Emerging Classic
Innovative and revolutionary, the Smart Car took the microcar concept into the mainstream in 1998. Some 23 years on it still looks fresh, but is also a classic in the making.
Turing heads with the tiny Smart City-Coupé and City Cabrio.
My colleague and I arrived at our rest stop in Hambach between visits to German BMW tuners, checked into our hotel and took a wander in search of supper. It was a beautiful place, all cobbled streets, timber-framed buildings and an inn where large people drank large beers and did a lot of laughing. There were Smart cars everywhere, both parked and on the move. A guy nipped by in the roofless, doorless Crossblade version, which made a curious whizzing sound as it went. Suddenly things began to feel pretty weird. The combination of tiny cars and picturesque village reminded me strongly of 1960s TV drama, The Prisoner.
Hambach is a border town. Over the last 800 years it has shifted between Germany and France, and it is now part of the Moselle département. Culturally it is more German than French, but despite appearances it isn’t the headquarters of an arcane cult of people carried around by miniature vehicles. Since 1994 Hambach has been home to Smartville, the factory complex dedicated to the manufacture of Smart automobiles.
The man behind it all was Nicolas Hayek, a man of vision. It was his radical thinking that had been responsible for the creation of the Swatch watch empire, whose modern approach to company structure and efficient manufacturing eventually brought about the complete overhaul of the Swiss watch industry.
Hayek’s interests strayed beyond time pieces, though: he wanted to build a car. Rather like his spiritual successor Elon Musk of Tesla, he brought a singular vision to an industry which at the time (1982) was really rather set in its ways. Hayek believed that the world needed an all-new city car, and set about ripping up the rule book as he planned it. Tiny cars have long been associated with inventive design, as the ‘bubble’ cars of the 1950s, the Mini and Japan’s Kei- class vehicles proved. Hayek’s concept literally rearranged the elements of a car, creating in the process one of the most distinctive automobiles of all time.
The Smart company itself was the result of volcanic tussling at boardroom level. Hayek wanted to develop the business in association with an existing manufacturer, which would spread the financial burden of creating an automotive brand and distribution network. The chosen partner was VW, until Ferdinand Piëch became CEO in the early 1990s and axed the project. Hayek took his
Swatchmobile concept to a string of manufacturers, finally reaching an agreement with Daimler Benz in 1994. After more managerial wrangling, the brand name was agreed upon: Smart is an acronym, standing for Swatch Mercedes Art.
The Smart City- Coupé and City Cabrio – or W450 in Mercedes-speak – made its debut at 1998’s Paris Motor Show. Predictably, it was a sensation. Rarely is a car truly revolutionary, but the Smart car was. Its minute dimensions, achieved by parking the driver and passenger in a safety cell above the engine and drivetrain, were both a talking and a selling point. It fulfilled the main brief for a city car very well, being stylish, efficient and very easy to park. The chic boulevards of places like Paris and Rome were soon littered with Smarts, driven nose-in towards the pavement, something you can do when your car is only 8.2 feet long.
Hayek’s original concept included a hybrid power unit, which at the time was far-out thinking. The eventual Smart City- Coupé – which became the ForTwo as the model line up expanded – ended up with (in his eyes) a disappointingly-conventional petrol engine. However, at the time this was an interesting unit, being a turbocharged, three- cylinder mill of only 599cc displacement. It produced just 44bhp, but this proved quite sufficient for a 730kg town car. The output was sent to the rear wheels through a six-speed, automated manual gearbox, operated by a lever or steering wheel paddles. Even the suspension was notable – very few cars use a De Dion tube rear setup, but this spacesaving arrangement facilitated the Smart’s remarkable packaging.
Someone at Smart must have been a fan of sci-fi, because the very strong main safety cell was dubbed the Tridion. It is the core of the car, onto which plastic panels are mounted. The Tridion is often picked out in a different colour to the rest of the body. The Smart aesthetic has always paid attention to its history in that Smart cars somehow look rather Swatch-like. The interior is equally distinctive, a playful environment of bright colours and controls mounted on pods.
British buyers had to wait a couple of years, as the initial car was offered in left-hand drive only. But once it became available here, it quickly established itself and Smart has done rather well in the UK. It still looks unique, largely thanks to a very gentle evolution. The Smart is now in its third generation, but the current car is very much a relation of the original. We are discussing the first generation here, which had a generous life span between 1998 and 2007. A light facelift occurred in 2002, at which point the petrol engine grew to 698cc and a 799cc turbo-diesel became available. Power output rose to 49bhp, and the model was renamed the ForTwo.
Inevitably, a higher-performance model was produced. This was a tie-in with Mercedes’ tuning brand Brabus. The 698cc engine was persuaded to produce 73bhp and 81lb.ft of torque. Highly entertaining, it had wider wheels and slightly more butch frontal styling. My photographer friend from Hambach has recently purchased a Brabus and is utterly in thrall to it.
However, the most outlandish version of Smart car was the Crossblade. It packed the Brabus engine, but was most notable for what it lacked – roof, windscreen and doors. In place of the latter were hinged bars, rather like those on a roller coaster car. Drivers were advised to wear a helmet and visor when driving it. Inevitably, the Crossblade’s niche appeal made it a low-volume model. Most examples spent their lives parked on the rear deck of large yachts, to be craned on-shore in Monaco, Cannes or Mustique.
You didn’t buy a Smart for its abundant practicality, you bought a Smart because you wanted to transport a maximum of two people and their minimalist luggage around a largely urban environment.
Nowadays, if you’re a reader of this fine publication, you buy a first-generation Smart because it’s a massive laugh to own and because you can spot a very interesting car with a fascinating back story that is on the cusp of classic status when you see one. As a result, good examples are rising in value. It is not only an entertaining vehicle in both coupé and cabrio form, but it also works well as a toy for occasional use, if only because it takes up very little space on your drive. The Brabus is especially fun, and the Crossblade is already a valuable machine. But treating yourself to any lowmileage, well-loved example of this unique automobile will certainly prove, well, you know, a smart thing to do.