Posts Tagged ‘ford’

We love the English Pony...

Wednesday, November 16th, 2011

Sure, we can argue about it, but we’re probably going to end up agreeing that the Ford Capri was the defin­itive car of the 1970s, in the UK, at least. The dates match; first sold in ’69, the Capri’s sales started to slump in the late seventies, though it struggled on to 1986 in the UK, two years after it has been killed off elsewhere. It had the right looks for the decade that taste forgot; the curvy, Coke-​​bottle styling was straight from Detroit. The Capri was intended to copy the sales success Detroit was having with the Mustang too, and create a pony car for Europe.

But the timing was way off. Just as the Capri was going on sale here, recession and spiralling oil prices were killing the US muscle car stone dead. But this just made the Capri yet more repres­ent­ative of its time; under that long, glam-​​rock bonnet, the engines and trans­mis­sions were the automotive equivalent of the three-​​day week. Mechanically, the Capri shared much with the Ford Cortina, described by CAR magazine as ‘a calcu­lated attempt to sell the public ordin­ar­iness’ and ‘one of the least exciting automo­biles a major British manufac­turer has had the courage to launch since the middle fifties.’

The Capri didn’t improve on it much over its three gener­a­tions. Depending on where and when you bought it, your Capri might have had as little as 70bhp and no more than 138bhp until 1981, when the range-​​topping three-​​litre Essex V6 was replaced with a fuel-​​injected, 160bhp lump. Ironically, it was even sent to the States where it sold tolerably well for while in straightened times despite – or perhaps because of — its pencil-​​neck engines. Leaf springs meant the ride and handling wasn’t much better, but at least it was light; seventies austerity standard equipment and a laissez-​​faire attitude to safety meant your Capri probably didn’t weigh much more than a tonne, flyweight by today’s standards.

A few were brave enough to give road-​​going Capris the go to match the show. The South Africans gave it the V8 it deserved, dropping in the 5.0-litre V8 used in the Mustang to create the sadly little-​​known, low-​​volume Perana . In the UK, in its final days, the Tickford Turbo coaxed 205bhp from the 2.8-litre V8.

But if the standard cars were so terrible, why did we love them so much? Some smart TV product placement deals helped, as did the fact that it made a wicked looking race car which drew some famous names. Hill and Surtees raced a beautiful RS2600; Lauda and Mass campaigned a RS3100 in which the latter won the ’72 European Touring Car Championship, and the Zakspeed cars based on the MkIII were all wings, skirts and scoops, looked sharp enough to draw blood and won the prede­cessor to the DTM in 1981.

But ultimately, we loved the Capri because it did capture a bit of the Mustang’s mojo: while it might have been less than stellar to drive, it was still a desirable, affordable blue-​​collar hero, and that was about all you could expect at the time.

The Evolution of the Capri

Wednesday, November 16th, 2011

If you count the finned and chromed Consul GT version of the Capri, our favourite Ford has had four evolu­tions across a life-​​span of some 25 years. That’s if you don’t count, of course, the various stateside Fords that have borne the noble moniker. And though there have been subtle but certain changes in design, there’s a unity too. That unity is the marketing space that the Capri has occupied. More than anything else the Capri has repres­ented that achievable, practical desirab­ility to which the working man is able to aspire. We dig out some gems of the visual culture of the Capri.

Consul Capri GT 1961 – 64

All chrome, rake, fin and Americana, the Consul Capri was a glamorous if short-​​lived precursor to the full-​​blooded Capris. Doomed to be eclipsed by the similar, toned down Mk1 versions of Ford’s mass market star the Cortina, it was slow, heavy and a little overstyled for Dagenham. Its rakishness, however, hinted at the future.

MK1 Capri 1969 – 73

When the first Capri was launched in 1969 at the Brussels Motor Show it was received with enthu­siasm. Not wanting to exclude the mass European public, Ford covered the bases with a massive range of specs and engines, from lowly 1.3 everyman to vinyl and chrome clad GXL versions for the middle manager type. It was the GT version, however that would come closest to the aesthetic of its beefy American cousin. The ads reflected that urbane panache. You could almost smell the Brut 33.

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MK2 Capri 1973 – 78

By the mid-​​seventies the Capri had won a hardy and loyal following. Capri 2 consol­idated this success and added a hatchback, a stubbier bonnet and other innov­a­tions such as reclining seats. An even broader range of spec was intro­duced too — as well as the cult hit the JPS special, which referred to the successful Lotus JPS F1 team. And what’s more, they harnessed the sales acumen of Jackie Stewart (and his wife) to hawk the new Capri. “Beautiful”.
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MK3 Capri 1978 – 87

Although the MK 3 was more of an extensive facelift rather than a fresh model, the eighties Capri was given a new lease of life in 1981 with the racy 2.8i. This was Thatcher’s Capri, even more overtly aspir­a­tional and evocative, with its contem­porary signage and design details, of the decade when greed was good. Bodie helped keep the aging lotharia in front of the testosterone wracked portion of the UK public meanwhile, and various special editions helped work the Capri’s profile into the latter reaches of the decade. Though it never quite occupied the perennial place it should have done in UK car culture, there’s never been a racy, everyman GT to grace our roads. We think time just might be right to address this gaping omission.

