Mini 1499 GT car review: Bit of a joke but I am almost convinced
The very same prank that British Leyland played on Mini fans back in 1970 has been visited upon them again by the present custodian of the Mini legend, BMW
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Your support makes all the difference.The curiously named Mini 1499 GT is a sort of automotive joke. I can explain. The 1499 GT is a self-conscious echo of a version of the Mini that was produced for about a decade after 1970. It was the old, classic Mini but fitted with the (then) new “Clubman” front end, a squared-off affair that was supposed to make the Mini look more modern which, to be fair, it did. (And nothing to do with today’s Clubman model). The 1499 GT is a special edition Mini and they’re only making, yes, that’s right, 1,499 of them. (The old Mini 1275 GT’s sales quota was limited to how many they could build between strikes.)
Now the problem with the old 1275 GT – which referred to its 1,275cc engine – was that the critics at that time regarded it as both gutless and dyspeptic, and not a worthy successor to the famous Mini Cooper it sort-of replaced as the “sporty” Mini. The 1275 GT had stripey decals down the side, just as the modern homage does, but only had a single carburettor and wasn’t particularly thrilling to drive (albeit it had some rallying success and enjoyed typically brilliant road holding). In a few short years it would be comprehensively eclipsed by the VW Golf GTi, and a new generation of small hatchbacks – though for some only a Mini would do. Lucky that, for what was left of the British motor industry.
So the 1275 GT didn’t quite enjoy the go to go with the looks, and the 1499 GT suffers a little – but only a little – from the same fate. It has a full-on John Cooper Works body kit, complete with (unnecessary) rear spoiler, and cute little spot lamps at the front, and enjoys the same sort of enjoyable, safe handling as its predecessor. It is fitted with big rally seats with leather and faux leather trim, though I found they lacked a bit of lumbar support on a journey. I was not entirely distracted from the mild discomfort by the Mini’s open invitation to test it to its limits.
Some think that the 1499 GT lacks outright performance compared to some of its siblings in the Mini range, relying as it does on one of the smaller, less potent power units, but I’m not sure it matters that much. The key to a successful fun front-wheel drive small car is the same as it has always been – to equip it with only sufficient power as to make the thing steer properly and not stall, and to stop when required.
All of this the 1499 GT does, and, while there are many more thrilling variations on the Mini theme, I usually find them a bit too much of a struggle to control; absolute power corrupts, and all that. Plus, I’m not convinced they are worth splashing twice as much cash on as you would on this special edition.
So the joke, such as it is, is that the very same prank that British Leyland played on Mini fans back in 1970 has been visited upon them again by the present custodian of the Mini legend, BMW. Then again, maybe it’s not such a bad joke this time around because the current generation Mini, soon to be facelifted, is an extremely capable small car, a front-drive BMW by any other name, and filled with much of the charm of the original. There’s aI iae, as a former owner of a classic Mini, gradually come round to the interloper, because, fat as it is next to an old Mini, it represents admirable economy of scale and compactness in today’s ever more bloated automotive world.
I did, though, miss some of the features you ought to be able to see on a new car costing about £16,000. In particular, there’s no sat nav featured on that huge retro-styled central dial, and I’ve forgotten how to read a map or use an A to Z. Strange how such skills can atrophy so rapidly.
The “new” Mini is almost 20 years old now, and a far more common sight on the roads than the 1959-2000 editions. It’s established itself as something special, you might say unique, despite the challenge of the equally cute and rather cheaper Fiat 500. It is, as its predecessor was, a car that doesn’t compare directly with much of the competition, effectively in a market sector of its own, defined by its own success. Within that space there are many varieties, with the family extending to convertibles, four-door versions, compact SUVs and an estate, with diesel, plug-in hybrid and petrol options, all of which possess that special Mini quality. Rightly or wrongly, it is perceived as a premium badge from a premium maker (even though there are reports that older versions not have lived up to that reputation) and it commands a price premium (and equipment deficit) compared to more conventional rivals. Sitting in it, looking through the familiar “letter box” windscreen I recall from the old Mini, surrounded by reminders of great Mini design touches from the past I felt almost at home. Joking apart, I’m almost convinced.
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