Car of the Week - Week 111: Toyota GR Yaris 1st Edition RZ"High performance"

Due to some horrifically debilitating issue that was only vaguely described to me as "instability", Car of the Week offices have cut down in operations for this week, and apologise for any inconvenience caused. To translate, their entire server room caught on fire this week, and the closest thing they've in their offices that resembles an extinguisher is leftover champagne from their celebrations of actually getting a PS5. They do not apologise for ALL for the inconvenience surely caused to their employees, whom they still expect to churn out a review by the same deadline. That means no affluent flights around the world to run the car around in hot blooded competition nor videos of such racing, no professional photographers, much less editors. No fanciful hotels, and certainly no car sourced for me to review. This means that I have to go buy it for myself... and actually take care of the thing — by my man child self — so that it might be worth something when I flip it after the review.

Despite appearances, this job isn't very profitable. In fact, sometimes, I pay to work. It's good incentive to either get on Vic's driving level to draw in crowds and sponsors to spray brand names all over your car, become the de facto advertising arm like Nismo and his Twitch channel, or just... you know, write better reviews that others actually want to read. But hey, this is fun worth paying for, and cars like this week's is what my old, retired, condescending butt suffers months for to get a chance to sample: this week, we're testing the Toyota GR Yaris 1st Edition RZ"High performance". No, there isn't a space between the "RZ" and the opening quotation marks, nor is the "p" in "performance" uppercase. Yes, I checked and double checked. I don't know if the car is supposed to be "High performance", or if the people in charge of naming it were tasked to put on a "High performance".

...oh my god, I think I can actually see where people are coming from when they tell me I'm overly condescending in my reviews.

Upon my arrival at the GR Yaris launch event at Fuji Speedway in a Taxi, I was led to the paddock area, where a bunch of creatively designed Yarises (Yarii?) sat in the dark, already donning liveries bearing the names of some of my colleagues who couldn't be here. Someone else — I'm not sure who — has set aside a plain body car for me true to my MO... in non factory standard pink.

Possessed Yaris by Rob_on_Drums Livery Link

Madfactory X Puyo Pop Yaris by Pyano1132 Livery Link

The staff's response to my outburst of "ITTAI NANI ZAA FAKKU, KORE WA?!", was that it's apparently a very popular colour on the Yaris, especially among the younger, tech savvy demographic of Yaris buyers, whatever correlation technology has with a flat pink paintjob in the even flatter corporate answer I was given. Also, I'm not sure if they've been made aware, but I'm semi retired now? Acting young isn't my sort of thing, and I'm certainly no spring chicken by racing driver standards, physically or mentally. Because of my age, I've absolutely no idea why kids would suddenly fawn over a pink Yaris. I suppose it does make it easy to find this otherwise nondescript box of a car in a parking lot, which apparently is enough to qualify it as being "technologically advanced". And there I was thinking cars today are getting too complicated for their own good.

Because of how fast these things were selling, every car on exhibit has been spoken for, and so it was either drive this accursed pink Yaris, or not do my job properly for the second week in a row. My balls weren't just in the figurative vice; they are, against all conventional laws in the known universe, rapidly losing mass as I sized up my exhibitionistic cage this week.

The GR Yaris is Toyota's first car to feature a performance oriented AWD system in 20 years since the Celica, coined the GR-FOUR, and offers drivers three options for centre torque split depending on the drive mode selected: 60/40 F/R in Normal Mode, 30/70 for Sport Mode, and, very oddly, 50/50 for Track Mode, when I could've sworn the industry lingo for that was, "don't". The GR Yaris is built as a homologation model for Toyota to enter the WRC, and I can already hear the shockwaves generated from one of my colleagues' throbbing erection all the way over here even before he publishes his review, even though I've only had mixed feelings about homologation model cars so far, much to my chagrin (believe me, I want to like things). It will be hard to disagree with him this week though, as this production car packing amenities such as air con, stereo, requisite safety equipment, kiddy youthful stuff like Android Carplay and smart ways to get into the car (whatever that means) weighs in at a sports car humiliating 1,290kg (2,844lbs), and I gotta say, that really restored a little bit of faith in humanity that we can still get a car this light in 2020. For some context, that's just 50 kilos (132lbs) more than a GT86, while packing 70HP (53kW) more and AWD.

