Articles by Stephen Corby

It’s French but that’s no reason to discriminate.The huge freaky looking batmobile dystopian gangster car that is called the 908 RC from Peugeot was shown at the Paris Motor Show to oohs, ahhs, and guffaws.We’ve seen exterior pics of this beast before, but now we have the full gallery.Spec-wise the 908 RC boasts a 700-hp diesel V-12, which is the same diesel in Peugeot’s upcoming Le Mans racer.The V-12 is also mounted transversely, in the middle rear of the car, allowing the 908's boot to be ‘uge.Peugeot insider’s say there’s next to no chance the 908 RC will fire up a production line, but who knows. The Audi R8 just announced started off as a concept car three years ago and now takes top honours in the company’s sportscar stakes.

I’ve often pondered the strange yet undeniable connection between going bald and buying a convertible.Are bald blokes trying to distract us from their follicular failings by driving something flashy and dashy, or are they, subconsciously, trying to draw attention to the fact by buying a car that apes their receding hairline with a receding roof?The launch of the staggering new BMW M6 Convertible is about to add more confusion to the issue by creating another potential sub-set of nude nuts: people who weren’t actually bald when they bought one but have had their hair removed from its roots by the sheer force of its acceleration.Even baldies like to tout the term "wind-in-the-hair motoring", but in the case of the rag-top M6 it’s more like tornado-in-the-hair transport.When you put your foot down in this V10-engined V-max machine you rip holes in the air around you, both with your pace and the race-bred noise that it makes.Anyone tall enough to have their head sticking above the line of the windscreen is in serious danger of being lobotomised as well as Yul Brinner-ised.The 5.0-litre engine huffs out a faintly ridiculous 373kW of power and 520Nm of torque and can hurl this highly luxurious grand tourer from a standing start to 100km/h in a supercar-standard 4.8 seconds.That figure is all the more implausibly impressive when you consider that the Convertible weighs in at 2005kg – up 220kg on the M6 Coupe.Logic, and indeed physics, dictates that two tonnes of car simply should not be able to move that rapidly, but this M6 forces you to redefine what you think you know.Overtaking maneouvres that would seem suicidal in other cars are performed with the flap of a paddle gearshifter, the flick of a right boot and an almost irresistible hoot of joy from your lips.And scuttle shake, that curse of all convertibles, which sees the frame flexing and the steering wheel shickering in your hands, is banished, entirely.Then there’s the fact that no two-tonne teuton-mobile should be able to handle, and change direction, as well as this car does.You’re always aware of the weight, obviously (and personally, it’s the reason I’d still choose a mere M3 over a monstrous M6) but it simply doesn’t hinder you, even through tight, twisting switchback sections of road.Throw in the marvelously meaty steering feel and you’ve got one hell of a car in your hands.The thing is, BMW have already been offering a very similar and slightly faster (4.6 seconds to 100km/h) car, the M6 Coupe, for some time, so why the need for this drop-top version? Is it just the ultimate bald man’s car?Well, no. The M men admit quite happily that this car isn’t really necessary, as such, in any logical way, but it does have a strong emotional element.And that emotion is linked, essentially, to the heart through the ears.As one M insider put it, "this is a sound machine".The mad, metallic shriek the V10 engine makes is impressive enough in the Coupe, but hearing it, untamed, with the roof down is something else again.It’s the kind of car that has you hunting for tunnels like a mole.And when you find one, it’s impossible to resist dropping it back to second and exploring the volcanic volume that erupts above 8000rpm.As wondrous as it is in most ways, the M6 Convertible does have its failings, including an A-pillar that’s so big you have to bob your head from side to side to see around it.I also still found myself wishing it had a manual gearbox instead of its super high-tech seven-speed SMG, which rolls back on hills because you can’t control the clutch take-up and, at full noise, changes cogs with all the subtlety of someone hitting you in the coccyx with a telephone pole.Indeed, in some countries – Canada and the US – they’ve wished this so hard that it’s coming true, with a conventional six-speed manual set to become available for V10 M customers this year.In the rest of the world, we’re told, there simply isn’t enough demand for a three-pedalled version. For shame. Then there’s the styling, which might politely be described as grandiose, or less politely as just gross.In the white livery the car was presented in at launch, it looks like a florid, Florida kind of car, which would make it a Miami sound machine, I guess.And yet, this is a car that you could buy despite its looks, not for them, just to get your hands on that engine.It obviously appeals to plenty of people, too, with the first production run already sold out in Europe, before it’s even gone on sale.The M6 Convertible will break cover locally at the Australian International Motor Show in Sydney next month before going on sale in December at a price tipped to be in the stratospheric $290,000 to $300,000 range.Stephen Corby is a senior roadtester for the CARSguide team whose work also appears in the Sunday Telegraph. A version of this review plus more news and analysis can be read in the Sunday Telegraph.

