Imagine pouring tens of thousands of hours into design, development and testing and then bestowing upon your pinnacle of engineering a soulless alphanumeric moniker. True, some of these have come to represent more than a collection of numbers and letters – F40, M3, 911 – but none sticks in the mind like a name, which is why manufacturers sometimes spend as long developing those as they do the car.
The Disco Volante is another example of how every relatively mundane word or phrase sounds better in Italian. In this case ‘Disco Volante’ translates to ‘Flying Saucer’ and was the name given to a series of experimental, low drag racing cars developed by Touring.
Using Alfa Romeo 1900 mechanicals in a spaceframe chassis the aim was to reduce aerodynamic drag as much as possible. The body shapes of the five cars built were lenticular (lens shaped) in cross-section when viewed from both the front and the side. Remove the wheels and they really would look capable of hovering above Area 51.
Long before AMG became a Mercedes subsidiary, even prior to its recognition by the Stuttgart giant as an official tuner, it was establishing its successful formula of putting enormous V8 engines in cars barely big enough to contain them.
Today AMG has at its disposal the engineering might of Mercedes and does wondrous things with chassis tuning, turbocharging and even hybrid powertrains for the forthcoming AMG One hypercar. Thirty years ago however the formula was much simpler; put as much engine as possible into the W124 saloon and coupe, lower it a bit and give it really fat rubber so it can outrun supercars. You might call it using a sledgehammer to crack a nut; hence the name.
Bentley has never been regarded as a ‘racing brand’ in the same way that Ferrari or Porsche are but that was nevertheless how the company proved its engineering and design skills. But not in the world of F1 where teams simply spend a leisurely Sunday afternoon racing; Bentley was all about Le Mans and proving its might round-the-clock.
Massively over-engineered, over-engined and overboosted, Ettore Bugatti sniffily dismissed the Bentley 3.0-litre series of cars as “the fastest lorries in the world”. They won at Le Sarthe in 1924, 1927, 1928, 1929 and 1930, earning Bentley the right to name its fastest saloon the Mulsanne after the formerly 3.7-mile long straight at the circuit.
American automotive engineering, design and culture largely developed from a romanticism about the open road. Desert highways and huge skies for miles upon hundreds of miles as one unhurriedly crossed a continent created a breed of large, powerful and comfortable land cruisers.
That romantic notion also gave rise to Buick’s most enduring model which appeared in 1936 and the sales brochure for which stated, "It literally named itself the first time a test model levelled out on the open highway." It is the fifth generation, introduced in 1949 that we really love with its ‘bombsight’ bonnet mascot, ventiports in the front wings, toothy grille and Buick’s first V8, the Nailhead.
Naked bikes are a category of their own but naked cars? The closest we can think of is an Ariel Atom. Well Daihatsu used the name for a Kei car produced for five years from 1999. Like all Kei cars it was diminutive but well-engineered with a 658cc turbocharged engine and either front or four-wheel-drive. The name derives from the fact that Daihatsu styled the car to have exposed rivets and hinges on its panels to give the impression of simplicity and ruggedness.
Performance SUVs and pick-up trucks are no longer an oddity but a given on most suburban streets these days but GMC was well ahead of the curve in the early ‘90s with the Syclone. This was a turbocharged, four-wheel-drive small pick-up developed for GMC by Production Automotive Services which had developed the Pontiac Turbo Trans-Am.
Turbocharging was still a rarity but the Syclone produced 280PS (206kW) from its 4.3-litre V6 and was genuinely capable of outrunning contemporary supercars with a 0-62mph time of 4.3 seconds. And the name? It references the mighty spinning power of the turbocharger; the Syclone’s SUV sister was called the Typhoon for the same reason.
Using aircraft names for road cars is a well-established practice; the Ford Mustang is named after the P51 fighter rather than the wild horse and Triumph sold the Spitfire two-seater for nearly 20 years. Jensen however named its 1950 sports car after a class of plane: the Interceptor.
Fast, agile and fearsome, who wouldn’t want a car named thus. Made of aluminium and steel on a wooden frame with a straight-six, the Interceptor was fast for its day. The famous Briggs Cunningham fitted a Chrysler Firepower Hemi V8 to his, making it second only to the mighty Mercedes 300SL in its day.
The Mazda Bongo van has been a workhorse across South East Asia, Australia and the US since the mid 1960s. It was named, for reasons that presumably made sense in that decade, after an African antelope.
It is the campervan version that we love however (two of which used to be a regular sight at the Goodwood Motor Circuit). This added seats that folded down into a double bed, factory fitted kitchen and often a pop-up roof for more accommodation. To show that it was now for people not pallets, ‘Friendee’ was added to the name. Perfect. Incidentally, the large van version was called the Bongo Brawny.
Plymouth paid Warner Bros $50,000 for the rights to use the Road Runner name and cartoon likeness for its back-to-basics muscle car launched in 1968. It even spent a reported $10,000 developing a ‘meep meep’ horn for the car. Sharing a platform with the Belvedere and Satellite, the Road Runner was also available with the legendary 426 Hemi.
This then was the basis for one of the most famous NASCAR racers of all time. The low profile nose with pop-up headlights, smoothed-off body and truly gigantic rear wing were all innovations used to create a car specifically to lure Richard Petty away from Ford and back into a Mopar. What do you call an even faster Road Runner? Superbird of course, and you give it a giant decal of the cartoon bird holding a racing helmet on the wing.
We have to admit, using the name Dictator for a large, imposing saloon is a bold move. Studebaker did so in order to imply that its car ‘dictated the standards’ to which other cars aspired. First appearing in 1927, the Dictator was, surprisingly, the bottom of that particular range of Studebakers, being topped by the Commander and President models.
While the name may have sounded fine to American ears, marketing it further afield proved problematic and it was renamed the Studebaker Director. For readily apparent reasons, the name was abruptly dropped in 1937.
The pick-up truck is seen as an all-American icon, emblematic of the work hard, play hard nation. Japanese manufacturers, keen to break into the lucrative small truck market decided to do things differently from the established heavy, body-on-frame, V8-powered beasts.
So when Subaru introduced its ‘Bi-drive Recreational All-terrain Transporter’ it used a 1.6-litre engine, stashed the spare tyre under the bonnet, could be had with a Targa roof and had two rearward facing jump seats mounted in the load bed. Regardless of Subaru’s claim of a clever acronym, what better name for an upstart car thumbing its nose at an old-fashioned way of doing things than ‘Brat’?
Plymouth image courtesy of Bonhams.
List
Studebaker
Subaru
Mercedes
Bentley
Mulsanne
Hammer
Buick
Daihatsu
GMC
Mazda
Plymouth
Superbird