To help achieve that anorexic figure, the GR Yaris shares barely any body panels with the base car, and even unabashedly boasts bare carbon fibre parts assembled in Toyota's Motomachi plant, famous for being the plant where the LFA was assembled. On the GR Yaris, the black woven magic is most prominently on display as the single piece roof panel (which looks more like marble than CF, but eh, I'll trust that no one will take a prank that far). The chassis may operate on logic that seems more suited for a Mr. Bean show than motorsports: sawing a Yaris into two aft the front doors, and then gluing a sawn off C-HR at the rear to form a 3 door hatchback with a much widened rear track over the base Yaris, but the whole package works surprisingly well stylistically, and if Master Driver Morizo is to be trusted, should work even better on the track. That's right: the CEO of Toyota, Toyoda Akio, otherwise known as "Master Driver Morizo", had more than an obsessive amount of time behind the wheel of the car when in development phase, and thus personally signs each "First Edition" GR Yaris on the windscreen. However, when I checked my pink car, there was no signature on it. Of course I asked about it. Apparently, there was no way Toyoda-san was putting his signature on a pink car, and if he's known by the kids as the most "hip", "trendy", "straight fire" and "boss autofocus (whatever those mean)" of CEOs, then it just proves that my views aren't outdated or overly condescending.

I groan and stretch out to my body to break the tired, slight hunch I've had this whole time looking at the car, cracking a few bones in the process. Time to make me feel young again then, eh Yaris-chan?

On a wide open and smooth track like Fuji, it was immediately clear that the GR Yaris is as close to a racing car as modern rules and regulations will allow; it's taut, immediate, darty, light on its feet, and responds wonderfully proportionately and immediately to your extremities' every twitch. It rarely puts a wheel wrong on the track, as there are no perceptible electronic nannies or pretentious engineers who think they know the best way to drive to veer this carbon shroud monstrosity off the strict racing line; only the 268HP (200kW) that it has, an immensely capable AWD system, and the driver's clumsy, aging foot. However, I did notice some slight pushing understeer under trail braking, which is perhaps to be expected given the front mass bias of this hatchback chassis and AWD. There seems to be a certain way to coax it into biting a corner, and I'm sure Impreza or Evo owners will know what I'm talking about. Me personally though, I'm not used to driving AWD cars, and thus struggle with hitting apexes in this thing, and I've had to compensate by braking earlier than I perhaps need to. The brakes on the GR Yaris does slow it down exceptionally well, especially when coupled with the drag of a hatchback shape, and braking points are almost on par with GT3 racing cars, which made for a particularly easy drive around Fuji, especially with that accursed first corner following a near 1.5km straight.

The GR Yaris' seemingly paradoxical combination of light mass, AWD, and shocking power to boot means that acceleration out of low speed corners makes this thing a true pocket rocket. In the few hours of spirited driving I've had in it thus far, I never got used to how fast the GR Yaris gains speed out of a corner; it surprises me still from time to time, and I still understeer out of corners as a result, not because the suspension is floppy or the tyres weren't up to the task, but because I'm an ex racing driver and not a rocket scientist with a laptop: handling rocket launches is WAY beyond my pay grade and JD.

The only time it will attempt to yank itself from your grasp is if you ask it to, because this car, in track mode with 70% of the torque going to the rear, will swing its rear out on you if you're abusive with your feet, all without ever touching the handbrake. Even then, it's always a quick flash of counter steer away from returning to the straight and narrow. Rather than a fault of the car, I get this distinct impression its set up that way for either a driver way more skilled than I, or to just enable the car to slide better on dirt. You can certainly predict and control it, as even when the car starts to slide, it never ever once felt like it ever gets away from under your fingertips and toes, as the car maintains some composure while always being communicative, up to and way past its limits. You certainly feel the centre differential locking up and causing the front wheels to go as well if you... *ahem* encourage it a little mid slide, allowing for some hairy moments of all wheel drift if you're skilled enough. Make no mistake, this is a driver's car, way more so than most pretentious "sports" cars.