Theoretically, you could launch just about any motorised vehicle in Germany - a Korean sports car, a Yank tank, a hulky bulky SUV, you name it - and it would end up feeling fabulous.The joy of driving the country’s speed-limitless freeways and its smoothly surfaced and spectacularly twisty back roads is such that it rubs off a feeling of wellbeing onto whatever you happen to be piloting.Even catching a bus can be invigorating, when the bus is doing the sort of speeds you could be hung, drawn and quartered for in some countries.So, it’s possible that I was more impressed by BMW’s revised and refreshed X3 than I would have been if it had been unveiled in, say, Victoria (which is pretty much the philosophical polar opposite of Germany).But it’s also fair to say that the baby soft-roader had a hell of a lot of ground to make up, because the original was a stinker.The former X3 was a product that didn’t match its label, like putting Grange in a cask, or attaching a Tiffany diamond to a beer-can ring pull.BMW’s badge cache is such that it can get away with quite a bit, but feeling cheap is one thing we won’t forgive.While the big brother X5 is an impressive bit of engineering and has the quality feel you expect from the Bavarians, the X3 looked and felt like a bargain-bin Beemer.The black-plastic nappy treatment around the rear was a poor styling decision, even for a company that let Chris Bangle bugger the 7 Series, but the biggest failing was the interior.A plethora of plastics more commonly found in disposable razors or kids’ toys meant that the pseudo SUV felt like a pseudo BMW.The men from Munich don’t stuff up very often and when they do, they tend to fix the problem quick smart (with the exception of iDrive, which the X3 is truly fortunate to miss out on - oh, and run-flat tyres).And so we have the tweaked and tricked-up X3, one of the quickest, and biggest, facelifts the company has ever performed.BMW folk counter that the update to a model only launched here in 2004 was timely because so many competitors in this segment are about to be launched and they wanted to get in first.Park the new X3 next to the old one and it’s like looking at Paul Vautin the footy player and Fatty Vautin the suit-wearing star.The flat-black bumpers are replaced by colour-coded panels, the double kidney grille on the nose is bigger and bolder and the rear-light cluster, which used to look like a cross-eyed robot, has been tidied up with some LED liveliness.Inside, the plastics are polished and there’s a lot more ersatz wood grain splashed about.Best of all, it’s actually got door bins and map pockets now, something you’d think might have been an obvious inclusion on the original, but you’d be wrong.And, to the delight of our American colleagues, there’s even an extra cup holder.The overall effect is a lift in class, so that you now actually feel like you’re sitting in a smaller but no less pleasant X5, which was surely the idea of this car in the first place.And it really is a car, or a rough and tough looking people mover perhaps, rather than an SUV.It handles, rides and gingerly goes off-road like a car, with a commendable lack of bodyroll, surprisingly good steering and, in the case of the 3.0-litre versions we drove, a raspy, rorty sports car sound.Honestly, is there anything BMW’s straight six-cylinder can’t do? If the Germans ever decide to go to the moon, their rockets will no doubt be powered by this masterfully engineered engine.This new and yet again improved 3.0si version offers 200kW (up 30kW from the old one) and 315Nm.Acceleration is pretty impressive for a big, tall car that’s pushing a bow-wave of air, with a 0 to 100km/h time of 7.2 seconds (an improvement of 0.6 of a second). The mid-range punch also makes it a great freeway car.BMW claims an excellent 10.1 litres per 100km economy figure with this engine, but we saw between 15 and 17.7 litres per 100km, although our driving did include some detailed testing, and proving, of the car’s top speed of 232km/h.As far as off-road credibility goes, the X3 can boast Hill Descent Control, which works pretty well, and DTC (Dynamic