Keeping pace
Likable car, but about that sibling rivalry
The Oxford Dictionary defines the word “mini” as “denoting a miniature version of something.”
They probably weren’t referring to something automotive.
Since the first Mini was launched in 1959, the once diminutive little car has grown exponentially as successive models were introduced — topping out with the Countryman. At 4.10 metres in length, “Midi” might be a more appropriate badge for the Countryman.
Who knows, perhaps one day we’ll see a “Maxi” — an enormous Cooper for the SUV segment.
Scoff all you want, but maximizing its potential has worked for Mini — to some degree.
The Countryman is the secondbest selling Mini in Canada, behind the Cooper. But the Coupe, Roadster and Paceman have never really hit the mark, and will likely be discontinued after this model year.
I enjoyed driving the Paceman — I just didn’t see the point. While “inbetween” models work well in some cases by creating a compromise between desirability and practicality, they also risk being redundant.
Personally, if I wanted a Mini, I’d buy a Cooper. If the issue of practicality reared its ugly head and I still had my heart set on a Mini, having driven the 2015 Mini Cooper S Countryman All4, the 5 Door would probably be the one for me.
But if I was looking for a two-door that was slightly larger than a Mini, $5,000 more would get me into a BMW 2 Series coupe. Better handling, with almost twice the horsepower, the 2 Series boasts a heck of a lot more cachet. My little hot tamale Paceman JCW All4 tester rang in at $46,690 (the most expensive model in Mini’s lineup) — almost the price of an M 235i XDrive coupe. I know which one I’d choose.
Mini owners, however, aren’t won over merely by performance — although the automaker does boast an impressive legacy dating back to the Monte Carlo Rally-winning 1960s.
While the Paceman appears to be a two-door Countryman coupe, its platform is slightly longer. From the A-pillar forward, the sheet metal is identical, but the Paceman rides 25 mm lower. This is mainly due to its sport suspension system, which according to Mini engineering head, Dr. Oliver Friedman, reflected the Paceman’s sportier dynamic, and was therefore made standard across the trim lineup. Another 10 mm was shaved off the standard Paceman for the spicier John Cooper Works variants such as my test vehicle.
Because the designers have done such a good job carrying over the Mini Cooper’s iconic look, the Paceman retains the same cute and friendly image despite its much larger size. In JCW guise, my “Absolute Black” tester wears a jaunty red rally stripe and grill bar, LED running lights and 18-inch alloy rims.
Minis have taken their fair share of criticism over interior quality, but in my opinion, the Paceman’s cabin suitably reflects its character. It’s more carefully rendered than a previously driven Countryman, whose squeaks, rattles and sub-par materials were teeth-grittingly irritating in a vehicle that costs more than $40,000.
The JCW-badged Paceman has shiny drilled pedals, badged doorsills, and red door panels that match the contrasting stitching. Like every other Mini in the lineup, the Paceman JCW features the oversized central gauge flanked by circular air vents. From the first time I saw it, I thought “Mickey Mouse” and it’s an image I just can’t erase.
The charcoal grey interior features leather upholstery, a wrapped steering wheel and decent materials on most of the touch surfaces.
True, the cupholders and shifter are contained in hard plastics, but overall the cabin is well put-together and exudes playful sportiness.
Like the Countryman, the Paceman seats four, but with two separated buckets instead of the Countryman’s bench seat.
Rear passengers, be advised: better have your yoga memberships paid up. Accessing the rear seats is an exercise in contortionism best left to the young and overly flexible.
Under its blunt little nose, the Paceman JCW has the same transversely mounted 1.6L turbocharged engine as the JCW Countryman.
It puts out 215 horsepower and 206 pound-feet of torque to all four wheels, in this case through a sixspeed gearbox, although an automatic is also available.
Instead of a mechanical limitedslip differential, the Paceman All4’s system has an electronically locking function that redirects torque to compensate for wheelspin.
On the road, the Paceman JCW does feel heavier than a Cooper S, but it’s lively, handles well, and is a hoot to drive. It doesn’t corner as well as its more moderately proportioned siblings, but it exudes all the rollicking puppy-dog sense of playfulness that Minis are known for.
I’m a big fan of Mini’s gearboxes — the shifter “snicks” satisfyingly into place, and the clutch take-up makes footwork smooth and easy. The abundant torque, available at a low 2,100 rpm, makes the Paceman JCW seem quicker than it is, and it moves off the line really well when asked to.
The suspension is on the stiff side, which some will like (I do) and others won’t. It might be tall and somewhat portly for its nameplate, but the Paceman shows admirably little body roll in corners.
Depress the ‘Sport’ button and the Paceman goes full-on Robin Williams — all frenetic energy and rapid-fire delivery. Try not to laugh (or blush) as the exhaust rips off rude bursts of raspberries, and the steering weight increases to almost ludicrous levels. It’s a blast to throw around curvy roads and on-ramps, yet it’s an easy car in which to loaf along comfortably — although it does tend to drone on the highway.
The Paceman JCW ALL4 is a very likable car whose biggest problem is sibling rivalry.
It’s hard to justify the premium price over the rest of the Mini lineup — especially when its price comes so close to a far more potent BMW.