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Read what they say about the BMW 135i coupe on the various Internet chat rooms and amateur enthusiast Web sites and you would be forgiven for thinking that BMW has dropped a huge you-know-what. Because the bottom line, certainly as far as this particular type of audience is concerned, seems to be that the 135i is overweight, not especially cheap beside the mechanically similar 335i, not as roomy as its big brother, and nowhere near as good looking inside and out (with the major emphasis falling on the out).
Look at the raw ingredients and it’s not difficult to see why someone who hasn’t driven the 135i might reach such a negative conclusion. On paper this car costs a not inconsiderable $35,000, weighs a curiously insignificant 90 lbs less than the roomier 335i, and when it comes to the styling, let’s just say it divides opinion and leave it at that.
Except in this instance looks play such a key factor in the 135i’s game plan that it’s a cop-out not to make some sort of aesthetic judgment. So maybe the best way to express an opinion is to say that out of the five people who went on this group test, only one actually liked the 1-series coupe’s styling. And he didn’t just like it, he loved it, while the other four felt just as strongly in the other direction.
So what happens next? Where does the 135i go, having hit the first few hurdles so hard that the competition would already seem to have disappeared out of sight?
Well, for starters is the fact that BMW’s reputation as a producer of many of the world’s best driver’s cars is there for a good reason. BMW simply doesn’t make mistakes as big as this when it comes to cars like this. The form book, in other words, points too strongly in the 135i’s favor.
Here’s why. The moment you look beyond the obvious comparisons with the 335i, the smaller car soon begins to define itself as a model in its own right. There’s a whole range of small but significant features that distinguish it as a more focused product, not least its new electronic diff which, in practice, works almost exactly like a full-blown limited-slip differential, even though on paper it is nothing of the sort.
What we are talking about is a car that’s smaller, slightly lighter, a fair bit more agile and therefore faster than the 335i on any given road, and that’s with just about any driver at the wheel. Most obviously it’s the 135i’s extra agility the fact that it feels smaller on the road from behind the wheel that defines it as something different from (and sharper than) a 335i.
Sharp enough to wear an M badge and make the new M3 appear an irrelevance? That’s what the Porsche Cayman and Nissan 350Z are here to help establish.
Being reasonably subtle in our approach to these things, we didn’t want merely to lob the 135i up against a new M3 and ask the question directly, because we knew ultimately that it would get thumped. But if it could get close to rivals as juicy as the entry-level 245bhp Cayman ($49,400) and the recently uprated 306hp 350Z ($28,000 entry level) then at least the 135i would prove its point. Choosing to spend vastly more on a fractionally faster and only slightly more focused M3 would then be a matter for genuine debate.
Behind the wheel
Ignore the styling and, once you climb aboard, the 135i is one of those cars that immediately feels right somehow, mainly because it seems so compact inside compared with so many other cars of today. You get the impression that it’s as big as it needs to be and no more, a bit like a 911 used to feel inside before it got bloated.
Although the optional electric driver’s seat is set a wee bit too high, the view forward to the instruments and through the windshield to the road beyond is pure and clear; there are few fripperies to distract you. Climb into the Nissan and it feels half as wide again, while in the Cayman the driving position may be the best of the lot but the cabin itself is fussy and cluttered, a mess beside the BMW’s.
Unfortunately from the point of view of simplicity, this 135i is fitted with just about every option under the sun, from a Professional sat-nav system (an expensive but also excellent addition) to those electrically adjustable front seats). Yet even when loaded with goodies there’s a straightforward simplicity and a clarity of function to the 135i that eludes the 350Z inside, and to a lesser extent the Porsche.
And when it comes to packaging, it’s in a league of its own. Not only are there four seats instead of two, as there are in both Porsche and Nissan, but the rear seats themselves are also reasonably usable in that a 6ft-tall rear passenger can just about sit behind a 6ft driver. And there’s a decent trunk not so in the other two.
On the road
All of this will mean nothing, however, unless the 135i can take most of what the Porsche and Nissan can throw at it on the road. And if it can’t, it might as well pack up and go home immediately, accompanied by gales of laughter from the Internet brigade.
But it can take the heat. In fact, in many ways it’s the most impressive car on the road, and certainly the most able all-’rounder. It does such a large number of things with such an obvious degree of integrity that to doubt it would be naοve in the extreme.