Traction Control).This system, which has previously been employed to allow the tail of the Z4 to flick and flout, is cleverly adapted here to allow you the wheel slip necessary to tackle sand, sludge and mud (sadly our drive program didn’t include any of these things, but it sounds workable in theory).The permanent all-wheel-drive system, xDrive, is also mightily clever. In general use it has a 40:60 torque split, but if necessary up to 100 per cent of torque can be sent to one end, all within milliseconds.Frankly, though, all this equipment is bar-boasting stuff. Realistically, who would take a car this botoxed and beautified off-road and risk getting it scratched?The X3 will also be offered with a 160kW 2.5-litre engine, priced at $65,900 for the manual and $68,500 for the auto, while the auto-only 3.0si will be $73,900 – price rises of $1500 and $1000 respectively over the old models.More than 50 per cent of X3 buyers in Australia, however, choose the 3.0-litre diesel (which, sadly, we didn’t get to drive because we were sharing our launch drive with Americans, who think "deeesell" is the devil’s work).The volume model rises in price by just $500 to $75,900, and also gets equipment upgrades, including a Bluetooth kit.We probably shouldn’t even tell you this, because it’s cruel, but in Europe the X3 is also being offered with a superb new super diesel, the 3.0sd, which uses Variable Twin Turbo technology to produce 210kW and 580Nm of torque.It’s so impressive, in fact, that it blows the 3.0-litre petrol version into the weeds, with a 0 to 100km/h sprint of 6.6 seconds and a top speed of 240km/h.We might not be getting it yet, but we’re betting this engine will find its way into some kind of BMW offering here eventually, and that it will be worth the wait.Stephen Corby is a senior roadtester for the CARSguide team whose work also appears in the Sunday Telegraph. A version of this review plus more news and analysis can be read in the Sunday Telegraph.

Remember Betamax video recorders, those lumbering, top-loading titans of terminal technology? They went from old hat to dead format in the blink of an eye. Now picture the Lexus GS450h, a car that may just be the equivalent of a $121,900 Betamax recorder.Well, that's not entirely fair, because the Lexus will still provide transport and be able to burn reasonably common fuel (albeit of the premium kind), even if Toyota's hybrid drive petrol-electric engine system doesn't turn out to be the dominant technology of the fuel-frugality years we're entering.And while the GS450h is certainly big and heavy, it's not quite as ugly as a Betamax. In fact, the car passed the servo test with honours.One smitten BP worker even described it as beautiful, despite what I argued with him were portly, American proportions and a hunched back.Looks aside, the appeal of this Lexus is billboard-simple to define: “V8 performance with four-cylinder economy”.Sure enough, during a week of varied driving, the GS averaged between an impressive 8.5 and a reasonable 10.1 litres per 100km.But its range, off a 65-litre tank of pricey PULP, was just over 500km.Compare this to the diesel option. Our recent, long-term BMW 530d (packing an in-line, six-cylinder turbo diesel) returned a best figure of 5.7 litres per100km, with a range of 935km off a single tank of farmer's fuel. It was also far more lively to drive, handled in a whole different class — and had a boot.The Lexus looks like it has one, but open the lid and you realise it's an optical illusion. Those big ol' batteries under the rear seat take up all the space.And you can have the Bavarian brute for just $114,500. As far as performance goes, the Lexus may be quick — with a claimed zero-to-100km/h time under six seconds — but doesn't feel like it.The hybrid uses a dual-VVT-i direct-injection, 3.5-litre V6 that produces 216kW, mated to a 147kW permanent-magnet electric motor.Its theoretical combined power output is 253kW. In terms of torque, the petrol motor hits its 368Nm peak at 4800rpm, while the electric one offers 275Nm from the get-go.This means you not only have good off-the-line grunt, but handy