Pontiac? Is It Really You?

Author's Rating:

Pros: Go-kart thrills to match the Miata, plus grippier handling and a more-mature demeanor.

Cons: Too-tall gearing and a grumbly drivetrain detract from straight-line performance. Ergonomic irritations abound.

The Bottom Line: 
Comparing the Miata and Solstice pits delicate balance against reassuring confidence, and function against form. It's hard to say which is better--these cars are more evenly-matched than I anticipated.

Author's Review
My Experience

According to the esteemed annals of Dictionary.com, Solstice--aside from its astronomical significance--is defined as "a highest point or culmination." I'll vouch for that. Although Pontiac's new Solstice roadster isn't perfect, it's the clearest evidence yet of a major upswing at GM. GM has proven it can build seriously impressive machinery--for a price--with vehicles like the Chevy Corvette and Cadillac CTS-V. But with the affordable Solstice, GM has moved farther out of its comfort zone than ever before. Certainly, when my parents bought their Oldsmobile Cutlass Supreme in 1994, I never would have guessed that the same company would be selling pure, low-cost, rear-drive roadsters gunning for the Miata only a decade later.

But after a quick tip of the hat to the General's progress, we get to the tough part: their ambition won't matter much if the resulting car isn't competitive. So, to find out how the Solstice measures up to its well-established rival, I took a few examples for a spin on the handling courses of GM's Auto Show In Motion. I hope to fill in more details after taking a thorough test-drive somewhere down the road... but for now, here's what I know.


Performance

Lift open the Solstice's curvaceous hood--it's hinged at the front, like a Corvette's--and you'll find a 2.4-liter, 177-horse version of GM's familiar Ecotec four-cylinder. I've sampled this motor before in Chevrolet HHRs and Cobalts, but it's never looked so "right" in an engine bay--it's mounted longitudinally in the Solstice, and topped with a shapely plastic cover.

If only it felt as "right" as the engine in Mazda's MX-5. Twist the Solstice's ignition, and the Ecotec springs gruffly to life, sending coarse tingles through the pedals and floorboard at idle. The underhood noises aren't loud--if anything, they're a bit too muffled for my taste--but neither are they particularly pleasant. While the Mazda's engine is always buzzing excitedly, the Ecotec just mutters and grumbles quietly to itself.

This slow-breathing demeanor is further reinforced on the move, where the Ecotec feels more relaxed than the Mazda's 2.0-liter Four. But don't think that by "relaxed," I mean "slow." No, the difference has to do with each engine's respective power delivery. The MX-5 is peppy enough at low revs, but needs to be revved hard and shifted often to keep the rush coming. The Solstice, on the other hand, feels more linear and broad-shouldered, spreading its torque across a wider portion of the rev range. In other words, it's less particular about how you drive it--low revs, high revs, or anywhere in between, it answers your right foot with a smooth, steady flow of grunt.

A competitive advantage? Not necessarily. If you're used to a torquier engine, such as a family car's V6, you'll probably appreciate the Solstice's flexible, laid-back nature. But if you're, say, an autocrosser who enjoys learning a car's challenges, you'll likely find the Ecotec a bit uninvolving. Such enthusiasts will also be disappointed in the Ecotec's slowness to gain and drop revs--especially on the overrun, where the tach needle falls at a snail's pace.

Fuel economy, ever a more relevant concern, is pretty good for a car whose 0-60 times are likely to squeak under seven seconds. The EPA says to expect 20/28 MPG--the Miata is a shade thiftier, at 24/30--and both require Premium fuel.


Transmission/Clutch

This area presented a major hurdle for Pontiac. Manual transmissions have never been GM's strong suit, and the Miata's shifter has long been recognized as one of the best on the market. So, predictably, the one in the Solstice is perhaps the car's greatest weakness relative to the Mazda.

The problem is that there are only five gears in the Solstice's box--the MX-5 offers six, in most trim levels--and the gearing is very tall, leaving wide gaps between each gear. Why so tall? Maybe Pontiac wanted to shorten 0-60 times by eliminating the 2-3 upshift, or maybe they had the good of fuel economy in mind. Either way, here's the net: you can cruise in second gear at 35 MPH with no signs of stress, but you can't change gear purely for the fun of it--there's nothing fun about lugging the engine or banging the rev limiter.

This is a shame, because the stubby shifter that controls this gearbox is really quite good. It slots through a clearly-defined pattern, and does so with short, thunky throws. Still, the "hard-plastic" feel of its engagements--which VW/Audi owners will find comfortingly familiar--suffers in comparison to the Mazda's buttery-smooth stick.

