From the September 1989 issue of Car and Driver.
There’s a certain amount of suspense built into most of our road tests. We introduce the unproven nominee, review the particulars, let the tension build to maximum effect, and then—the envelope please!—hand out the laurels or the thorns. But this time we’re going to reveal our frank and impartial assessment right up front: if the new Mazda MX-5 Miata were any more talented and tempting, buying one would be illegal.
There’s no use trying to hide our enthusiasm for this car. No way we can keep the envelope sealed until the end of this critique. You see, the Miata fairly glows with the automotive ideals that this magazine holds dear—exciting looks, fun to drive, sensible ergonomics, quality construction, fun to drive, refined mechanicals, affordable price, and—did we forget to mention?—fun to drive. We feel like cheering.
Feel free to cheer right along with us. With the new Miata, Mazda has brought back the simple, honest sports car we feared had vanished forever. No longer will we gaze in frustration at 1960s movies and their rakish Triumph TR4s and Lotus Elans and MGBs. Mazda has resurrected those barnstorming sports-car times in one spectacular, up-to-date package. The Miata combines a chic and lightweight body, a cozy and sportive cabin, a dashing soft-top layout, and—perhaps most important—a front-engine, rear-drive powertrain. Need we say more? Well, yes. The Miata is also commendable for what it doesn’t deliver—namely, large oil stains on your garage floor and roadside breakdowns.
“We wanted to combine the reliability and quality of a Japanese car with the excitement and emotion of an inexpensive, lightweight, rear-drive convertible,” says Bob Hall, product planning manager at Mazda’s Irvine, California, facility and one of the visionaries behind the creation of the Miata. “The idea just seemed incredibly logical to us.”
Happily, Mazda remained true to that idea. The car you see on these pages tipped our scales at a mere 2210 pounds. That’s with the optional plastic hardtop in place. That’s with the standard driver’s-side air bag. And that’s with such now-expected options as air conditioning, power steering, and an AM/FM/cassette sound system. So even with the nods to modern times, the Miata delivers on its honest-sports-car promise.
Constructing a car so committed to a single purpose meant that Mazda had to start with a fresh sheet of paper. A few of the Miata’s pieces are familiar: the power is supplied by a normally aspirated version of the 323GTX powerplant, and the five-speed manual transmission is from the 929 (although the ratios have been revised). But the bodywork, the interior, the chassis, and the suspension are new.
The Miata has clearly been created by and for enthusiasts. Examine the car’s smart lines for a moment. Could a calculator-toting marketing team have penned such an enticing form? Of course not—the Miata has plainly sprung from knowing hands. The shape is nostalgic but not imitative; Mazda has captured the essence and flavor of the sports cars of yore without copying any one design. Instead the Miata’s neat and trim shape charm with warmly familiar details: attractive seven-spoke alloy wheels, carefully styled chrome door handles, jaunty rearview mirrors, sleek taillights, and that oh-so-important air intake in the prow. Of course, if all you see here is a 1990s version of the Lotus Elan, well, what’s so bad about that?
The Miata is equally aware inside. The cabin recalls the immediacy of an honest-sports-car cockpit without forcing the occupants to endure cramped quarters. Anyone short of a Detroit Piston will be able to get comfortable in the Miata. The instrument panel sits up close and personal, but there’s plenty of legroom in the wells underneath. (Orthodox enthusiasts take note: the throttle pedal is drilled.) The room is generous for hips and shoulders.
More than roomy, the Miata’s cabin is a friendly place to be. The instruments are simple analog dials—would an honest sports car use anything else? (Note, too, the nostalgic chrome rings around the speedometer and the tach.) The straightforward climate controls fall readily to hand. The seats are supportive and comfortable and are covered in a natty black cloth. The shifter is reachable without reaching. Mazda has done a superb job of preserving the intimate atmosphere of an honest sports car without adding overwrought styling cues or oddball ergonomics.
Of course, an honest sports car needs more than a seductive shape and a cozy cabin. It’s got to have the kind of driving appeal that makes you jump in and take the long, twisty route to your local video rental outlet—even when you don’t own a VCR. On that score, the Miata delivers in spades.
Mounted under the Miata’s sleek hood is a sixteen-valve, DOHC 1.6-liter four-cylinder engine. That should tell you something right away. Mazda didn’t stuff any old engine under the hood in search of motive power; the Miata’s twin-cam unit is suited to its sporty mission. The electronic-port-fuel-injected 1.6-liter four-cylinder produces 116 horsepower at 6500 rpm and 100 lb-ft of torque at 5500—just about right for an honest sports car. The engine mates to a standard five-speed manual transmission, and only to a five-speed. No honest sports car would offer an automatic.
Honest sports cars have never been g-force machines, and this one doesn’t buck the trend. The 116-hp four pushes the Miata from zero to 60 mph in 9.2 seconds and to a top speed—with the hardtop on—of 116 mph. Those aren’t the sort of numbers that test-results buffs drool over. But what the numbers don’t reveal is how happily the Miata goes about its job. The engine willingly revs to its 7000-rpm redline, and the five-speed shifter is as crisp and quick as a formula car’s. Our only complaint is that the pedals are too far apart for easy heel-and-toeing. Still, the Miata is great fun to zip from corner to corner.