overtaking thrust. Indeed, driven enthusiastically, and with all its sport settings switched on, the GS450h will get up and boogie.But the main impression you get is that this is a heavy car rather than a dashing one.That isn't surprising, as the Lexus weighs in on the wrong side of 1800kg. I may not be a rocket scientist, or evena white-coat wearer from the Pond's Institute, but if you're trying to build an economical car of the future, making it lighter than a tank seems wise.The sensation of weight counts against the GS450h on tight, rough roads, where it crashes and shakes, while understeering with its big nose and fighting a tail-shaking battle with the traction control at the rear end. Still, it's a classy-feeling piece of kit and it boasts an excellent interior.The GS is far more at home on good surfaces, tackling smooth sweepers and freeway driving with consummate ease. And it's freakishly quiet.Compared with the pudgy Prius, this hybrid is in a different league. I could actually live with it if I had to, whereas I'd choose public transport (or two feet and a heartbeat) over a Prius.But with a massive Lexus price tag, and not such a large range, you have to wonder who's going to want to buy it off you in a few years — particularly if hybrid technology goes Betamax on you.And while I didn't set out to compare this car to the 5 Series diesel, I couldn't get it out of my mind that the latter is a more realistic, and more enjoyable, way to save on fuel while still looking rich and executorial.The only argument left in the Lexus's favour is that it produces fewer emissions than any diesel or unleaded-fuel car.Much like the Prius, or plastic surgery, people are being asked to spend a hell of a lot of money just to feel good about themselves.

We were at the Lakeside track near Brisbane and Brocky was driving, whisper it, a Volvo - albeit a roll-caged, Super Touring race-car version.As we approached the first, hairpin corner at the end of the straight I was gripped by a mixture of fear and embarrassment.I was pretty sure The Great Man had missed his braking marker and was about to stuff up big time and send us both into the weeds at high speed.Strangely, I wasn't as worried about my own safety as I was fearful for his reputation - surely it was going to be a shameful situation for the much-worshipped King of the Mountain, crashing with a journalist in the car.A few seconds later, fear was replaced by sheer wonder as Brocky nonchalantly nerfed the car sideways, setting in train a spectacular rear-wheel drift and slamming us around the bend with inches to spare.I honestly though we'd shared what race drivers call “a moment” until he did it again, on the next lap. And the lap after that.It was only on the third time around that I realised he was pulling off this berserk bit of driving with one hand, while the other arm rested, in typical Brock style, on the window sill.All the while he kept up a relaxed, riotous commentary - asking me if I wanted a sick bag and cracking jokes.This was the hero I'd built up in childhood made real. Years of watching him on the box at Bathurst were burnt into the brain - the wiley, smiley old champion who made the massive challenge of taming Mount Panorama look like a Sunday drive with the family.Brock never disappointed. To see him at Bathurst in his semi-retirement years was to see a racing rock-star surrounded by groupies.Children called Brock in his honour were presented, tattoos of his signature were proffered and Peter Perfect had a kind word and a smile for all of them.In the history of motorsport in this country there has never been anyone like him - so wildly successful and so widely loved.He will be sorely missed.Stephen Corby is a senior roadtester for the CARSguide team whose work also appears in the Sunday Telegraph. A version of this review plus more news and analysis can be read in the Sunday Telegraph.More Corby rantings on non-car stuff can be found on his Daily Telegraph blog.

It's funny how you always find women's magazines in doctors' waiting rooms, because I think they actually cause a mild form of illness themselves.