And yet, when you climb from the 135i to the 350Z and then to the Cayman, there is a distinct sense that in attempting to be a Jack of all trades the BMW ends up being master of zilch. Is that fair? Probably not, but there is a certain lack of focus to the 135i’s dynamic repertoire which the Porsche, especially, hikes right out into the spotlight.
Drive it in isolation over a quiet, fast stretch of road and you may never so much as sniff the 135i’s lack of edge. It rides surprisingly well for a car wearing M Sport suspension, the steering is meaty and precise without being overly neurotic, the body is well controlled over all surfaces and the brakes are powerful, if a little too much so when you brush them lightly. And boy, does the 135i go when you change down a gear and put your foot down.
Even if you don’t change down it still goes hard enough to raise your pulse. And blow both of the others yes, even the new and improved 350Z clean into the undergrowth. It’s so much faster in a straight line than the Cayman that over a flowing country road without too many corners in it you can easily drop the Porsche without ever having to shift out of sixth gear. That’s how much more mid-range thrust there is from the 135i’s twin-turbo 300hp/295lb ft straight six compared with the Porsche’s 2.7-liter atmospheric flat six.
In the end this is what defines the 135i’s entire driving experience: its seemingly never-ending reserve of acceleration, be that at 2000rpm in sixth gear or, better still, at 6000rpm in third gear. No matter how monumental the flow of torque feels from 2500-4000rpm, it’s nothing compared with the way the 135i rips towards the horizon over the last 1500rpm. BMW claims this car is faster fractionally than the old E36 M3, but you can’t help thinking Munich is being unusually kind to the old-timer with the comparison.
Either way, the 245hp version of the Cayman is nowhere beside the 135i for pure performance, lacking not just torque and power but also one gear ratio (it has just five forward gears), which does absolutely nothing to help you plug the gaps in the flat six’s mid-range.
Even the 350Z struggles and fails to compete with the mighty 135i, not so much at the top end but, once again, in the mid-range. This is where the BMW’s two turbos really deliver against the bigger-capacity, slightly higher-revving but non-turbocharged 3.5-liter Nissan. And that’s before you mention the 350Z’s slow, heavy gearchange, which feels like something out of a 10-year-old commercial vehicle beside that of the others.
So what is it, then, about the 135i that fails to hit the bullseye? After all, it’s quicker and more refined than either of the others roomier, cheaper, nicer to sit in, more comfortable on long journeys, and probably more economical, so long as you aren’t thrashing to the red line all the time.
In the end it all comes down to that old, hard-to-define intangible called feel. The BMW has some but not enough. The Nissan almost has too much. And the Porsche, well, it’s just something else. Somewhere else. Operating on a higher plane, doing what it does in a manner in which the BMW driver will simply never experience.
The steering of the Cayman alone is almost enough to make you want to rush out and buy one without thinking. It’s so detailed in its communication and so pure in its response to your inputs that it makes the BMW’s steering feel dull and predictable when it isn’t. Even the 350Z, which has lovely steering in isolation, feels muted and dead by comparison.
And then there’s the rest of the Cayman’s chassis the way it feels so poised when loaded up halfway through a quick corner, the speed and precision with which it turns into bends, the traction on the way out of them and the grip it develops anywhere and everywhere on the road. Also the way it flows so smoothly from apex to apex, breathing perfectly with the road below, telling you precisely what’s going on beneath your backside, not just via the steering wheel rim but through the seats and pedals as well.
Drive the Cayman badly over a good road and you will still realize what a beautifully well balanced and communicative car this is. Drive it well, over a great road that’s fast and empty, and you’ll emerge at the other end dizzy with pure pleasure, knowing that you’ve been touched by greatness. And at that point you’ll know, too, what the BMW and to a lesser extent the 350Z is missing. And for some reason this particular example seemed especially peachy, even though it was down on power and a gear ratio short beside the faster, more expensive Cayman S. Make of that what you will.
Of course, the sensible money still says the BMW must win, in spite of the Cayman’s more obvious ability to take you to another place dynamically. And if having four seats and a decent-size trunk is in any way a priority in your motoring life then, inevitably, the local BMW dealer is the only direction in which to head.
But the best car here without a single hint of a doubt is the Cayman. The BMW may be an extremely good all-’rounder and a much better car than the Internet critics would have you believe but it can’t match the Cayman overall, even if it beats the 350Z at a canter. Porsche wins again while BMW proves its point, especially if you need four seats.
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