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Modern Classic: Ford Capri

Wednesday, November 16th, 2011

Photography: Influx/​Magneto

I couldn’t afford a Mustang”, says 26-​​year-​​old Capri owner Pete Wallwork from Truro, Cornwall. I had asked the bike mechanic, BMX rider, barber and photo­grapher the obvious question. Why would a young gun be attracted to a Dagenham bred pastiche of American Muscle from the eighties?

I am actually really into American muscle cars, but there’s something unique about the Capri that is just as inter­esting, for me at least. There’s nothing like it in terms of British cars. There’s something about its shape, it’s attitude that just appeals to me.”

For a young man, Pete has surprising exper­ience of the hero of stylish blue-​​collar motoring. “I bought my first Capri for £200 when I was 17. It was a 2.0 litre S and it was just rotting in someone’s front garden so I took it off his hands.” Like many young lovers of old cars, the lust for a particular flavour of steel and grease came through the family thread. “My granddad always had Fords, and was always tinkering away with bits and pieces in his yard. So it’s not surprising that I would go for something like a Capri in the end.”

Pet’s current ride, a 1986 Mk 3, has its own character in itself. Its various modific­a­tions and stylistic tweaks produce a suitably badass aspect. “ I’ve never had so many people turn their heads and take notice. When I drive through town we get a lot of attention.“

The exhaust note probably has something to do with it. “The engine is actually a ‘Pinto’ two-​​litre bored out to 2.1. It’s got twin 45 Webers and an upgraded ‘beast’ exhaust, too.” The result of these wholly appro­priate modific­a­tions is a car that sounds properly strong and heavy, rather than all mouth-​​no trousers bark.

She drives really nicely, with the combin­ation of the engine and the rear axle from a 2.8i”. So what you see is genuine rarity in the big picture of British motoring. A mini GT that feels as if it’s meant to be driven over long distances, with real enthusiasm.

And the styling of this car reflects the visceral nature of its guts. Flared arches, clean black paintjob and slot mags complete the picture perfectly. “The car was actually originally a laser in white,”, Pete goes on, “ it came with the RS x-​​pack, factory produced fibre­glass arches. They wed to the steel beauti­fully.” That grille is from an earlier version of the car too,. Pete thinks it’s from a late MK1, but can’t be sure. Opinions anyone?

But whatever the hotch-​​potch of the car’s elements, it retains its pure bred DNA, that of a aspir­a­tional hang-​​dog, an Essex reared mongrel that pops its collar and never hides its light beneath a bushel. And that’s why we like Pete’s Capri.

The Professionals

Wednesday, November 16th, 2011

There are plenty of people who think that Laurie Johnson’s instantly recog­nisable, utterly seventies, wah-​​wah and brass theme tune for The Professionals was the best thing about it, and that every episode went rapidly downhill from there. But the title sequence left you in no doubt about two things. First, there was going to be action. And second, from the moment a MkI Granada — completely inexplicably — comes smashing through a plate glass window, you know the Ford Motor Company owns this show.

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I think I might have seen every episode of The Professionals. First shown between ’78 and ’83, I was just about old enough to watch the repeats in the late ‘80s before Martin Shaw, now seeing himself as a serious ac-​​tor, refused to let ITV show any more. Its comeback on the now-​​defunct Granada Plus cable channel in the late nineties unfor­tu­nately coincided with the start of my career as a freelance writer in my early twenties: it was the perfect work-​​displacement activity and meant a lot of missed deadlines.

But I’ve never thought it was any good. In tv-​​speak, The Professionals ‘jumped the shark’ in series 1, episode 1. It was always a parody of itself; you didn’t watch it for the scripts or the acting, but for the hilarious, high-​​camp, brain-​​out action. And for the Fords: Cowley’s grown-​​up Granada (with a telephone in it! A phone! In a car!), Doyle’s white Escort RS2000, and most of all, for the Capris.

The impressive but worry­ingly detailed fan site mark-1.co.uk has tracked down all the signi­ficant cars to feature in The Professionals. It records the brief dalliance with British Leyland vehicles, before the unreli­ab­ility of both the cars and the company got them the boot, and that a couple of MkII Capris featured in the show’s early days, including a very cool, very rare body-​​kitted example on Ronal alloys.

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But it’s the silver and bronze, quad-​​headlamp MkIIIs that CI5 agents Bodie and Doyle are most associated with, and which sealed the Capri’s reputation as the blue-​​collar bloke’s transport of choice. The image the Capri ended up with was a world away from the one Ford probably hoped for when it named its new coupe after a dolce vita Italian seaside resort. Bodie and Doyle epitomised an era when men were men, women were birds, bathing was optional and moisturiser unheard of. They thought nothing of spending all afternoon in the boozer before roaring off to the next cheaply-​​staged action scene in a Capri. The cars got plenty of camera time and spent much of it sideways, though that could only be achieved with the gratu­itous use of the handbrake as even the top-​​spec, Essex V6–powered 3.0S mustered only 138bhp.