Really, I ought to be ashamed of myself.An invite to drive the latest Holden Statesman and Caprice should have been something to look forward to, but I was about as excited as a man who's just been told a new double DVD pack featuring extended versions of Sleepless in Seattle and Steel Magnolias is in the living room, ready to watch.I blame my non-motoring colleague, who, when told where I was off to, made a sympathetic face and sighed "Ohh no, how boring, that's the sort of car my dad would buy. Or maybe my grandad."Of course I was partly at fault myself, because I really never expect too much from our local product.I imagined something slow, clunky and slightly cringeworthy - much like an Australian film.But the new WM Statesman - the first of the new VE tranche of Holdens I've been able to try - was more like Crocodile Dundee, unexpectedly enjoyable and surprisingly close to world class.For years, Australian cars have had half-decent powertrains, let down by clunky, steam-age transmissions and cheap and not leerful interiors.The exterior styling of past Statesmans, in particular, has also been slightly obese and stodgy.But the WM range is pretty much instantly impressive, with bold, chunky looks that complete the stylist's almost impossible mission - making a very large car look good.While the side strakes are pure BMW M5 rip off, the rest of the car has the slab-sided, get-off-my-road presence of a Chrysler 300C, but none of the cheesiness.This is the stereotypical Big Car for a Big Country, but carried off in a way that few have achieved before.Personally, I'd go so far as to say it's the first Statesman I've ever seen that didn't make the word "ugly" belch forth unbidden.The stylistic flair is carried on in the interior, which is cavernous in the back seat (with child pacifiers, aka DVD screens in the rear head rests, standard on Caprice).While the chic sheiks who will buy this car in the Middle East will not want for rear leg-room, the front is also a pleasant place to be.Finally, Holden has lifted its game, with a pleasant, uncluttered style to the dash, a functional display screen and a steering wheel - with track-ball style whirligigs to operate functions - wisely borrowed holus bolus from an Audi A8.Australian companies have claimed in the past that they've been benchmarking their cars against European brands, but in this case, I actually believe them.Ride and handling were rated against BMW's fabulous 5 Series (albeit the last model, rather than the current one) and the Holden engineers have done a laudable job.The Statesman is more softly sprung than the Caprice, but not disturbingly so.Over lumpy roads it will develop a kind of low-frequency wallow, with a slightly tidal effect, but generally it's surprisingly well sorted, with none of the understeer you'd expect from such a big-nosed vehicle.Steering feel is also of an almost Audi standard, even if it still falls well behind class-leading BMW tillers.Step up to the Caprice and the ride/handling balance is even more impressive - firm and capable, yet still as luxurious as a car like this needs to be.When it comes to the automatic transmissions, the five-speed in the V6 Statesman is a big step forward from the old days, while the six-speed auto in the V8 Statesman and Caprice is simply light years ahead.Changes are smooth, almost imperceptible, and gear hunting is rare. As for the engines, the 3.6-litre V6, with 195kW and 340Nm, does a reasonable job of hefting an 1805kg vehicle, and never sounds overly strained, either.But the engine this car was clearly built to house, the 6.0-litre V8, is far more impressive. Its 270kW and 530Nm of torque make the Caprice an effortless cruiser.The only shame is that the cabin's excellent sound proofing blocks out much of this refined eight's rumble.The big engine never seems to be struggling, yet it can propel you towards the horizon with almost indecent haste.The overall impression is of almost European quality.The Statesman and Caprice are capable, unflustered and comfortable highway cruisers, and yet they manage to perform beyond what I thought we were capable of, even in enthusiastic driving.Perhaps the only fault, when pushing on hard, is a lack of lateral seat support, but then you don't expect Recaro race seats in a limo like this.The engineering effort might be enough to make you shake your head, and re-evaluate some old prejudices, but what really blows your mind are the prices.The V6 Statesman is just $58,990 while the V8 is $62,990.The big daddy V8 Caprice is $69,990, a staggering $5400 less than the outgoing model. The V6 Caprice is $65,990, some $4700 less than the old one.No matter which model you're looking at, it's a hell of a lot of car for the money.Compared to its European competitors, in fact, Holden is virtually giving them away.So can you feel the differences between Aussie luxury and the European versions?Well, obviously, yes. Every now and then the orchestra plays a bum note - a downchange from the transmission that's a bit harsh, a bit of plastic-wood that feels too cheap to