AURORA | Welcome to the heyday of man. I’m not talking about the species, I’m talking about the gender.
Y chromosomes of the world sit up and take notice: We are at the summit. Today is pinnacle of our existence. It won’t get better than this. Dudes, carpe testosterone.
I say all of this because the Scion FR-S couldn’t be any more masculine if its exhaust was a pitch-perfect reproduction of James Brown’s 1966 futuristic anthem, “It’s a Man’s, Man’s, Man’s World.”
Sure, I imagine some women will buy this car. I imagine some men bought the boxed set of “Sex and the City” too. I’m fascinated by both phenomena.
That’s because the FR-S is the bare-knuckled form of what cars were before female sensibility. The two-door coupe has a motor in the front, power in the back and people in the middle. Boil all that down to gravy: Pushing is better than pulling, safety be darned because physics are for sissies.
Of course, plenty of the vehicles competing with the FR-S are front wheel drive, but those cars are flavored lemonade — too sweet for dudes.
I’m guessing that’s why this car is a sequence of letters instead of a diluted faux-word. FR-S sounds like someone you don’t want your daughter hanging around, by comparison, Genesis sounds like a wuss.
Although, talking about the FR-S is impossible without talking about another, similar initialism by Subaru, the BRZ. The Scion FR-S and Subaru BRZ aren’t only similar; they’re exactly the same. Jointly developed between both Japanese automakers several years ago, the FR-S or BRZ really started life as the Toyota FT-86.
Powertrain by Subaru, body by Toyota, the FT-86 was a perpetual concept car until last year when the final production version made the auto show rounds and presales for the car began. To hear Subaru enthusiasts tell the story, Toyota needed someone else to build a sports car. To hear Toyota fans tell the story, Subaru needed the money.
Actually, the truth is probably neither. Scion (the car is marketed everywhere else in the world as the Toyota GT-86, but as a Scion FR-S in the states) is keen to say that a team of engineers from both manufacturers built the car. The FR-S or BRZ doesn’t belong to either manufacturer, but rather the team that built it.
If the Scion FR-S doesn’t already sound like it’s having an identity crisis, consider this: engineers have hidden homage to the AE86 everywhere around the car. Don’t know why the number 86 is important? Back in the 1980s the Toyota Corolla Levin or Sprinter Trueno catapulted Toyota on to the tuner scene. The AE86, code name for the generation and configuration of the Sprinter Trueno, was a blank slate for gearheads to tweak, tune and track. Almost exactly like the FR-S, but more on that later.
The GT-86, FT-86, FR-S or BRZ — whatever you want to call it — also exists because of two other Toyota models, the Sport 800 and 2000GT, of which the latter the FR-S borrows heavily for styling.
That explain things for you? Because a car’s heritage and $1 will still only buy you a cup of coffee. I’ll admit that the FR-S’s lineage and pedigree are deeply interesting, but aside from cool marketing materials and a couple badges, very little translates behind the wheel.
Luckily, the FR-S doesn’t drive anything like those old cars — it actually weighs more than two Sport 800s — because it’s packed with stuff that men need. Big gauges, shifters, seats and some metal round out the great gear you get for 24,200 of your hard-earned dollars to start.
Actually, the FR-S is much more interesting than that. The engine from the FR-S is a Subaru-built inline four-cylinder engine that cranks 200 horsepower and 160 ft.-lbs. of torque. Mated to a six-speed manual transmission and a limited-slip differential before hitting the tires, the FR-S makes all the right noises already.
(Related: If you’re asking if the FR-S comes with an automatic transmission, I have mixed feelings toward you already. Buying a sports car with an automatic transmission reeks of femininity but in this instance, the automatic option is so good, I wouldn’t mind. It’ll cost you $1,100 if you want it, but I reserve the right to groan when I see it.)
Looking at the timer on my phone, I’ll tell you that the 0-60 mph time is around 6 seconds — Motor Trend clocked it at 6.3 seconds for the FR-S, 6.5ish for the BRZ attributable to the suspension differences — which is brisk but not face-melting for a car this small.
The power isn’t overwhelming — or enough, depending on how you drive — because the 200 horsepower mark isn’t reached well up until 7,500 rpm, near the top of the band. The payoff is there, you just need to rev the Trueno out of it. The 160 ft.-lbs. of torque is serviceable up until the top, especially around 5,500 rpm, but if you’re guessing that this car could benefit greatly from a turbo, you’d be guessing correctly. (Officially both Toyota and Subaru say there are no plans to turbocharge the engine, but if you buy that I have a bridge that fits perfectly into your budget.)
Inside, the FR-S is accommodating for two adults and two legless children. Officially the spec sheet reads a 2+2 layout, but climbing into the back is best left to small children and Cirque du Soliel employees.
Driving the FR-S is more comfortable than other sports cars. The suspension is forgiving and safe on the road, and responsive on the track. We had a chance to tool around Las Vegas a while before taking the FR-S out to Spring Mountain Raceway, and the FR-S is civilized in ordinary conditions.
Around the track, the FR-S is a different story. The chassis and low center of gravity allow the Scion FR-S to show off its prowess on the track commiserate with the driver’s ability. Bite the FR-S and it’ll bite back. If there’s a letdown in taking the car to its limits, it’s the stock summer rubbers fitted to the corners. Toyota actually shares the FR-S tires with the sportier versions of the Prius, an oxymoron by itself.
The Scion FR-S is being billed as an enthusiast’s blank slate for tuning and customization, much in the way the Mazda Miata once was. But with a hard top and plenty of fiddling available for even the average Joe, it’s clear the FR-S has a long life ahead of it.
Unlike the Miata, the FR-S is custom made for the less fair, hairy knuckled among us. With aggressive lines and an engine that just won’t quit, the FR-S plays hard and works harder.
Fellas, if you’re looking for something to turn a wrench on, get on the good foot, do the bad thing.
Aaron Cole is a syndicated auto columnist and managing editor of the Aurora Sentinel. Reach him at acole@aurorasentinel.