BAVARIA’S BMW was not the first automaker to stuff a pyrotechnic engine into an otherwise mainstream car just to revel in the fireworks. For that spectacle we mainly thank Detroit, where a swinging-’60s John DeLorean helped kick off the muscle-car craze by packing carburetors and cubic inches into the Pontiac Tempest, birthing the GTO.Multimedia
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In the decades that followed, though, it was BMW — specifically its performance-obsessed M division, recently turned 40 — that established a dynasty of factory-built sport sedans that could hurtle, handle and stop as well as many sports cars.
Now an expanding list of companies — including Mercedes-Benz, Cadillac, Audi, even Jaguar and Volvo — is tag-teaming BMW with their own oiled-up challengers. No longer is the supremacy of a new BMW M car a given; a wealth of well-bred competitors lets shoppers run their compare-and-contrast drills before they reflexively hand over huge sums to BMW.
With the new, mechanically related M5 sedan, M6 coupe and convertible, BMW is making the case that enthusiast’s dollars should continue flowing waist-deep into its vaults. This autobahn threesome, especially the low and flowing M6 coupe, makes a dazzling street-corner come-on. These M cars are stars in the mold of the “Six Million Dollar Man.”
Or six figures at least: all are radically altered and upgraded from their mortal donor models, even in places you might not expect. And while the bionic Steve Austin sprinted at 60 m.p.h. in that ’70s sci-fi show, I’ll bet he couldn’t get there in 3.7 seconds, as magazine tests have recorded for the M’s.
Such ruthless urge, in cars as stout as German butchers (these Ms range from about 4,250 to 4,500 pounds), is supplied by a 4.4-liter V-8 of NASA-level intricacy. With its pair of Honeywell turbochargers, the novel reverse-layout TwinPower engine — the exhaust pulses that spin the turbos come from inside the V of the cylinder banks, while air enters from the outer sides — dials up a lusty 560 horsepower and 500 pound-feet of torque, sending the V-10 of the last M5 shrieking to the dustbin.
Yet as with some recent BMWs, these cars have familiar issues, starting with their gasp-inducing window stickers: $123,345 for my option-rich M6 coupe test car (base price was $108,295, including the $1,300 gas guzzler tax); $127,095 for an M6 convertible (starting at $115,295); and $103,195 for the M5 ($91,695 base). Technological headaches include a 7-speed dual-clutch transmission that stumbles like a wino in low-speed city maneuvers (though the M5 is available with a 6-speed manual).
And regrettably for the brand that virtually patented the man-machine connection, there’s a sense that technical proficiency has upstaged old-time BMW fun. As they devour the road, taming every difficult passage, these M’s are tuxedo-clad prodigies in a hushed concert hall. The performance amazes, but you find yourself craving the raw, rude fire of the Beastie Boys.
Given that the M6 convertible drives much like the hardtop — a little heavier, a little draftier — I’ll focus here on the M6 coupe and M5 sedan. (That said, the soft-top M6 is one of the tightest convertibles I’ve ever experienced and one of the quietest in top-down drives).
With their rippling bodies, predatory air inlets and sported-up interiors, the cars of this M brigade visibly outrank the non-M models. Of the three machines, I took an instant shine to the M6 coupe for its looks, performance and gran turismo bearing.
At these prices, the M5 seems to be outgrowing its 28-year mission as the do-it-all sport sedan. If you must drop $100,000 to go fast, is a midsize 4-door really the goal? Buy a $60,000 528i and a sports car for weekends.
The M6 drops all the pretense, combining decadence and brutality in a way the sedan can’t match. It’s a propulsive German warhead, engineered to shatter your gated subdivision, though tastefully. And it looks best in black.