even be allowed in the same city as a BMW factory.Then there's the design of the handbrake, which looks like an upended golf putter and just feels totally wrong.The indicators are also roughly 400 per cent louder than is absolutely necessary.And yet these foibles are not so foul that they would bother you as an owner.Indeed, this is, in some ways, as close to taking on the Europeans as we've ever come.It makes a little Aussie heart swell with pride.Of course, it should be noted that this car only really exists because of the Middle East market - which will buy more than 80 per cent of the WM cars Holden builds.Without those oil-rich buyers, in fact, the Statesman probably wouldn't exist, or at least not in this form.Still, the pay off is that, in building a car that's well and truly good enough to export, we've got a world class product for our domestic market.It remains to be seen how many people will buy them here. As impressive as the Statesman is, I'd have to really, really like my regular rear-seat passengers before I bought a vehicle that big.But it's a big tick for Holden that I'd even consider the question.The Statesman and Caprice are worthy flagships for the brand indeed, and all those who sail in them should be well satisfied.More reports from the CARSguide test team will follow during the week.Stephen Corby is a senior roadtester for the CARSguide team whose work appears in print in the Sunday Telegraph. A version of this review plus more news and analysis will appear in this Sunday's newspaper.

Some things just feel instantly comfortable - an old pair of jeans, a fat roll of $100 bills in your hand, the driver's seat of a Ferrari.Then there's the new Hyundai Elantra.From the very first minute, this car like wearing socks with sandals.The seats are flat rather than flattering, the steering wheel has all the tactile feel of a garden hose and as you attempt to drive off you find the accelerator pedal is touchier than a domino expert at the end of a long day.The instantaneous thrustiness gives a misleading impression that this is something of a jackrabbit in the acceleration department.Obviously, the Elantra is a budget mid-sizer, not a sports car, but while it boasts an engine size advantage over some of its 1.8-litre competitors, the 2.0-litre powerplant produces just 105kW and 186Nm.Hyundai claims a 0 to 100km/h time of 8.9 seconds, but they must have had a cyclonic tail wind of when they recorded that time. It's also noisy and rough sounding.Then there's the steering, which is about as talkative as Humphrey B Bear. The lack of feel would be mildly annoying, but it's actually worse than that. There seems to be a disconnect between the steering-wheel position and the reaction of the wheels.In fact, it gives new meaning to understeer. Not only does it exhibit this tendency in the traditional sense, it actually is literally under steered.Throw in the generous amount of bodyroll and you've got a car that doesn't exactly inspire confidence.When my colleague and I swapped places I discovered that these feelings weren't entirely my own as she apologised for wandering around the road like a drunken wombat. She couldn't get to grips with the Playstation-like steering either.To be fair, on smooth freeways the Elantra's ride, with its new rear suspension, is reasonably supple and indeed, amid the mundanity of everyday driving, the car's failings would hardly be noticeable.It's roomy, with a decent back seat, it's got a sheen of classiness and the exterior styling, with the “curvaceous character line” along its waist will no doubt turn heads.As will the pricing. The base SX model of what Hyundai calls its “very big small car” is $19,990.But at that price you miss out on some things - like steering-wheel adjustment, side-impact airbags, curtain airbags and buttons on the wheel for the stereo.The rest of the range, which tops out at $28,990, gets all that and more, including a very capable ESP (Electronic Stability Program) system.Buyers of the SX, who will make up the vast majority of customers, have the option of paying for a Protectz Pack, for $1790, which adds ESP, traction control and the curtain and side airbags. While this option is a potential life saver, safety just isn't sexy and realistically people are more likely to shell out for alloy wheels.Hyundai already offers a similar pack for its Getz and out of the 1800 units it sells a month, only 10 to 15 buyers have chosen to Protectz themselves.The company tips a similar take-up rate for the Elantra, which it expects to sell between 750 and 800 a month when it goes on sale in October.It's a real shame Hyundai couldn't have made ESP standard across the range, but a sub-$20K price is a far better selling point.The other attraction for buyers will be the claimed fuel consumption of just 7.4 litres per 100km (7.8 in the auto). Strangely, though, our car on the launch drive returned a less impressive average of 8.7 litres per 100km.Even so, at least drivers will get a good feeling from the Elantra when they get out of it to approach the bowsers.

