Capri at 50
As Ford‘s style icon reaches its half century, we gather all the key models from 1.3L to 2.8i to assess its impact. PLUS – racing legend Jochen Mass on the RS Capris, and battling BMW in the European Touring Car Championship
Recent times have seen political correctness, corporate coffee shops and ‘fake news’ flow east across the Atlantic. Yet in days gone by we’ve had more to thank our US cousins for. Ford executive Lee Iacocca’s ‘personal coupé’ Mustang had taken America by storm, offering stylish, affordable performance motoring that the buyer could customise to their heart’s delight. Cue the Capri – the American dream, made European, initiated from a design sketch by Dearborn-based Gil Spear, evolved in Dunton, UK. Taking the same basic formula – stylish body, parts-bin underpinnings, and price consciousness – in 1969 Ford’s marketing geniuses unleashed it on a groovy British public longing to break free of stiff-upper-lip motoring. Today, the six long snouts and corresponding number of tight squat bottoms – each instantly familiar, and yet distinctly of the Seventies – sitting on our test track are a reminder that, in marketing terminology, the firm’s coupé content remained evergreen for 18 years. Time to see exactly why more than 1.9 million consumers bought into Ford’s fabulous Capri way. ‘What would sir or madam, like?’ For the average Ford customer back in 1969, the question would have been akin to bamboozlement. ‘A Capri, please,’ they’d have no doubt thought the correct answer. ‘Ah, but what engine? The 1298cc 52bhp or 64bhp four-cylinder, 1599cc 64bhp or 82bhp four-cylinder or 93bhp 1996ccc V4?’ The next choice, ‘With or without GT?’
Transmission selected – either four-speed manual or, on the 1.6-litre and beyond, maybe three-speed automatic – it continued with dress-up packages. ‘X, L, R, XL or XLR?’ With all options accompanied by myriad flashy brochures, buyers would’ve been rubbing their palms with glee. Post-war ration-induced privations had finally been well and truly thrown off, and that great American re-invention of the Fifties and Sixties had arrived – choice.
Chris Taylor’s pre-facelift Capri 2000GT XL would have sat firmly top of the range when new. Under its bonnet is the V4 unit – as already featured in the Ford Corsair, Zephyr and Transit – incorporated in a floorplan evolved from a Cortina MKII. In fact all the mechanicals and running gear were tried and tested units – including Macpherson strut front suspension, a live rear axle and front disc brakes. The front and rear track were widened, and spring rates and dampers considerably stiffened up.
Resplendent in Blue Mink metallic, the 2000GT has an appealing purity. The fastback shape with that squat rear lends a grizzled promise of sporting prowess, while the chrome bumpers, bullet wing mirrors and thin rear lights – from the Escort MKI – offset fussier details like the fake air scoops by the rear wheelarches, vinyl roof and thick ‘hockey stick’ swage line. With the £15.01 L Pack option ticked by its first owner there are bumper overriders, metal side mouldings, and a locking fuel cap – the Rostyle wheels here from the Custom Plan R replace the standard steels.
‘The fastback shape with that squat rear lends a grizzled promise of sporting prowess’
This extra visual goodness continues inside, where the Custom Plan X adds reclining front seats, a shaped rear seat and a dipping rear-view mirror among other things. You sit higher than expected, but there’s a period simplicity to the cabin.
For all its hairy-chested visual promise, the V4 unit delivers its oomph with a breathy pleasantness. It pulls well from low revs, sounds nice and sporty and there’s ample torque, which this freshly rebuilt unit delivers relatively smoothly, but with just 104lb ft it scampers rather than charges from 0-60mph, taking a smidge over 10 seconds.
Brace yourself for the first corner and the expected wallow never arrives, at least not to the extent period road testers would have experienced. Owner Chris fitted Spax rear dampers and gas struts at the front during the rebuild to tighten the handling. That allows me to relax and enjoy the surprisingly high level of feedback offered by the rack-and-pinion steering following the Escort that was launched the year before.
