mount up with the most aggressive setting for quicker reflexes and more aggro responses to inputs.
And it’s that flexibility that lends the M3 it’s most potent ability. Sure, it may not turn heads quite like a comparably priced Lotus or a one or two year old Jag XK, but it does everything better than both those cars. As equipped, with the excellent DSG transmission, I couldn’t come up with a car that can match the M3 for its unprecedented ability to pair commuter comfort with trackday performance. And that’s because there isn’t one. Granted, there’s cars that are better sports cars, and there are cars that are better commuters, but there isn’t a car that does both as well as this one does. Clamber in the large door opening and the car literally hands you your seatbelt (Youtube M3 seatbelt; it’ll blow your mind!) as you fall into the sumptuous seat. Flex your index finger over the selectable preset M button, and the car that just politely handed you your seatbelt is ready to hand someone their ass. It’s the perfectly engineered car; Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde all gloriously rolled up together. Now, if only they could get a Brit to do the bodywork...