It’s fun in the comers, too. Our Miata test car, shod with 185/60HR-14 Bridgestone SF-325 tires, clawed around the skidpad with 0.82-g of grip. That’s honest cornering power. And the fully independent suspension—unequal length control arms and coil springs all around—provides a controlled and comfortable ride. Those hoping for a road-going race car may be disappointed, however: the suspension can become a bit unsettled when pushed hard. But dial back to nine-tenths and the Miata will restore an ear-to-ear grin to your face.
To be truly honest, of course, a sports car must provide sun in the face and wind in the hair. And so Mazda designed the Miata from the beginning as a convertible. The Miata’s cloth top is as refined and effective as modern engineering can make it. Lowering the top is as easy as unzipping the plastic rear window, unlatching two catches on the headliner, and folding the top back. It’s so simple that the driver can do it at a stoplight without rising from his seat. An easy-to-fasten vinyl boot secures the stowed soft top.
Our test car also came with the optional plastic hardtop ($1100). One person can lift this tasteful top with ease, though you’ll want to secure it using two people to avoid scratching the bodywork. Installation takes about a minute.
Top down, the Miata pays back big on its honest-sports-car pledge. The open cockpit remains buffet-free until about 70 mph. As you motor about, the exhaust emits a sportive rumble that’s conspicuous but never obtrusive. And the body remains reasonably tight even over the rough stuff. No honest sports car of yesteryear was ever as buttoned-down as the MX-5 Miata.
As you might expect, the Miata caused a sensation wherever it went. And we know why. It’s one thing to catch sight of an $80,000 exotic car; we look and maybe even feel a twinge of lust, but deep down we know that we’ll probably never be able to afford such a machine ourselves. But when the Miata rolls into view, the rubbernecks crane and gawk and smile with an entirely different expression on their faces. You can practically see them mouth the words, “Hey! I could be driving that car!” That’s the beauty of an honest sports car. Its restrictions are two seats and limited luggage space, not a stratospheric sticker.
The Mazda MX-5 Miata is a very honest sports car. Base price is $13,800. Our well-optioned test car—including the hardtop—cost $17,168. That’s not beer money, but then you’ve always had to pay for driving indulgence. For the money, the Miata delivers an overload of the kind of pure, unadulterated sports-car pleasure that became all but extinct twenty years ago. And, being a thoroughly modem automobile, it promises more happy, trouble-free miles than honest-sports-car drivers dared to dream about in the days before MTV. The line forms here.
Counterpoints
Perfect, that’s what the new Miata is. Some of the young lions around here are calling for more horses, but I say whoa boys. Would you ask for a splash more color on a Rembrandt, or demand a rewrite of the last scene in Gone with the Wind? When it’s right, it’s right. Period.
If you’re after a g-whiz machine that’ll make your neck ache and your tongue hang out, then you don’t want this car. The Miata is all about cruising: it is light, simple, nimble, and—most important—a ball to drive top down on a warm afternoon.
I did that just the other day. Just ambled into town, toured past the golf course, and enjoyed the sky-blue-and-tree-green canopy above. I took in the sights; there was no need to hurry. The burble of the exhaust supplied the music. I reveled in the sweet mechanical purity of the Miata, the delicacy of the controls, the steering response that’s so direct you don’t have to think about it, and the terrific Formula 1-sized shifter. I never even fired up my radar detector.
There are other cars that go faster and grab comers harder. But go drive a Miata. Then tell me if you’d change even one bolt. —Rich Ceppos
The Miata is a delightful toy. It captures the essence of the classic British open-top sports car—without the usual British-sports-car maladies.
The Miata’s forte is providing a memorable driving experience. The snug and handsome cabin, the directness of the controls, and the back-to-basics simplicity make this car thoroughly enjoyable. And the Miata is quite refined and practical.
This is a driver’s car through and through. The steering is precise and responsive. The gearshift invites stirring. The engine revs willingly and with a familiar Lotus/MG/Triumph note. And the handling is safe and reassuring.
As good as it is, however, the Miata isn’t perfect. The body could be a bit stiffer in back, the ride could be more absorbent, and the engine could use more horsepower. Still, the Miata is an inviting, carefree, contemporary convertible like no other. —Nicholas Bissoon-Dath
What’s so special about a little two seater with a top that goes down? Because you asked, I’ll tell you.
In one small package, the Miata, Mazda has assembled living proof of what Detroit and the rest of the world needs to fear from the Land of the Rising Sun. Or, as it’s called in some quarters, the Land of the Rising Market Share.
The Miata, a car created without a hint of heritage, springs to life as a complete sports car. An automobile in the idiom of the 1950s British offerings but built with today’s quality and capability.
It’s lithe, it’s lean, and it leapfrogs its way through traffic just the way my first MG did. Better than my last MG. Furthermore, I would start tomorrow for Tierra del Fuego in it, taking only clothing and maps. In the old days, my MG never left on trips over 75 miles in length before being stocked with spare plugs, fan belts, and a prayerbook.
I’ve tried to find some clay in the feet of this newest sports-car idol, but I’ve failed. Time will tell. Meanwhile, I’m frankly overwhelmed at what Mazda’s managed to do. I’m buying one. —William Jeanes
This content is created and maintained by a third party, and imported onto this page to help users provide their email addresses. You may be able to find more information about this and similar content at piano.io
Source: Reviews - aranddriver.com