Clutch feel is another weak point, but less so versus the newly (and overly) softened pedal in the MX-5. Like other Ecotec-powered GM cars I've driven, the Solstice's clutch offers stiff, grittty resistance as you push it in, but feels lifeless coming back out--almost as if it's sticking. Still, tactile dissatisfaction aside, smooth starts come easily--pedal travel is moderate, and take-up is only a little blurry.


Steering/Handling

If the Miata's toggle-switch shifter presented Pontiac with "a major hurdle," then what should I call the standard set by the Mazda's celebrated chassis dynamics? Mt. Kilamanjaro? Believe it or not, though, GM nailed its target. The Solstice and Miata may be incrementally different in handling character, but both are closer to being street-legal go-karts than any other new car I've driven--and to experience these sensations in a Pontiac is borderline surreal.

The first revelation: steering feel. Until setting foot in the Solstice, I had never driven a GM vehicle that answered its helm with world-class levels of fluidity, linearity, and communication. Now I have. The Solstice points itself into corners quickly and crisply, and the wheel is weighted with a pleasing, natural firmness. Precision is excellent, too, so apexes are clipped with a single flick of the wrists. I'd have to drive the two cars back-to-back to be sure, but the Solstice may even be a smidge better than the Miata in this regard.

Chassis balance is similarly hard to fault. The Solstice handles like it looks: planted and foursquare, clawing the pavement with big paws. About those paws... er, I mean, tires--they're very wide for the car's weight. In fact, at 245 centimeters across, they're just as wide as those fitted to Pontiac's beefy GTO. This gives the Solstice a lot of grip, and prevents it from playing the delicate toss-and-catch games encouraged by the MX-5. Instead, it begs to be lobbed into turns, breeding confidence that it's going to hang with you all the way.

Less interactive than a Miata? Maybe, but I wouldn't call that a weakness. I'd call it a personality--one that's slightly more settled, and no less satisfying. And there's more to it than contact patch. The Solstice's grippier-than-thou attitude is accompanied by a firm suspension, which is less inclined to jaunty roll angles than the Miata's, and the Pontiac tracks with greater certainty, too. Besides, you can still play with the Solstice's balance mid-corner--the nose pushes out and tucks in as directed by your throttle foot--it just doesn't offer the same degree of adjustability as the MX-5.

Brake feel is excellent, as well--certainly better than any GM car I've driven to date. The Solstice's middle pedal is firm and responsive underfoot, with a short travel and excellent modulation. I wouldn't be surprised if stopping distances were a bit longer than the Miata's, though--those big tires add a lot of rolling mass.


Ride

Ride comfort is probably the area in which the Solstice has the most decisive edge over its Mazda rival. This does not--I repeat, not--make the Solstice a comfy boulevardier, though. Its suspension is taut, more so than the MX-5's, and it clops and jerks stiffly over uneven surfaces. But impact harshness is notably more muted than in the Mazda, such that potholes and the like feel "further away."

The latter point probably has more to do with structural stiffness than anything else. When I reviewed the new MX-5, I was blown away by its newfound sense of solidity. But as it turns out, the Solstice's platform is even better-starched, exhibiting a sense of stillness and calm unmatched by any soft-top I've driven, including BMW's Z4. On my last run through the course, I really tried to induce cowl shake, and admittedly succeeded--hitting very sharp bumps while turning did the trick--but even then, the shudders were commendably tight and quick.


Interior

I'd like to say that the Solstice continued to erase my lingering GM skepticism in its interior appointments, but sadly, that was not the case. Although the Solstice's cabin isn't bad, the new Miata's is better in almost every way.

Almost. Since I'll be picking lots of nits in this section, let's start on a positive note: The Solstice's interior is, without a doubt, more atmospheric than the Miata's. Swing open the driver's door, and the Solstice drops you into a deep tub of a cockpit, with an instrument panel that wraps dramatically around your half of the cabin. The view forward is slit-narrow, too, thanks to a stubby windshield whose lower corners are filled with the bodywork's muscular haunches. Clearly, you're not driving an "ordinary" car.

But here's the bad news--if you're like many of the auto-show attendees I spoke with, you could very well find yourself wanting a little more ordinary-ness. "I sit too low in it," and "I can't see out of it" were the first two complaints I heard from nearly everyone who drove the Solstice. And although I didn't personally find outward visibility lacking, I didn't like the extreme height of the cowl and doorsills--I tried to hang my arm out the window once, but only got my elbow to do the Chicken Dance around my ears.

Seat comfort can be either a high point or a low point, depending on whether you specify leather or cloth seats. The former are firm and supportive, with pleasantly buckety contours. The latter, however, are as spongy and unpleasant as those in a Sunfire. In fact, let's not mince words: if you want to be happy with this car, don't buy it with cloth upholstery.

