FAST FLEET
growing affection for it, but while driving (and living with) a car in isolation can allow you to gain a fuller appreciation for it, sometimes you just want to find out how it stacks up against a key rival, and alongside the £54,340 Toyota, the £56,655 Audi stands out as the other sports coupe whose approach is less focused than that of an Alpine A110 or Porsche Cayman T.
So as I’ve just discovered, the Supra is a slippery sucker, and one with a shortage of progression and clarity where it counts. The overwhelming glut of torque – the peak of 369lb ft arrives at just 1600rpm – hits the rear differential in a solid lump, then the short wheelbase, inconsistently locking differential and cloudy feedback of the softly calibrated transmission combine to make straddling the limit an uncomfortable experience. Be more of a hooligan and it will do the sideways stuff nicely, but when trying genuinely to pull some neat laps it feels messy and uncoordinated.
The impression is similar on the road, making it a hard car to have faith in when occupying the upper reaches of its dynamic ability, especially as speeds rise. Eveleigh notes that this impression worsened significantly with the arrival of winter, with cold or, worse, damp asphalt significantly reducing the ability of the Michelin Pilot Super Sports to maintain purchase or relinquish their hold in a progressive fashion. But, ultimately, natural and intuitive at-the-limit handling is not the Supra’s forte.
The Audi TT RS is a markedly different experience, but then these two small coupes couldn’t be more diverse under the skin, the TT’S transverse engine and front-biased all-wheeldrive system being a real counter to the Supra’s neoclassical front-engine, rear-drive layout. Despite being a cylinder down, the Audi’s 2.5-litre turbocharged in-line five punches much harder too, with a 59bhp advantage and two extra driven wheels to put that power onto the road.
You might be surprised to hear that the
TT RS’S tail is also quite mobile out on track, but only under braking, and it’s something that is instantly neutralised when you get back onto the throttle. Unlike the AMG A45 S and incoming Golf R, the TT RS doesn’t have a trick torque-vectoring rear differential; instead it leads with its nose regardless of the conditions. This sets it up perfectly for the car review cliché of
proclaiming the TT to be a safe, secure and slightly understeery experience on a circuit, but it describes its behaviour particularly aptly.
On the road, front-end grip is substantial enough that you rarely see the nose pushing wide, but where you’re constantly prodding the Supra to see what it’ll do next, the TT can reveal its entire dynamic spectrum within a handful of miles. The Audi is simply a more binary experience, which is not to say it’s not capable – if anything its dynamics are arguably more complete than the Supra’s – but it follows a very different, more one-dimensional path.
What happens on the confines of a track or favourite back road doesn’t represent the entire repertoire of this pair though, and the Audi gains favour when considering these cars as daily drivers. The TT RS is one of few relatively affordable new sports cars that’s totally and utterly dominated by its powertrain. Despite the recent adoption of some particulate filters in the exhaust and a more emissions-friendly calibration to its seven-speed dual-clutch gearbox, the Audi’s 394bhp in-line five remains a brilliantly charismatic unit. It needs a moment to get its turbo spinning, but once it’s up and running the TT RS feels incredibly rapid, while the soundtrack is a superbly judged combination of induction noise and subtle speaker augmentation.
Admittedly, the transmission has lost its edge – the ignition cut that used to coincide with upshifts has been removed, no doubt for the sake of emissions, so too the propensity to ignite a few drops of unburnt petrol in the exhaust manifold on downshifts. But overall the TT RS’S powertrain still delivers in a way that can’t help but channel the romantic notion of flying down Finnish dirt roads in a screaming E2, even though you’re actually driving around Bedfordshire in a grey TT with a tacky rear wing.
The Supra is not without nostalgia of its own, of course. Aside from its predecessor’s starring role in a certain movie series, painted orange with stickers up the side and capable of endless upshifts
‘The TT is a markedly different experience; this pair couldn’t be more diverse’
for dramatic effect, there are also memories of an engine family that’s arguably even more hallowed than the Audi’s warbling five-pot. Toyota’s iconic JZ, particularly in earlier 1J form, isn’t just a bulletproof base for 1000bhp tuners, but even in factory form has an incredible ability to rev into the stratosphere and sound like a miniature exotic while doing so.
On paper, Toyota’s deal with BMW to utilise its in-line six-cylinder engine sounded like an opportunity to tap into this heritage, but the reality is somewhat different. The B58 twin-turbocharged 3-litre feels over-digitised, held back in some respects and poorly augmented in others, and its torque curve is too broad, perhaps to benefit other recipients such as BMW’S X5 and X7. It just doesn’t feel suited to the Supra or its expressive demeanour.
The reality is neither of these sports coupes really hits the mark as a driver’s car, but as more rounded everyday propositions they do offer their own, quite distinct experiences. The Audi is faster, more capable, better built (with a fabulous interior) and has that uncanny ability to rest on the laurels of its superb engine. But it’s the Supra that has more to offer. Its snappy handling is a challenge, yet is unerringly entertaining in a self-sabotaging sort of way, and it’s all wrapped up in a distinctive, mini-supercar-like package that draws more positive attention than just about anything we’ve run on the Fast Fleet in recent memory. We like the Supra, fake vents and all.
Jordan Katsianis (@Jordankatsianis)
‘As rounded, everyday propositions they offer their own, quite distinct experiences’