It's a Modena miracle. Peel off the roof of the 4C, and you have a better Alfa Romeo.
Back in 2008, I flew to italy to drive the Alfa Romeo MiTo, a curious, front-drive subcompact that Alfa presented as a sibling to the expensive, beautiful, and rare Alfa 8C Competizione. Inviting American media to Milan was part of a ploy to convince us that Alfa Romeo, the troubled luxury arm of Fiat, not only had a future, but a future in America. A stretch, that, since the middling MiTo hatch offered little in driving dynamics, charm, or looks to suggest that Alfa Romeo had a chance against Audi or BMW. Or any other automotive luxury brand. A few months later, the economic meltdown assured that no one—save a few lucky 8C owners—would be parking a new Alfa in their American garage anytime soon. So last year, when Fiat Chrysler Automobiles introduced the 4C coupe, all sensuous curves and Italian lust, it was a tiny miracle wrought in carbon fiber, aluminum, and dreams.
This year brings us the 4C Spider, which is not only a worthy sibling to the hardtop 4C but also another chapter in Alfa Romeo's renaissance (which continues next year with the new Giulia sedan, targeting the BMW 3 Series.) The Spider is not so much sibling, actually, as identical twin to the coupe. It has the same carbon-fiber monocoque tub married to aluminum front and rear subframes. It undergoes a similarly labor-intensive, six-week production process in Modena, Italy. The same 1.7-liter turbo four mounted midship frenetically sends 237 hp through the same six-speed dual-clutch. And, of course, it has the same incredible looks, worthy of a six-figure exotic, with sweeps and swells in all the right places in the plastic body panels.
There are some differences between the two 4C models. For both structural strength and aesthetics, the Spider's windshield frame is carbon fiber. A redesigned aluminum roll bar provides mounting points for the new painted-plastic engine cover, which replaces the coupe's glass hatch. The roll bar is sheathed in what Alfa calls a "halo," either in standard black plastic or optional carbon fiber. And sturdier upper-body brackets and an engine compartment crossbeam have been installed. Even with these changes, Alfa says the Spider weighs only 22 pounds more than the coupe, which weighed 2455 pounds in our last instrumented test. A miracle, indeed.
The 4C Spider is not a roadster in the Miata sense of flipping back a lightweight fabric roof and exposing the entire cabin to the sky. It's more of a targa-top 4C, but that's enough to transform the car. The coupe's cabin is a severe place, all dark surfaces and boomy powertrain resonance, but the boom and gloom disappear once you open the roof. To do so, you step outside, loosen some pins, roll up the fabric roof, stuff it into its special duffel bag, and wedge it into the tiny trunk behind the engine, where it takes up most of the space. This is either a ridiculous pain or a charmingly old-fashioned exercise in top-off motoring, depending on your mood. A carbon-fiber roof panel will be offered later this year for $3500; when removed, it must stay behind in your garage. Again, joy trumps efficiency.
When it's Spider time on California's Highway 1 south of Monterey, efficiency is the last thing you care about, but you might want to talk to your passenger. The wind is well managed, so conversation is possible, at least until you dip into the throttle and the shrill turbo whoosh and exhaust rrrapp muffle voices. (Another late option: an Akrapovic dual-mode exhaust with center-mounted tips, sure to keep your passenger busy texting rather than talking.) The Spider cabin gets standard leather seats, a welcome upgrade, because leather and carbon fiber go together like Campari and soda. The switchgear is still as unintuitive and chintzy as in the coupe. A new Alpine head unit is an improvement over the coupe's Parrot stereo, even if it looks decidedly aftermarket. It has Bluetooth capability, and there are new padded slots between the seat bottoms and rocker panels to stash phones. Italians have their priorities. The slots will be added to the 2016 4C coupe.
So the Spider is essentially a 4C with the Ray-Bans and Coppertone option package, and it has virtually no differences in dynamic performance compared with the coupe, which is both good and bad. Good: This is a synapse-firing sports car in the classic and best sense. It requires sacrifices from its driver and passenger in utility and comfort, but it compensates with purity of purpose and a sensory experience that is the antithesis of most modern cars.
Bad: All of the coupe's deficiencies remain. The steering is still a serious weak point. At low speeds, it has all the accuracy of a John Deere lawn tractor, despite no power assistance. The 4C has tons of grip, but the lack of predictable feedback through the steering wheel prevents you from fully exploiting it. The turbo engine is peaky and unpredictable, the sweet spot in its boost curve often elusive. You really have to pay attention when you're hustling along two-lanes. Then again, you might say that's the allure of a real sports car.
After a morning spent trailing rental Sentras on Highway 1 from Monterey to Big Sur, I'm back at Mazda Raceway Laguna Seca for an afternoon of happy laps. This should be the 4C's natural habitat, where its light weight, low polar moment of inertia afforded by the mid-engine layout, big Brembo brakes, and sharp chassis all come into play. It's also where you might succumb to the inevitable comparisons to thePorsche Boxster and Cayman, similarly priced cars that would feel perfect here or on any racetrack. Because in the 4C Spider, it's difficult to come out of Laguna Seca's corners in the right gear at the right revs, even with Dynamic mode engaged. Frequently, the 4C's potential is tantalizingly just outside your grasp, which is not a feeling you get in the mid-engine Porsches. Yet the power delivery when you do get the 4C's revs and gears right is potent, and I'll not soon forget the full-throttle blast uphill toward the Corkscrew.
Buying a Cayman or Boxster is predictable, practical, rational. When you go Italian, you're going with your emotions. Either 4C sibling will satisfy your lust for a semiaffordable Italian exotic. But since the 4C is inherently and proudly impractical, why not have the top-off option? Especially if you believe in miracles.
Source: www.roadandtrack.com
