|
Article ref. DeLorean DMC-12.
The DeLorean legacy – and British car industry
MORE car makers have come and gone than continue to exist, and many of those which are still producing cars under their own names are actually subsidiary companies to large multinational operations, some with little interest in their product other than what is returned at the bottom line.
Many makers have folded through no fault of their own, save perhaps lack of developmental resources. Global trade and competition have put paid to any number of smaller producers as the quest for greater economies of scale results in cheaper (and many would say less characterful) offerings that can be found on sale in almost every market with just a few tweaks necessary here and there to adapt to local preferences and tastes.
And no particular ‘type’ of car has been immune to this so-called ‘progression’. From the mundane to the mighty, the minuscule to the massive, there are tragic examples in every category.
Sadly, Britain’s car industry has not been immune either, and is perhaps one of the countries hardest hit in the ongoing extinction of family favourites. With a trail of names which exists now only in the memory or among the vibrant groups of enthusiasts keen to perpetuate all that was good about these once household, now defunct marques, some look back fondly at Riley, Wolseley, Humber, Hillman, Singer, Triumph and, most recently, Rover - to name just a few.
One car maker with sights set high and hype to match was John Z DeLorean, a former employee of General Motors and the man who pretty much created the American ‘Muscle Car’ phenomenon of the mid-1960s with the enormously powerful Pontiac GTO.
DeLorean’s idea was to build an ethical sports car to rival the likes of the Porsche 911. Beset by troubles, the car eventually lurched off the production lines in 1979, to enjoy a brief three-year production run of some 6-7000 examples of which around 10 percent were right hand drive.
Nobody can deny that the DeLorean DMC-12 is a striking looking car. Designed by Giorgetto Giugiaro with the project overseen by Lotus’ Colin Chapman, the DMC–12 was to be aimed at “the bachelor who’d made it” and incorporated such bachelor-boy gimmicks as room behind the front seats for a set of golf clubs, and optional red leather interior.
Powered by the heavy 2850cc PRV (Peugeot-Renault-Volvo) fuel injected V6 engine mounted at the rear, the car developed around 145bhp – hardly enough to worry anybody in the thoroughbred Porsche stable – and hauled it up to 125mph. Even sportscars from the 1960s like the legendary Jaguar E-Type and Ferrari Dino were clocking 150mph and more, and the diminutive Lotus Elan could outrun it quite considerably on the 0–60 sprint, propelled by a mere 1600cc engine.
And it wasn’t just the engine that was sadly lacking in power - the gullwing doors were so heavy with electrics that the single gas strut on each side was barely enough to open them, let alone hold them open - and worse still, despite the weather seals, they also failed to close properly, so the design may have looked spectacular on paper, but in the metal, appeared to be a spectacular failure.
The body itself was of GRP (glass-reinforced plastic) construction, sheathed in brushed stainless steel and while it looked striking, owners soon found it was almost impossible to clean and keep clean. Anybody familiar with finger marks on a stainless steel fridge freezer will know that to try and keep a whole car looking sparkling clean would be a tall order, even with a bottle of baby oil handy!
Similarly, the wheels – which were beautiful to look at – were a cleaning nightmare with their multi-spoke design. The car’s wide track and the fact that the front wheels were cast 1inch smaller in diameter than the rear aimed at improving the handling of the car – much needed considering the front-to-rear weight distribution was 35:65, mainly due to the overweight powerplant.
The interior of the DeLorean feels cramped with all the techno-gizmo stuff going on – the telescopic steering column and adjustable wheel, the not-inconsiderable central console, the lumbering air-conditioning and climate control systems.
That, coupled with the red leather everywhere and the tiny window apertures made for a very warm cockpit – many examples are reputed to have encountered air-conditioning failure amongst the other teething troubles and some of the windows are even reported to have stopped working altogether.
It all adds up to a great shame for a car which under other circumstances could have gone from strength to strength.
Already dated by the time it was launched and sadly underpowered, the DeLorean did not get off to a good start. Even with a reputed £60 million or so of government/taxpayers money backing the purpose-built factory at Dunmurry outside Belfast, the company closed its doors with an alleged debt of £25 million.
Aside from rose-tinted glasses and the ability to gloss over the rough build quality and numerous other issues, the potential new owner of this particular example (bought in 1988 for £10,000) would need to be looking for a sum of between £25,000 and £35,000 to secure ownership, and therefore kinship in a rather select family.
We’re a funny lot, the British car lovers!
|