As brilliant as the car is on a paved racetrack, it only truly comes alive on a narrow winding mountain pass with bad road conditions. There, the rally car roots of the GR Yaris really began to shine and become apparent: the car sailed over very pronounced bumps and never once gave me a surprising moment, as the car maintains composure and control over every undulation, dip, and rise in the road. The extreme front mass bias on the GR Yaris makes its the aforementioned tail happiness a scary inevitability rather than a slap on the wrist for overly aggressive driving on narrow, rapidly twisting mountain roads, as the featherweight rear end will step out without fail under most downhill braking zones if you've even a slight lock of steering applied under braking. While I was quietly lamenting the lack of a fully adjustable centre diff before taking delivery of my car, I don't think I would've set any more torque going to the rear even if I did have the option, as the car is right on the verge of being a nuisance in Sport Mode*, which is exactly how I like my cars to handle. It will certainly require years of driving RWD cars on the limit and precise pedal and wheel control on these roads to properly rein back in this 3 door hatchback before you smack head first into a wall, but this just means you get to (and have to) slide this thing round corners. Because I don't drift, I can't tell you how well it drifts, and so I defer you to the British Toufu delivery driver colleague for that matter, though I do have this oddly vivid dream that a certain Kiwi was sliding it round Tsukuba as well. Does that not belong in a review? Ahh well, I suppose my editor will edit it out if it doesn't.

*I don't actually know if it's in Sport Mode. Feels like it with how tail happy it is.

As I close out my first week of ownership with a GR Yaris, I'm feeling... oddly conflicted about it. Usually, with cars, my brain tells me I shouldn't like something my heart loves, but with the GR Yaris, it's the exact opposite: my brain tells me I should love this thing and praise it like the second coming of your preferred deity, but I'm just not feeling it in my heart. I consciously recognise that it's everything a sports car should be, and the talent and passion of the people behind it is clear as day. It's properly lightweight, has just the right amount of power, does not care about 0-100 times, practicality, or fuel economy. It is properly special, crazy, and limited. It even has a six speed stick! It's fun to drive! It would make an FD RX-7 or R34 GT-R sweat around any given track! I legitimately think that this is the single best enthusiast's car you can buy new today, and that you'd have to be a medically certifiable loon to feel otherwise. But it's just... I don't know if after this week, I'll wake up one morning and go, "you know what? I would REALLY want to drive the GR Yaris instead of my FD RX-7 or 981 GT4".

For a while, I wondered if I still had a pulse. I wondered if I should still be doing this job if I can't fall in love with a GR Yaris. I wondered if there was something horrifically wrong with me. And then I took my FD out on the same roads as I had the Yaris, and I immediately smiled. I immediately felt special. I was seated so low to the asphalt I could smell it. The impeccable balance the FD had was so much more fun to work with. The effortlessly silky smooth whine of the Rotary Engine kept telling me emphatically I was truly in something special and unique, and despite the 13B having told me that for a good portion of my life, it never once got old. And when I parked it back and locked it up, I couldn't help but to look back at it and smile like the kid I had been when I first saw it. Thrice. And I think it helped me realise why the Yaris just hadn't done it for me.

It could've been properly balanced. It could've been set lower to the ground. It could've been something designed from the ground up to light your senses on fire and be the best toy money could buy, instead of being a Frankenstein thing cobbled together to be capable. It could've had a truly unique engine. It could've stuck out in your shopping mall's parking lot even without a garish paintjob. It could've been something you took ONE glance at and immediately want. It could've been the car that spoke to that 10 year old kid inside me. It could've been the A90 Supra. It could've been the GT86. It could've been an MR2. All this passion, all this engineering, could've went into the body of a properly balanced sports car, but it didn't.

Toyota is capable of being so amazing, yet they just always seem to miss out on that last 5 or so percent of making something that is truly must-have, no ifs, not buts, no second thoughts. And I suppose the GR Yaris is Toyota at its purest and best. You could say that the GR Yaris is Toyota's essence distilled and saturated into a car. And that car is a three door hatchback. I want it, but I don't know if I want it. Every time I look at it, I see Toyota at their indisputable best in decades, perhaps even ever, but I also get the contradictory feeling that it could've been that much better. And it's such a bummer feeling to have when you look at your sports car.

