It can’t have escaped your notice that the Ford Capri, the Car You Always Promised Yourself, has started to rise in values. Traditionally it was the early versions that commanded the attention, but significant rises have been seen in MkIII prices recently.
This is in stark contrast to the way the Capri was seen in the run up to its demise. It had become an anachronism in a time when people wanted hatchback and saloon practicality as a side order to their performance Ford. The XR3i, XR2i, RS Turbo and the much-heralded Sierra Cosworth signed the death warrant for the Capri – outclassed on track and outperformed in the showroom, it was little wonder that the Blue Oval pulled the plug when it did.
Part of the problem was the Capri’s negative image – hairy-chested geezers in Elizabeth Duke jewellery alternating between the pub and the bookies on their day off. That was the perception, anyway – the reality was much, much different but that didn’t stop the Capri being incorrectly framed as four-wheeled transport for trapped-in-the-Seventies neanderthals in a time when lifestyle aspirations headed towards clean-cut executives (supposedly) in London’s financial centres, German super-saloons and, if you had to keep it Blue Oval, massively turbocharged and massively bodykitted hatchbacks.
In 1986 the Capri was finished after years of sales decline. As one last hurrah, the last 1083 Capris to roll out of the Cologne factory were to be given a name that still causes a tingling among the Capri faithful – the 280 Brooklands. But is idolising them wise? Let’s look…
WHY YOU WANT IT:
As the last-of-the-line model, all of Ford’s available trinkets were thrown at the car. This meant a limited-slip differential, 15-inch alloy wheels and sumptuous leather chairs. Under the bonnet lay a 2.8-litre V6 which chucked out a meaty 158bhp, which translated to 131mph at the top end and 0-60mph in a shade under eight seconds. That wasn’t the fastest Capri – the Tickford Turbo had more than 200 unruly equines for you to saddle, 140mph at the maximum and a sizzling six-second 0-60mph time. Sadly, the bodykit makes it look like a cardboard model of a Capri glued together by a drunkard.
But there’s more fun to be had in the corners – but not in the way you’d expect; some would see the Capri’s cornering characteristics as a negative – we’ll come to those later.
However, to sing the car’s praises a little more, we should consider the looks. While it lacks the American-style bling of the earlier cars, that long bonnet and and old-school looks haven't been replicated in modern motoring this small side of fifty grand. And for that, it simply looks cool, especially in the beautifully sinister Brooklands colour scheme.
WHY YOU DON’T WANT IT
Corners have traditionally provided problems for the Capri, especially in its hottest forms. The 3.0-litre V6 of the Seventies elicits much sucking of teeth from my car-reviewing colleagues when quizzed on the subject and I’m afraid if you’re looking for crisply intuitive handling, this isn’t the car for you. Braking is something that should be pondered like a Kasparov chess move before a corner appears, and when you get there that heavy engine drags the nose sideways and forwards; the steering is slow to respond too. There’s little body roll thanks to the stiffer suspension, but it’s really not an MX-5 with a Ford badge. Nor is it much of a GT, as aside from the leather interior it’s not what you’d call smooth – the ride is firm and it doesn’t sound refined. However…
SUMMARY
If you’re put off by the ‘negatives’, then you were lost to the Capri cause long before this paragraph. The handling is part of the appeal of this car, as is the frankly scandalously poor fuel consumption, raucous engine note and lascivious looks. It’s fun because it’s old-school and offers a driving experience that favours a skilled hand. You cannot simply chuck a Brooklands into a corner and hope that some front-wheel drive trickery will drag you out, nor can you expect traction control to make everything better. It’s just you and the Capri – and for that this fast Ford is something you learn to master. Much more satisfying, don’t you think?
I’ll have to admit my love of Fast Fords began with the car that effectively killed the Capri, the Sierra Cosworth. But over time, perhaps as a reaction against the nannying nature of modern cars and the blandness of modern ‘sports cars’, the Capri feels like a breath of fresh air.
Look at it this way – who’s more fun, the rippled muscles of the guy who spends hours in the gym, who drives to his job in a hyper-performance modern hatchback blob, or the geezer with a lifetime of stories from the Red Lion pub and a paunchy stomach he has to gently ease into his Capri?
Anyone got an Elizabeth Duke catalogue?