Materials quality is less variable elsewhere in the Solstice's cabin--the tactile ambiance is econocar-average, with lots of hollow-feeling hard plastic and buttons that wobble just a little too much. And despite its swoopy contours, I find the Solstice's instrument panel visually undistinguished, too--its panels are low-gloss and tight-fitting, but there's none of the jewel-like detailing you'll find in the MX-5. The Solstice's dash looks empty, almost cartoony in comparison.

Much of this is due to the scatter-shot placement of the secondary controls, and the fact that said controls are almost exclusively parts-bin stuff. Small, circular buttons sprout from the Solstice's IP seemingly at random--some from the Chevy Cobalt, others from the Hummer H3--and the top of the dash is dominated by an ugly rectangular "Pass Airbag On/Off" panel (with glowing display). By contrast, every bit of the Mazda's interior looks as though it was carefully designed for the MX-5, and the MX-5 alone.

To wrap up, though, here's another bit of good news about the Solstice's cabin: you'll fit in it. Legroom is generous, elbow room is adequate, the pedals are ideally-spaced, and the driving position is arms-out, legs-out perfect, as it should be in a sports car.


Practicality

Ask a Solstice product planner to comment on this subject, and you'd likely get one of those deer-in-the-headlights looks: "Uhhhh.... whaaat?" Sure, all roadsters are impractical cars by nature. But the Solstice is an impractical roadster. Its trunk is shallow and poorly shaped with the top up, and, well, full when the top's folded down. The trunklid is hinged at the back, too, so items must be loaded from the side, over the wide rear fenders. Three cupholders serve the cabin, but they all feel flimsy in the extreme. And while there are two useful glove boxes, there are no door map pockets.

Top operation is slightly more complicated than in the Miata, as well, thanks to a pair of flying buttresses whose trailing edges must be snapped down after raising the roof. But that's not a big deal, in my judgment--what they detract from ease of use, they more than make up for in style.


Reliability

Since the Solstice is brand-new, the leading consumer publication has had no time to evaluate its reliability. The same applies for the redesigned MX-5. So, although odds would seem to favor the traditionally-bulletproof Mazda, it's anyone's guess until data from real-world owners becomes available.


Overall

I hate to pull a Motor Trend when it comes to my final opinion, but I have to be honest--between the Solstice and the MX-5, I really can't decide which is the superior car. The Solstice's ergonomic goofs, tall gearing, and somewhat gravelly powertrain detract, but like the MX-5, it's essentially a machine free of fatal flaws. And since it seems to have an ever-so-slightly different mission than the MX-5, choosing between the two cars--as the aforementioned auto mag was so fond of saying--"really depends on what you're looking for."

The Solstice, for example, is the one I'd pick for a weekend blast down Highway 1 to Southern California. Its broader torque curve and smoother ride would make it a more relaxed mile-eater than the MX-5, and its hunkered-down handling would be preferable to the sensitive Mazda's in fast, sweeping curves. Plus, even though the Solstice's cabin isn't as carefully-detailed as the Miata's, the pinched view forward over those voluptuous fenders is immeasurably more evocative. That's the Solstice's advantage--pure sports-car romanticism mixed with solid, confidence-inspiring dynamics.

I'd pass up the Solstice for the MX-5, however, when it came time to drive to work and back. Wringing out its sweet-sounding engine and flicking through the gears from one stoplight to the next, the Mazda would put far more adrenaline into my daily commute--I could skip the cup of coffee I might need if I drove the Pontiac. And if I could squeeze in a back-road detour, well, the Mazda's tail-wagging antics would really wake me up. Plus, I'd have more room for my luggage, an airier view out, and a nicely-finished cabin to eye at red lights. That's the Mazda's advantage--it's more exciting and high-strung, yet asks fewer compromises as a daily driver.

For now, that's my spineless take on this roadster rivalry--know your priorities, and pick accordingly. That said, if you just have to know which if one of these cars is quantitatively "better"--taking into account all practical aspects such as fuel economy, cargo space, and interior ergonomics--it's the Mazda. Has to be, when you consider its edge in nearly every measure of user-friendliness, and the fact that you can actually buy one without stomaching dealer mark-up or joining a months-long waiting list. These cars are evenly-matched enough that price gouging on one should steer you towards the other--and for the time being, "the other" is the MX-5.

Still, for those prepared to wait for the Solstice--especially those who are doing so out of GM loyalty or a lingering domestic-car bias--rest assured that you'll find the Pontiac just as appealing overall as its iconic competitor.



Feel free to check out my review of the MX-5, too:
Mazda MX-5