Raffi sang it best: everything grows. Higher beltlines, swelling curb weight, ballooning footprints; from the once-tiny Honda Civic to the Mini Cooper, every single car on the road these days just keeps getting bigger and bigger — with the exception of one.
After a quarter-century, the Mazda Miata (or MX-5, if you prefer) enters its fourth generation with one big surprise: it’s still small. The recipe remains the same — modest power, lightweight, rear-drive, open-topped — and really, that’s most of the shock. How, when everybody from BMW to Porsche seems to be making more and more complex vehicles, does Mazda manage to keep it simple?
This new MX-5 is actually shorter than the original, and just a few kilos heavier. How’ve they done that? Remember how tiny the original 1990 version was? You could have delivered them to the dealership in a Tic-Tac box.
There’s no turbo. There’s no clever torque-vectoring differential. The cupholders are flat-out terrible. But it’s as wonderful as ever.
Design:
Some of the MX-5’s diminutive size is thanks to its compact LED headlights. Mazda’s best-selling roadster still has a “face,” but it’s much less cutesy than before, almost snake-like.
Or maybe make that cat-like as from some angles the MX-5 looks an awful lot like the Jaguar F-Type. You could do worse for a car to emulate, especially since the original Miata did such a good job at translating British-style open topped motoring into Japanese dependability.
That the mid-level GS is just over $35K — about half the F-Type’s price — doesn’t hurt either.
The nose is extremely low, giving the driver a better sense of the road, even as the arches over the wheels make it easy to tell where the corners of the car are. 16” alloys are standard on the basic GX model, with 17” seven-spoke rims on the GS and GT models.
Environment:
One of the more interesting details is the way the sheetmetal seems to wrap around the doors, with body colour continuing into the cockpit of the car. It’s a neat tweak to the recipe, and sets off the small cabin with a splash of colour.
Besides that small design tweak, the rest of the MX-5’s interior is function first. Weight has been saved almost everywhere, with the result that the detachable cupholders are right where your elbow goes (you can move one down to the passenger-side of the transmission tunnel if you’re flying solo).
Further minimalism can be found with the seats, which exchange foam padding for a supportive web. The seats don’t have height adjustability, but are instead mounted on an inclined track – shorter drivers will gain height the closer they sit to the steering wheel.
It’s an elegant solution, and while the MX-5 has occasional ergonomic oddities (volume knob between the seats, infotainment screen just stuck to the dash), it’s overall a nicely-executed effort. The small steering wheel with its compact airbag feels light and lively, and the shifter is perfectly positioned. Never mind the cupholders, this thing’s for driving.
Performance:
When Mazda revealed a 2.0L four-cylinder powerplant for their new car, many pundits raised their eyebrows. What, no forced induction? And it makes less power than the outgoing model?
Now making essentially the same 155hp at 6000rpm and 148lb-ft of torque at 4600rpm as the regular Mazda3, the MX-5’s new engine requires premium fuel and is down 10hp versus the previous model. Not the kind of thing to get a gearhead’s pulse racing.
However, there’s so much more going on here, it’s hard to know where to start. Every inch of this little car has had the impurities hammered out of it; from chassis to suspension to the first electronic power assisted steering that actually has some feedback. It’s the result of an endless amount of tiny engineering tweaks, ranging from an obsession over the way the manual shifter slots into gear to hanging microscopic weights on the rear differential to get the right harmonics out of the engine sound.
It’s not about the power, it’s not about the seats, it’s not about the stereo, its not about the absolute cornering grip. The MX-5 isn’t dominated by one element — instead, it’s the blend and balance of everything all at once.
There’s no sport button, you just go. Flop the top down with a single arm motion, press it once to latch, then let out the clutch and scamper off the line with that little four-pot fizzing away merrily. If you can drive this thing with a straight face, you’re doing it wrong.
Turn in is sharp, and body roll allows a sense of motion and speed. Speaking of which, the MX-5 is actually really quite quick. Like the original car, it’s a momentum machine, losing little speed between the corners. String up a couple of apexes right, and it’s an absolute thrill.
And then there’s the whole open-topped fall motoring aspect of it. In the MX-5 you smell the coffee roaster as you pass, hear the dry leaves crackle under your wheels, see the clouds whipping by overhead. Sure, it’s got a trunk and a seat for a friend, but the MX-5 is still all about the elemental experience of driving.
Features:
While the dedication to light weight must be praised, it’d be nice to see an optional power folding hardtop back for folks who’d like to street-park their sprightly Mazda roadster without worrying about security (maybe on the loaded GT models only). In terms of safety features, everything from blind-spot monitoring to lane-departure is here, and the navigation system is quick and easy to use.
As mentioned, premium is required with official figures rating 6.9L/100kms on the highway for manual-equipped cars, and 8.8L/100kms in the city. Like most current Mazdas, flogging the little MX-5 doesn’t seem to hurt real-world economy much.
Green Light:
Great new look; still provides an elemental drive; very well balanced; fun!
Stop Sign:
No more optional hard-top; some wonky ergonomics; no Mazdaspeed version any time soon.
The Checkered Flag:
The car stays small, the fun stays big.
