Old Mog, new tricks
TFOR As charming as ever, now less likely to spit you into a hedge AGAINST Over-excited steering, not cheap, engine sounds dull
he new Morgan Plus Four is the Roberts DAB radio or the pastelcoloured, chrome-handled Smeg fridge of the car sphere: olde worlde aesthetic on the outside, up to date technology underneath. And no, ‘up to date’ isn’t a typo. This is the second of many Morgans, following its big bro the Plus Six, to be based on a new bonded aluminium ‘CX’ platform.
Fitted with a new turbocharged BMW engine, double wishbone suspension and a more commodious interior with such wizardry as automatic headlights, central locking and
Bluetooth, this is nothing short of a revolution for the 110-year-old company tucked away in the Malvern hills. Just as well… Morgan expects around two-thirds of the 1,000 or so cars it sells per year to be Plus Fours.
Anyone not OK with this overhaul, may I invite you to drive a pre-CX steel ladder chassis Morgan in earnest. While fantastic fun, it’s also a bucking muddle of twist, shudder and axle tramp. By comparison, this is a byword for sophistication – the way it rides bumps, hangs together in the corners and has a solidity to it, despite weighing a whisker over a tonne, is most un-Morgan. Fortunately, the bodywork is still supported by an ash frame and its styling remains Biggles-friendly.
The interior – with its digital speedo, proper amounts of leg and elbow room and only mildly fiddly manual roof and removable windows – is largely shared with the Plus Six, as are the building blocks of its chassis. Differences are shorter double wishbone suspension and skinnier tyres making it 78mm narrower overall, and while the Six gets the same 335bhp 3.0-litre BMW straight-six as the Toyota Supra, the Four makes do with BMW’s single-turbo 255bhp four. Not quite the 0–62mph in 4.2 seconds snap of the Six, then, but 0–62mph in 4.8 seconds isn’t exactly shabby. That’s for the eight-speed auto version, but unlike the Six, you can save £2,000, sacrifice four tenths, and go for a six-speed manual instead.
For the record, we’d go for the manual every time. The auto works fine, it just feels like an interloper, from the BMW gear selector that jars with the rest of the cabin, to the plasticky paddles behind the wheel. Far better to chuck around the stubby, short-throw lever, match revs to biting points and revel in properly operating a car that looks like it should have a manual crank handle in its nose.
Admittedly, two litres and four cylinders isn’t much to get excited about in a £62,995 sports car, but with no electronic nets besides ABS, and barely a tonne to push along, it’s a potent force. It’s also a loudmouth, booming on throttle, hissing and muffled pops when you lift off. Nothing particularly melodic, but there’s more performance than you can realistically use on a B-road. In the hills around the factory, the Six would be more of a handful, but no faster. When it’s time to behave you won’t miss the auto or bigger engine either, thanks to 258lb ft of torque.
Negatives? The steering is overeager, the speakers are tinny and it’s not cheap. But throw back the roof, toss the windows and hang your elbow out over the thoughtfully padded door and all is forgiven. No, it still doesn’t have the precision of a Porsche, nor would you expect it to, but in a two-seater roadster every journey should be a special event. In the Plus Four, despite being more sanitised than what went before, it is. Jack Rix