I really am overly condescending and there truly is no joy left for me in this world. I'm sorry, my FD. I know you're tired. But you can't retire yet.

I apologise for my old man tastes and rambling, and also for my indecision about the car. I hope no one was expecting this to be a proper review.

Car of the Week - Week 109: Alfa Romeo 4C Gr. 3 Road Car

The madmen. They've gone and done it. We're finally testing an Alfa for the first time in COTW.

I've never really gotten the appeal of Alfas, or understood how they haven't yet gone bankrupt. Their cars supposedly have such "soul" and much "passion", but to the uninitiated, they're just cars that break silly and break often. There's even a saying in the car community to sum this up that goes, "You can't be a true petrolhead until you've owned an Alfa". The gist of the saying is that, by owning a car that was as horrifically and unbelievably prone to breaking as though designed by the Italian cousins of Edward Murphy, you'll experience the most distilled and purest of automotive joy, as your hands will never be clean and you'll always be late for work or stranded. Or just begging for help on Alfa forums. That's the essence of the joys of motoring, isn't it? Such soul! Much passion!

I honestly can't even tell if the saying is a joke, or if it's actually meant to be taken seriously, as a way to romanticise pain and hardship and for Alfa owners to justify to themselves that they've made a good purchase. Or maybe they just want attention. I don't know. And I don't want to know. But alas, either by the blind loyalty of the extremely niche market of rich petrolhead masochists or some black art sorcery support system I'm not privy to, Alfa Romeo is still in business today, and this week, I'm blindfolded, gagged, whipped, and half kicked, half pulled by the leash of my employment contract obligations into the dungeon of despair that is Alfa ownership for a week.

4C　ewgeror980 by ewgeror980 livery link.

Somehow, I get a feeling that this wasn't the car the masochists have adorning their bottomless pits of pain when they recite their memes with dipsticks embedded in them.

For starters, the car didn't explode when I pressed the engine start button. The wipers work, as do the lights, and the wheels haven't fallen off at the daunting parking lot speeds of 10km/h! Rather than the car, it was the person, i.e. me, that caught a bad case of the Alfanxiety Romeouminate the moment I read that we're testing an Alfa Romeo and broke down this week, missing the meet and hence why this review in isolation. It's contagious, apparently. And its transmissible through text. But hey, employment contractual obligations.

To ensure that I'll have at least ten combined minutes in motion behind the wheel this week to formulate an opinion worthy of your money, the unerring and frighteningly effective mechanics at COTW have made every reassurance that the car will work as intended, making sure every wire is as securely connected and protected as being put into a straitjacket, every body panel is as persistently part of the car as a scar, and the engine will be as incapable of dying as someone who's selfishly told that suicide is selfish and not a solution, no matter how much they want to. But, perhaps due to their obsession with the mechanical and electrical components, something in the interior did manage to break unnoticed: the seats on this particular press car are completely stuck in place like a bad coping habit, because being not quite right is just part of the Alfa DNA, just as depression can be. It's amazing how elevated and refined an art form hiding pain and personal flaws can be.

Sitting in an Alfa to me is akin to walking into a modern art gallery: I don't understand the appeal of any of it. I'm sorry, but if you've to explain to someone what your art means and why it's important, your piece of art has failed to move people as intended. For Alfa Romeo, that last sentence is often more literal than figurative.

The original 4C is a car that, like other Alfas, I didn't really understand. I had an opportunity to quickly test drive the Launch Edition once, and I found it to be way too rear happy under any circumstance and lacking in front end grip, resulting in both under and oversteer, sometimes simultaneously. This was not helped at all by how rough I found the gear changes from the DCT to be. If you're going to make a tiny, lightweight, expensive, problematic, highly compromising, focused sports car, at least make it fun to drive, maybe? Offer a manual, perhaps? I hear the 4C's styling has such "soul" and much "passion", but it's not like the Elise, Cayman, and A110 are particularly awful to look at. Overall, it's an immensely capable car, one that I appreciate for existing as an alternative to the Cayman (I do sometimes try to be unbiased, I swear ;) ), but I'm admittedly not a fan of these rear mid engined short wheelbase cars with souped up econobox engines. With a tune, perhaps it could be something really special, but do you really want to open the aftermarket Pandora's Box with a car that's already so prone to going wrong even when everything is within the manufacturer's scope of normal use?

