Lancia should make a new Stratos | GRR
It was with unalloyed joy that the news reached me of the rebirth of Lancia. Yes, really. Or perhaps that should be ‘revival’ because to be reborn first you must be dead. Technically speaking at least. And though at times it must have seemed so, Lancia is not dead, or not quite. It exists in its native Italy, life support provided by small but steady flow of Fiat Panda-based Ypsilon budget hatchbacks, a very large proportion of which end up on various hire car fleets the length and breadth of the country.
There are three new Lancias planned to go with its smart new badge, the first fairly inevitably a replacement for the Ypsilon due in 2024, the last a flagship model due in 2028. It doesn’t have a name yet, but which one from Lancia’s past would you use? By rights it should probably be Flaminia though I find it hard to see that happening. I always thought Gamma was an underrated name.
I’ve never driven a Gamma, though I’d like to very much: I always liked the look and was intrigued by its chunky 2.5-litre flat four motor. But I have driven various Betas and liked them all, particularly the Volumex HPE estate which didn’t feel that quick but had lots of torque and an attractive voice. But I still don’t know what to make of the Beta Monte Carlo. I loved the way it looked and the idea of a mid-engined Lancia was so exotic, but next to a Lotus Esprit which also featured a mid-mounted four cylinder, twin came engine, albeit of 2.2 rather than 2-litres displacement, the Lancia felt a bit gutless and while it handled well, the Lotus was sublime.
Before that there were Fulvias and they were lovely. And actually I don’t subscribe to the ‘you have to have a 1.6HF’ school of thought. One of nicest Fulvias I ever drove was a 1.3S coupe, with that characterful ultra-narrow angle (just 12 degrees) V4 motor fizzing away, beautiful steering and brilliantly balanced handling for a front wheel drive car. I drove a 1.6HF quite recently and couldn’t see what all the fuss was about, but it had a strange ride height, uncomfortable suspension and I suspect it had been poorly set up by someone who didn’t know what they were doing.
But even at its best, was the Fulvia ever as good as a 105-series Alfa, be it a Giulia saloon, Sprint GT or Junior? It’s a point that can be debated, but ultimately part of the joy of any low grip sporting car from the ‘60s or ‘70s is that you can drift it around at will, something rear drive Alfas do at will, but not the front-drive Fulvias.
To me, there have been three genuinely great Lancias, at least among those I’ve driven, each genuinely revolutionary in its own way. The first was a Lambda from the late 1920s, towards the end of the car’s production. With its narrow angle V4 motor, independent front suspension and unitary construction it wasn’t just years ahead of its time, but arguably decades. It made a 3-litre Bentley from the same era feel like an old truck. Then there was the Aurelia, a car that also innovated from stem to stern, indeed from the first production V6 engine that sat in its nose, to the transaxle gearbox that resided between its rear wheels providing optimal weight distribution. The late series car I drove with the larger (2.5-litre) V6 and De Dion rear suspension felt like as big a leap forward in its time as had the Lambda. It was such a smooth, effortless and sophisticated car, I didn’t want to get out. I drove it from Peterborough to Goodwood and back and was still yearning for more.
But the best Lancia I ever drove was the Stratos. There’s an entire book to be written about the staggering odds that lay against the Stratos even making it into production, the fact that both Enzo Ferrari – who supplied the engines – and Fiat – which owned both companies were dead against it being just a couple of the hurdles it had to vault. But vault it did and a rallying legend was born.
The Stratos road car is one of the most gloriously particular things I’ve come across. Smaller, lighter and therefore faster than the Dino 246GT whose engine it shares, it feels quite unlike anything else I’ve driven. Unlike a Dino, which loves to be rowed along at medium effort levels, the Stratos only wants to go as fast as humanly possible. At less than maximum attack, it fidgets as if bored with so unimaginative a driving style. Flat out however, with that wide track, tiny wheelbase and wraparound screen allowing almost as good a view out the side of the car as the front, the car is an unrelenting hoot.
How I hope that even some of the character of these great old Lancias is reborn with the new one. But with electric motors and lithium battery packs, I fear it’s going to be a struggle.
Andrew Frankel has been racing cars for over 20 years and testing them for nearer to 30. He is senior contributing writer to both Autocar and MotorSport magazines, sits on the Car of the Year jury and was chief car tester for the Sunday Times for 15 years. He cites driving and writing as the only disciplines for which he has any talent and therefore considers himself vocationally employed. When he is not working he lives quietly in the Wye Valley with his family, a small and unimportant accumulation of cheap old cars and some sheep.