The no-show cars: a reader rant on mad concepts

Instigated by Harley Earl at General Motors in the late 30s with the quaintly named Buick Y-Job, show cars, or concept cars, were presented to an excited public eager for new things. As the world recovered from a depression and then a war, these vehicles pointed to a better future that many people believed in, including the people who produced them. And, although many of the concept cars of the 50s, with their Jetsons plexiglass roofs and notional nuclear powered engines seem ludicrous now, in their time they weren’t that cynical. Certainly they weren’t the cars you were going to buy next year but, maybe, some time in the near future, you would. Those were optimistic times.

Since then there have always been show cars but, in recent years, their numbers seem to have increased, and I have to say that, generally, they make me a bit angry. I feel I’m being manipulated in a situation where, inevitably, I’ll be disappointed.

First are the impossible things, with massive visibility problems, little room for the wheels to steer, or heads to fit in. These are to promote nebulous concepts and, often, the more grand the concept, the more bankrupt the manufacturer is in their everyday products. Who really believes that the GQbyCitroen will ever happen? To me it’s just a poke in the eye. “This is what you won’t be driving, you sad punters, so drool on and get back in your C3s".

Second are the lightly disguised versions of a near production model, with just a bit of customising. They are put forward as teasers, to keep the public interested and to help them, the poor confused things, acclimatise to a new shape. So nice of them to do that isn’t it? It sometimes backfires (even if there is no engine fitted) as in the case of the Jaguar C-XF, where everyone felt short-changed that the actual car’s styling wasn’t as sharp as that of the show car.

Third are the worst ones. These are the cars you really think they could make, with just a reasonable amount of compromise. These ones really piss you off because you want to buy them. But you know that someone will say, first, that the door mechanism would cost €3.70 more than a conventional one to make and that, anyway, the whole shape didn’t clinic too well in Broadstairs. For instance, see the Renault Vel Satis of 1998 and the one they actually made a few years later. Even worse still, they do make it and it’s the Chrysler PT Cruiser.

Actually, there are four types really. Fourth, there are the Far Eastern ones that are based on small cars or city cars, but I’d rather avoid these because they are inconvenient to the general negativity of my argument. Some are stupid, some are clever, some are idealistic, some are cynical, some are retro, some are futuristic, and some of them actually get made and, by and large, in one way or another, they make me smile, which can’t be a bad thing.

And, as with everything, there are other exceptions. The Fiat 500 was a toe in the water concept which, because it was so well received, became a model. Personally, I’d rather have a Panda, more practical yet, to my eyes, just as cute but in a 21st Century way, but I’d be a killjoy to resent the fact that ownership of a 500 has cheered up a lot of people. And the BMW Gina demonstrated an intriguing and credible concept which, quite excusably, would take a while to ever get into production.

Anyway, back to scowling. So what really are these things that manufacturers dangle in front of us? To answer this, let’s digress to the US Custom and Hot Rod scene. At the same time as Harley Earl’s boys were getting into gear, young men were returning from the Second World War with little money and the feeling that they deserved some fun. They couldn’t afford, and often didn’t want, some effete and buzzy little English roadster. And they didn’t want their dad’s boring sedan. So they started taking mundane old Fords and such and turning them into something else, something that went a bit faster, and looked a bit cooler - though cool itself was only just being invented back then. As the scene flourished, so more money flowed in and it became a proper and serious industry, certainly no longer a backyard hobby as a look at the excellent US magazine The Rodders Journal will show you.

Recently my eye was caught by a fantastic conception based on a 1936 Ford 3 Window Ford Coupe. “First Love” is an updated re-creation of a car that never existed. An small up market Lincoln coupe, a sort of BMW M3 of its day, say. Fitted with a 700 HP V8, this is no stuffing a good ol’ boy lump into a crude chassis and covering it all with 50 coats of paint job. Turn it upside down an there is an ingenious suspension. Elegant castings meet push rods which disappear into the body to concealed springs. It’s a lovely concept - the idea of recreating cars that never existed, but should have, really appeals to me.

The cost is unpublished but, judging by the man-hours that went into it alone, we are talking very well into seven figures. And it’s worth every cent, the workmanship is fabulous, you can have nothing but respect for the people that built this. It is a sure fire show winner, holder of the prestigious 2007 Ridler Award. And there is the problem because, although to compete it has to be shown that the vehicle can move a few feet, it does not have to show that 700+ HP can blast it down the freeway, or that the amazing suspension can tackle Pacific Highway. Because it can’t. In its current form, the car cannot be properly driven and, unless it has many modifications, it never will be, it will just move from show to exhibition to show. There is no doubt that the people who built could make it function, only that would compromise its worth as a show car.

Such vehicles divide opinions strongly in the US. There are those who look back to the history of the movement who say that they are indulgent travesties, playthings for rich men. Others admire the ingenuity and workmanship in the way they might admire a piece of Lalique glassware without wanting to drink out of it.

So, I ask myself the question, what is ‘First Love’ actually? By my terminology a car is something that moves, under its own power, at a reasonable speed, for mile after mile so, to me, ‘First Love’ is not a car. Is it art? I can’t really answer that one to everyone’s satisfaction, and I defy anyone else to. You can give the old ‘art is in the eye of the beholder’ answer and I certainly know many artists who would laugh at the idea of any car being called art, but I think that, if a ‘car’ can be such, certainly one that can’t move has the most chance.

Back in Europe, occasionally old show cars come up for sale. Many of them are based on a contemporary model of the time’s underpinnings and can be driven, though they usually remain unsorted and the driving is going to be a joyless business. Others just have blocks of wood for engines. In some cases, the original design, after going through a few metamorphoses, actually became a production car, and the original takes on a real historical significance . Most unlikely of these was probably the Stratos, a futuristic show car which no-one would have thought, on first seeing it unveiled in Turin in 1970, ‘now that would inspire a great rally car’.

Mention of a car like this reminds me that there has to be a distinction between the show cars of mainstream manufacturers and those of design houses, such as Bertone. These are more justifiable, even when a touch silly, because they are directly displaying their maker’s primary product - design.

I’m often aware that much of what I and other people write about the motor industry and its products shows little understanding of, or sympathy for, the people involved, the restriction of legislation, the financial considerations and the internal and external politics. For those of us outside the industry this is our luxury. Inside the industry, it must be a welcome relief to stretch your imagination and come up with one of these concepts but, in the end, if nothing actually appears on the road, they are just an indulgence. The interior of the new Jaguar XJ is lauded and, for a production car, deservedly so. But consider all the amazing interiors we have seen in show cars. Where are they?

So, what’s my gripe? It is the fact that, except on the rarest occasions, I get no feeling that the industry is really engaging with the public in a meaningful debate as to the future of its products. They are playing with us and, in doing so, they are underlining the paucity of what they actually offer. Show Cars are the photo of the burger in the window; layers of moist meat, topped with a generous crispy salad. Yum! Relatively speaking, what we end up getting is the reality of the lettuce flecked roadkill, dished up tepid on a Friday night.

By seant