So, what's changed in this "Gr. 3 Road Car" from the base 4C? Well, a rather handsome body kit which just so happens to generate downforce, for a start. Unsurprising, given that the road car borrows more than heavily from the Gr. 3 race cars that Alfa enters in FIA-GT's Gr. 3 category. What hasn't been carried over however, is the shadow scraping ride height of the racing cars, resulting in a horrifying wheel well gap accommodating enough to hide all your problems and feelings in, comically destroying the svelte proportions and menacing stance of an otherwise serious business looking car, along with any hope of controlling airflow under the body in an act of self sabotage. The turbo with an engine attached to it to was already boosting to within millimetres of it the Inline 4's life in the stock car, but here, boost has been further upped to a gasket shredding, casket teasing 1.5 Bar (21.7psi), to produce 330kW (443HP) and 447.8N⋅m (330.3ft-lb) from the 1742cc package, and specific power ratios that would make a Rotary Engine judge in jealousy.

On the inside, the road car borrows from the racing car a very helpful rear facing camera and a aftermarket looking screen used exclusively for the rear view, jutting out of the dash where the air con vents should've been, because who needs air con in a road car? And if you're thinking of ripping it out, don't. The rear window has been sealed shut by a dark, opaque wall, much like a heart in response to a trauma in the past, meaning that dinky, disruptive, air con robbing screen is your only rear view aside from your side mirrors.

Highly irritating and completely baffling is the gearbox of this Gr. 3 Road Car: it uses an automated manual operated by the stock car's paddles, which were used to shift a rather brisk DCT auto in the stock car. "Oh, you want a manual in a 4C? Here, have a manual in a 4C. What are you upset about now? We gave you exactly what you asked for!" So, counter-intuitively, shifts in the G3RC take several times the duration of the DCT in the stock car, or what an average driver can manage if they were just given three pedals and a stick, while somehow being rougher still when shifted mid corner. I've shifted vans faster and smoother than this gearbox changes gears! As a result of being fitted with a shit gearbox that feels lifted right out of the early 2000s, you have to drive this thing like a manual with auto rev matching to get the best out of it; you have to manually lift off the gas and gently roll back into it mid corner to prevent the rear end from jerking loose, and I'm almost certain manually lifting helps the revs drop faster for a quicker upshift. Trust me when I say that whatever pace advantage you might have being able to left foot brake in this two pedal setup is more than negated by the utterly disgraceful and insufferable shifts of this thing. I know I just whined about how the 4C doesn't have a manual option, but this alternative is so much worse, it's borderline offensive. Feels like an autistic kid trying to change himself to adapt and fit into a world he doesn't understand, and I can't even tell if it's done out of spite or a genuine effort to better themselves.

And it's such a shame, too, because the reworked ratios in this shit gearbox are brilliant and complement this engine so well, being short, peppy, and ensuring you always have revs and torque for every situation. Not that the engine really needs much coddling; one of the highlights of the stock car was its engine, which made peak torque at a near idle 2,000rpm, and pulls all the way to the redline of 7,000, making it a joy to wring on a track and easy to use on the streets. With the increase in boost in the G3RC also came a shifting of the powerband towards the upper range, and redline has been increased to a a therapist worrying 8,500rpm. Peak torque in the G3RC comes in only at 5,500rpm as a result, and the engine still likes to have its naughty little neck wrung, resulting in an engine that has an ample powerband for the track, but becomes a little irritating to work around at pedestrian pace, especially with that farce of a gearbox. The powerband is so linear and predictable in both these cars that it truly felt like an NA at times, and lag was minimal.

The original car's highly irritating handling vices, such as the pushing understeer on turn in and tail happiness everywhere, have been almost medicated and numbed out completely. In fact, aside from the very similar engine noises and largely intact interior, there is absolutely nothing at all from behind the wheel that resembles a 4C. The car has bulked up markedly in dimensions, increasing in length and width by 350.5mm and 81.3mm respectively (13.8in, 3.2in), while being dropped 5.1mm in overall height (0.2in). Wheelbase looks to have been increased as well, though I wasn't given the exact numbers, nor did I bring a ruler for a test drive. To really rein in the tail happy car, tyres have been upsized as well for both the front and rear; might as well, right? Given the flared bodykit?

