At first, the 3 Series Coupe seems to be something of an
anomaly. It has the same wheelbase as its sedan brother, though
it is slightly shorter overall. It is 1.3-in narrower, but has
the same 59.1/59.6-in. front/rear track and is about two inches
lower. More to the point, the convertible model due next year is
rumored to be of the folding hardtop variety, making the Coupe a
hardtop without the utility of a removable roof. However,
determining desirability by description alone could have you
passing up a date with a tall, thin, dark-haired woman with a
large mouth and tattoos because you have no idea she’s Angelina
Jolie. "Ah," you say, "when you put it that way…" And so it is
with the 3 Series Coupe.
I’ll be the first to admit that the 3 Series has a reputation
for attracting buyers that are self-centered and unnaturally
brand conscious, a hangover from the days when Yuppies were
ascendant and discovered the car. And it is no different today.
In fact, it is such a cliché that you probably could write a
children’s book entitled A is for Arrogant, B is for BMW,
and everyone would know exactly what type of characters they’d
find within. Which might explain the reaction you get when people
see you in this car. Then again, it just may be jealousy for this
is the most accomplished 3 Series Coupe yet. Yes, that goes
without saying – it should be the best as it is the most recent –
but when the makers of the "Ultimate Driving Machine" introduce
technologies like iDrive and Active Steering that are technically
stunning but neither simple nor satisfying to use, you begin to
wonder if each new vehicle will be a delight or a disappointment.
To its credit, BMW has worked hard to make these technologies
more seamless and pure in response in every subsequent iteration,
but the fact that they are not perfect from the start begins to
shake one’s confidence in an automaker known for purity of
response and engineering excellence.
Complexity also lurks under the hood with a 3.0-liter inline
six fitted with twin turbos feeding three cylinders each, and
topped by lightweight camshafts with BMW’s double-VANOS variable
valve timing. The block is an aluminum design with cast-iron
sleeves instead of the aluminum/magnesium block found in
non-turbo BMW sixes these days. Yet, with high-pressure piezo
injectors and an intercooler, this slightly heavier engine pumps
out 300 hp, 300 lb-ft of torque and – in a first for a BMW inline
engine – exhales through a dual exhaust. It mates to either a ZF
manual or automatic in six-speed form. And while the automatic
works just fine – you can choose to down- or up-shift for
yourself via metal flappers on the steering wheel’s rear face –
the manual is the true sporting choice. And, as you come to
expect from BMW, the control weight and feel for the gearlever
and clutch are spot-on.
So is the ride and handling, though I should insert an
asterisk here as the roads driven were those between San Francisco and Bodega Bay, and not the rough roads those of
use who live in the Midwest live
with every day. Therefore, it may turn out that the composure I
noticed might not translate under these conditions, though
secondary impact harshness was commendably muted for a car that
runs run-flat tires with short sidewalls.
Inside, the car is neat, crisp, and handsome, though the belt
minder – an arm that extends to help you reach the seatbelt
without having to turn around and search for it – was a bit slow
to react, and didn’t leave one with the impression that it would
be fully functional years down the road. But it was what the
design team wanted since the more commonplace hook near the
headrest subtracted from the interior ambience of a vehicle that
starts – in 335i form – at $41,295. Come to think of it, maybe
the arrogance is earned.
+: Looks, build quality, control feel, handling, power
-: Lethargic and potentially flimsy belt minder, image