Some things just feel instantly comfortable - an old pair of jeans, a fat roll of $100 bills in your hand, the driver's seat of a Ferrari. Then there's the new Hyundai Elantra. From the very first minute, this car like wearing socks with sandals. The seats are flat rather than flattering, the steering wheel has all the tactile feel of a garden hose and as you attempt to drive off you find the accelerator pedal is touchier than a domino expert at the end of a long day. The instantaneous thrustiness gives a misleading impression that this is something of a jackrabbit in the acceleration department. Obviously, the Elantra is a budget mid-sizer, not a sports car, but while it boasts an engine size advantage over some of its 1.8-litre competitors, the 2.0-litre powerplant produces just 105kW and 186Nm. Hyundai claims a 0 to 100km/h time of 8.9 seconds, but they must have had a cyclonic tail wind of when they recorded that time. It's also noisy and rough sounding. Then there's the steering, which is about as talkative as Humphrey B Bear. The lack of feel would be mildly annoying, but it's actually worse than that. There seems to be a disconnect between the steering-wheel position and the reaction of the wheels. In fact, it gives new meaning to understeer. Not only does it exhibit this tendency in the traditional sense, it actually is literally under steered. Throw in the generous amount of bodyroll and you've got a car that doesn't exactly inspire confidence. When my colleague and I swapped places I discovered that these feelings weren't entirely my own as she apologised for wandering around the road like a drunken wombat. She couldn't get to grips with the Playstation-like steering either. To be fair, on smooth freeways the Elantra's ride, with its new rear suspension, is reasonably supple and indeed, amid the mundanity of everyday driving, the car's failings would hardly be noticeable. It's roomy, with a decent back seat, it's got a sheen of classiness and the exterior styling, with the “curvaceous character line” along its waist will no doubt turn heads. As will the pricing. The base SX model of what Hyundai calls its “very big small car” is $19,990. But at that price you miss out on some things - like steering-wheel adjustment, side-impact airbags, curtain airbags and buttons on the wheel for the stereo. The rest of the range, which tops out at $28,990, gets all that and more, including a very capable ESP (Electronic Stability Program) system. Buyers of the SX, who will make up the vast majority of customers, have the option of paying for a Protectz Pack, for $1790, which adds ESP, traction control and the curtain and side airbags. While this option is a potential life saver, safety just isn't sexy and realistically people are more likely to shell out for alloy wheels. Hyundai already offers a similar pack for its Getz and out of the 1800 units it sells a month, only 10 to 15 buyers have chosen to Protectz themselves. The company tips a similar take-up rate for the Elantra, which it expects to sell between 750 and 800 a month when it goes on sale in October. It's a real shame Hyundai couldn't have made ESP standard across the range, but a sub-$20K price is a far better selling point. The other attraction for buyers will be the claimed fuel consumption of just 7.4 litres per 100km (7.8 in the auto). Strangely, though, our car on the launch drive returned a less impressive average of 8.7 litres per 100km. Even so, at least drivers will get a good feeling from the Elantra when they get out of it to approach the bowsers.