All this sounds wonderful for performance, but once I got onto the track, I felt somehow more frustrated driving this beefed up G3RC than I did the stock car: the differential was set up astoundingly tight, and when coupled with the chunky rear tyres, understeer was very pronounced, especially on power. I was constantly trying to fight the differential to meet the apex on turn in and stay on the road for corner exit, much to the dismay of the front tyres screaming in agony, and you can tell the completely unassisted steering of the 4C was not meant to wrestle itself like this. Because I was always fighting the differential, the car was very prone to snapping in an instant between chronic understeer and severe acute oversteer, without much warning or leeway in transitioning and modulating between the two. Add to the fact that this car SOMEHOW gained a not-even-funny 370kg (816lbs) over the EDM 4C, and you have a driving experience that is completely unrecogniseable from the stock 4C. I mean, what the hell even? Is it the god awful gearbox? Are the flared fenders made of Osmium? Was the road car BoPped too to be as uncompetitive as its racing car cousins? Or has it been binge eating on comfort food to mourn the end of the 4C's production?

At the end of the day, it's a mid engine sports car. It's not terrible; it's capable in the right hands. It's still light by today's standards at 1,320kg (2,910lbs), and is plenty powerful for its mass. It looks good. But... who is it? What gives it its own flavour? What sets it apart from the oceans of other mid engine sports and supercars? What does it say or do differently than anyone else? Only that it's an Alfa? The problem is made even worse now that it has grown in size — and mass, to be your cookie cutter Cayman with a quarter of its charisma and reliability. I never liked the original 4C much, but this just feels like it has tried too much to change into something it never should've been, either willingly or otherwise, and is worse off for being less distinct and expressive as a result. The only interaction you'll have with it is fighting: fighting the differential on the track, fighting the wheel, and fighting the automated manual at town speeds and at every upshift. And unlike the red Italian rear mid engined 2 door supercar with chronic understeer making around 450PS that has chunky rear tyres, wonky shifts, and a steering wheel I've to wrestle at every turn from last week, there was no epiphany to be found in mastering the 4C G3RC. There is no reward to be had for getting everything just right on the track in this car. You simply coexist with the car in the best of times, and have a messy fight with it at its worst.

And what are you fighting for, anyway? It's never fun. It never made me smile. It doesn't communicate with me. It's just a car with no character. The more it changed, the more it threw away what made it unique and special, and now the only thing that's left of it is a fast car with a stupid gearbox, broken seats, and a lousy diff. And no, being constantly problematic and ill isn't a character trait.

No matter how debilitating an illness is, you can't let it define you as a person. You want to be the guy that likes to write as a hobby because it helped him get through tough times, not the guy who's always brooding and condescending in writing because of his past. You want a car to be an involving, cooperative, communicative, fun to drive, and unique experience, that then tends to require a bit more justifiable attention on and off the track, rather than the car that always breaks down that might be capable if it made it onto a track and didn't then decide to Irish Whip you into a barrier at the slightest push to get to know it better.

Because if being sick consumes you to the point where it becomes your only identifiable trait, who would you be if you were cured? What would you then be known for? If you let it define you so much, do you even want to be cured? Would it be a scary thought to lose your one defining trait? And that's why an illness can never be allowed define someone, no matter how debilitating and all consuming it may be. And that I feel is what has happened to the 4C Gr. 3 Road Car: it thinks that being pretty and constantly broken is all it needs, and it's almost comfortable and used to being the sick kid, expecting you to bend to fit its expectations and be loved regardless rather than come to a compromise for both sides. There was never any communication, and the power in this relationship is too skewed to one end. And I realise you can't force someone to talk to you if they don't want to open up, even if you've every intention to get to know them and help. Or maybe it has so many problems, it doesn't even know where or how to begin conveying it. Well, I guess I'll help it a little. By ripping it a new one.

I never was any good at dealing with crap like this.