But it worked for Ford. The Professionals followed neatly on from The Sweeney, which finished in ’78 and which Ford had also dominated, featuring its Granadas and Cortinas. Five years of prime-​​time exposure kept the Capri’s sales up in the UK when they were slumping elsewhere. It was finally offed in 1984 in the other European markets but lived on for another two years here. Not only did Bodie and Doyle save the UK from Russian agents, nuclear disaster and various sniper madmen, but they saved our favourite coupe too, and for that we can almost forgive Martin Shaw’s terrible cardigans and bubble perm. Almost.

Working Class Hero: RS 2600

Wednesday, November 16th, 2011

photo­graphy: James Lipman

If you’re died in the wool Capri perv you won’t need to be told the following. For you the burly MK1 homolog­ation special will occupy that special place in your psyche repres­ent­ative of all things Ford that float your prolet­arian boat.

If on the other hand, you’re not partic­u­larly of the persuasion, here are the basics, by way of intro­duction to James Lipman’s lovely images of what must be the most famous Capri to roll off the lines.

The RS2600 was MK1 with a V6 2.6 litre engine. It was a homolog­ation special and so only a round fifty were made — launched at the Swiss motor show in 1970.

It was light. The exterior shell consisted of fibre­glass and thin gauge steel. Some of the windows were perspex and appar­ently even the paint was of a thinner mix to help shave off the ounces. Those distinctive extra flared front arches were an after­thought, included to deal with a wider front track and rubber.

The stripped down nature of the thing meant that it tipped the scales at a little under a metric tonne. It was fuel injected (a first for a production Ford) and they were relat­ively quick, topping out at a little over 120MPH.

They weren’t around for long because the group they were homologated for soon became a three litre class. You guessed it — enter the RS3100!

There’s loads of other fine, reductive detail that can be gleaned elsewhere, partic­u­larly the RS owners club sites etc.

Every little bit of mimicry and simulacra have been attempted, the sum of which has made originals of these cars very desirable, if not infused with a particular kind of Dagenham mysticism.

Whatever your relationship with the Ford brand and all it has repres­ented over the years, we think you’ll agree that this is a pretty attractive-​​looking car.

When it comes down to it, this is about as close Britain ever came to a full-​​blown muscle car. It might have only produced the sort of horsepower that you entry level 2011 Golf pumps out, but hey. For a forty two year old, it’s looking sleek and sexy. Middle age can be a beautiful time.

Barry Lee, Ford & Rallycross

Monday, June 6th, 2011

Barry Lee, charis­matic king of the UK Rallycross scene of the 1970s, used to own the garage around the corner from where I lived in East London as a kid.

There was something so completely of the time about our Barry. He was like a cross between Barry Sheene and James Hunt — but with a greasier, prole-​​ish edge.

He repres­ented all that was cool and Ford-​​like for everyone populating either side of the A13. And this was a mile or so down the road from Dagenham — Ground zero, of course, for all things Ford.

The only surprising thing was that he never got a Brut 33 campaign like the other Barry or our ‘Henry– those other working class media heroes of the age.

Except it wasn’t that surprising really.

Because Rallycross, for all it’s wheel to wheel racing and spectacular shunts; for all its access­ib­ility and the all round driving ability you needed to master it, never captured the glamour of the seventies in the same way as the higher end of motorsport.

Shame. because there was something uniquely appealing about a formula that pitched stripped down cars that you were used to seeing on the streets spanking around tarmac and dirt combo short track — with regular comings together and outrageous overtakes — was something that inspired boy racers from the esturine marshes of Essex to the high roads of Scotland.

But Barry Lee was a true advocate of road safety too. He came and drove his black Ford RS 2000 round our school playground to demon­strate the effect­iveness of smooth driving over the screech-​​and-​​burn, Halford stick-​​ons style of those afore­men­tioned boy racers.

It’s not all over for Rallycross. There’s a nascent scene all over the UK and in parts of Europe that continues to entertain and inspire — it’s just that at the moment it’s drowned out by the cacophony of other forms.

Power to its elbow.

GT40 Love

Wednesday, January 26th, 2011

It was an obvious choice — the defin­itive fast ford, one that will always be remembered as the Ferrari and Porsche-​​slaying slab of automotive sinew and muscle that rode to glory. And we’ll never get tired of posting onboard footage like the clip below from Le Mans, 1969.

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The thing is about the GT40 is that it looked every bit as exotic and purposeful as anything circling the Circuit De Sarthe, but that it bore the Ford badge — and as such repres­ented the brand that more people could identify with than any other on the planet. In having such great racing success Ford made sure that motor­sport was not perceived as being confined to the rarified upper strato­sphere of car consumption.

Wouldn’t it be nice if Ford made a bold entrance as a works team into F1? Can you imagine the support it would inspire?