But you know it's coming.This is what the launch of the original BMW 1 Series was like.Here was a car with obvious gifts — a road-carving chassis, sublime steering and an abrupt wheelbase — but none of the power needed to fully exploit them. We've got used to driving the 118i and 120i and, luxury accoutrements and lovable steering feel aside, to not expecting much from them.At first glance, the 130i Sport doesn't look a lot racier than these conveyances — in short, it doesn't look fast.It does, however, manage the impressive trick of feeling very quick indeed. It takes just one grip of the muscular, M3-styled steering wheel, which would make a brutal truncheon if you straightened it out, to know that this is a serious bit of kit.The M-labelled door sills and the ridiculously grippy seats, which hold your hips, sides and kidneys in a boa constrictor grip, are other big clues as well.Then there's the sound, which my better half was entirely bemused by. She seemed to think there was something "wrong" with an engine deep-bass burbling like a vat of brimstone, even just off idle.Enthusiastic application of the throttle produces a raging, metallic snarl — as if popcorn is being made out of ball bearings.These sounds were applauded as quite wonderful by the formerly baffled beloved, but it's easy to see why she was confused.That sort of fuss and fury isn't normally associated with small, five-door hatches — imagine Lleyton sounding like Lawsy and you've got the idea.What's making all that noise is the engine that makes BMW the envy of so many: its 3-litre straight six.In the increasingly bulky new 3 Series range it turns up in the 330i as a stonking, slamming powerplant, but in the 1 Series shell it's even more impressive, thanks to a weight difference of 90kg. (The 130i tips the scales at1465kg.) The 330i races to 100km/h in 6.9 seconds, but the 130i would already be gone, hitting the ton in just 6.1 seconds.Even more impressive is the price difference, with the 130i's $62,000 sticker a massive $34,500 cheaper. Unlike the latest 330i, this baby version even comes with a six-speed manual gearbox.While the gear lever feels lovely to the hand, the shift action is not as good as, say, the Volkswagen Golf GTI. It's not a pig to use, by any means, it's just further than you'd expect from class-leading.What makes gear shifting a pleasure, though, is heel-and-toeing on the downchange, with the pedals perfectly positioned to make it feel natural, and that gorgeous metallic burp/blip sound.Around town you've got to love the engine's 315Nm. It's got enough teeth to snap at you from 100km/h in fifth as if you've just prodded it with a burning stick.With 195kW, this really is the full Federer. Even in third gear, on a dry road, you'll light up thetraction light if you plant the foot.Much fun is to be had by pulling up at the lights next to an ordinary 3 Series and leaving it languishing.It's almost as good as frightening hell out of other 1 Series drivers, who look at you as a kindred spirit when you pull up, then shake their heads as you disappear towards the horizon, wondering why the dealer sold them a dud version.Street-light fights are one thing, but it's in the twisties that the 130i really shines, punching you in and out of corners and providing the sort of meaty steering that makes it feel like you're cutting big chunks out of each bend. The only criticism is that the car does not cope too well with really big bumps, but most of the time it stays as hunkered down as a tortoise.Finally the engine can ask the questions we've wanted to ask of the chassis, all of which it answers with a derisory snort, as if to say it could cope with even more power if you asked it to.It sounds like crazy talk, but at $62,000, this car is something of a bargain. Those who seek to buy the Bavarian brand for cache rather than corner-carving will counter that you can have a new, and far bigger, 320i from $49,900.Ignore the space issue and you realise that, compared to a 330i, or even a second hand M3, it's a hell of a cheap way to experience the magic of a BMW at full noise with perfect poise.It's interesting to ponder what else you might buy for the money, and only the Mitsubishi Evo IX really comes to mind. While the Evo is quicker, and cheaper, the difference in cabin quality and feel would make up the difference.And, considering our Cayman cover story last week, it's also apt to point out that, while the Porsche is a faster, and far prettier car, the levels of fun and involvement are nowhere near as far apart as the price differential would suggest.Truly, BMW has got this 1 right.