As a Capri taster this MKI 2000GT certainly whets the appetite, and the visuals are pure Sixties Carnaby Street and all that jazz. If the Mustang was the automobile for the age in the ’States, then Europe now had its equivalent and with an insatiable public appetite for sporting kicks – at a rock-bottom price of £1087.53, which was £129.47 lower than an MGB GT. It was the beginning of a Capri sales frenzy. However, as a range-topper it didn’t quite cut the English mustard. Ford knew that, the public knew that and it would take the arrival of the V6 variants to deliver the go to match the Capri’s undoubted show.
The hero car finally arrived in the shape of the 3000GT in late 1969, but not before several tuning houses had themselves shoehorned 3.0-litre units into a Capri bodyshell. That thunder stealing had come as a result of Ford not committing to a V6 variant until too late in the product launch schedule – with hindsight one thing the company’s head henchos did get wrong. The 2994cc Essex V6 – a reworked version of the Zodiac’s powerplant – significantly raised power and torque outputs, and was allied to a tougher gearbox that could cope with the extra lashings of grunt. Having usurped the V4 unit, it allowed the 2000GT to fall straight into the midrange of the model line-up that in reality it should always have occupied. Our car is a post-facelift 1973 Ford Capri 3000GXL, resplendent in Sebring Red. And what a cracker it is. The ‘X’ ‘L’ and ‘R’ badges are a thing of the past, replaced by an optional sports custom pack for GT models, while here the GXL range-topping moniker denotes that it has all the goodies. The rear lamp clusters aren’t as discreet as the earlier car’s, but the by-now de-rigueur bonnet hump (as per the German models, and on all models from 1972), twin-tailpipes and those quad headlights lend it a whiff of the Cologne-built homologation special RS2600’S wild aesthetic (see page 62). Toss in matt black sills, Minilite-aping 5.5J Sports Road wheels and 3000 V6 front wing badges, and our previous car looks a touch sweet by comparison – think Olivia Newton John’s transformation from pure Sandy Olsson to be-leather trousered temptress in Grease.
Inside it’s ramped up on masculinity, with a deeper instrument binnacle stocked with large black-faced instruments wearing orange needles. The steering wheel is less meaty, but the gear lever is chunky and the lower seating position a distinct improvement.
Crank up the V6 and it’s a different proposition. There’s a charismatic offbeat wuffle when stationary, but get on the move and that quickly rises in tone to become a six-cylinder blare. Its later engine was mechanically re-jigged to 138bhp (up 10bhp on the 3000GT and later 3000E equivalent) but there’s still relatively little need to rev the proverbials off it, because it pulls like a husky good ’un from low down, peaking just south of 5000rpm.
It feels convincingly faster than the earlier MKI and it is, being a full 2.3 seconds quicker in a sprint from 0-60mph. The rod-change four-speed gearbox isn’t quite as sweet shifting – come back, Sandy – but the V6’s surge of constant acceleration means there’s no need to rush between the better-spaced ratios.
The brakes give initial cause for concern with an alarming lack of bite but think of them as anti-citroën in the necessary required pressure. Thankfully a heavy boot overcomes this, revealing sharp enough levels of stopping power.
It’s also decidedly less choppy over poorer surfaces than the V4 thanks to softer springing; but barrel into a corner and it too tends to understeer and with the extra weight in its long schnozz it’s more pronounced. However, just like the earlier car it can be easily blotted out with a touch of throttle.
‘There’s little need to rev the proverbials off it, because it pulls like a husky good ’un’
The V4 excelled as a GT, though its engine, while reliable, didn’t respond as well to tuning as the Kent four-cylinders. But the V6 Essex turned big brother into a true and potent mile-muncher. It was definitely the one to have.
From the off, Ford UK and Ford Germany had built its own variants, complete with distinct engine families known as Kent, Essex and Cologne. The range now included seven models and, for the final year of production, the British-built cars basked in the glory of their own ETCC homologation hero, the RS3100. And yet the model’s single biggest draw was still its price point. In January 1969 the boggo 1300, with just a paltry 52bhp on tap, cost £890.39; even the range topper 2000GT was only £1087.53. At the 1974 close of MKI play, the 3000GXL came in at a fiercely competitive £1824, still a performance bargain by anyone’s thinking.
The public agreed, gorging on all model variants and by the arrival of the Capri MKII, Ford had shifted a mightily impressive 1,209,100 units in all regions – including the USA where it was sold simply as ‘Capri’, with no Ford badging. Most were cooking to mid-range models, but the sales template had been set.