Driven
Back to Library >BMW M3 Competition review
Yup, it’s become a very different sort of car over the years. Soon there’ll be a Touring variant for the first time and even a four-wheel drive model as well. In terms of size, this G80 version is 102mm wider and 11mm longer than the E39 M5 of 1998, and pretty much the same weight. If you cling to the image of relatively small coupes when you see the M3 alphanumeric, you’ll find the outgoing M2 is a far better M3 than this one could ever hope to be.
But let’s not allow ourselves to get stuck in the past. In certain markets there’ll be a model that sits beneath this M3 Competition, but it won’t come to the UK. That’s a pity because it’s the only one that’s offered with a manual gearbox. Just the automatic for us, then, and not even a dual-clutch gearbox. BMW UK will tell you so few buyers specified a manual transmission last time around that you could form a Covid support bubble with all of them. That’s fair enough, but BMW’s decision to swap the old DCT ‘box for a torque converter might yet be harder to forgive.
A £74,755 list price is a bit of a shocker too. Remarkably, the cabin is sufficiently well-appointed to make some sense of that enormous figure, thanks to its high-grade materials and switchgear. Spend another £6750 on the M Carbon Pack and, along with some carbon fibre splashes about the place, you get a pair of gorgeous sports seats trimmed, if you wish, in leather in some garish shade. Specified that way, there’d be no mistaking this new M3 for a 320d.
Meanwhile, the seating position is very good with seats that drop to the deck and a wheel that presents itself eagerly to you. On the basis of the cabin alone I suspect a good number of would-be buyers would gladly overlook the car’s, um, uncomfortable exterior styling. Trouble is, they’ll have to forgive a number of deficiencies elsewhere too.
There’s the auto ‘box, for one thing. It’s smoother in normal driving than a DCT would ever be, but it’s nothing like as responsive. Upshifts called for just as the engine hits its rev limiter are laboured, while downshifts have none of the snappy precision that you’d get from a dual-clutch unit. But that’s only part of the issue. Those more technically complex transmissions bring not only faster gearshifts, but also a certain character that’s so well suited to a hard-edged performance car. The way a downshift feels when you’re hard on the brakes, the shorter ratio banging in and dragging on the rear of the car to stabilise it. And then there’s the drama and excitement of an upshift that slams home all but instantaneously when you’re really hammering along.
Ideologically, an automatic gearbox and the BMW M3 are not well suited. Sadly, the reality is scarcely any more harmonious. The same isn’t necessarily true of the M3’s turbocharging, because although a forced induction engine can never be as soulful or as sonorous as a naturally aspirated one, the level of mid-range shove on tap is very welcome, never more so than in a heavy car.
This isn’t the same twin-turbo six that powered the previous M3. It feels muscular throughout and there’s enough fizz at the top end that it is worth chasing the redline in each gear, but it’s far from the most responsive turbo engine I’ve come across and it isn’t even remotely tuneful. Effective, then, but not the centrepiece that M3 engines once were.
All things considered, this is the least captivating powertrain BMW has ever stuck into an M3. Perhaps we’ve reached a point, with only a handful of years left to enjoy such things, that it’s become self-defeating to nitpick at a new internal combustion drivetrain. Maybe we should just be glad they’re still around in whatever shape or form they assume. The fact of the matter is, though, this isn’t the sort of engine and gearbox combination that we’ll pine for in the age of the electric motor.
But don’t go thinking the M3 has gone all soft and gooey. The very instant the wheels start turning you sense all the spring rate at each corner. This is a very well supported car, the kind that jinks and jerks around at low speeds, letting you know about every imperfection in the road surface beneath you. Honestly, I can see that tense low-speed ride becoming tiresome in daily use. It’s important to say, however, that there is enough malleability in the damping to cope with the demands of a poor road surface when you’re pressing on a bit. This M3 doesn’t smother the road surface the way some performance cars do, but nor is it completely flummoxed by an uneven stretch of asphalt.
There is good reason to find your inner peace with that uptight ride quality, because the advantages it confers in terms of handling precision and body control are significant. This thing is clamped to the ground. Despite being heavier than the last M3, this one controls the forces at work so much more convincingly, never allowing body and wheels to get out of phase with one another.
Meanwhile, the steering is pin sharp and super responsive, though never talkative. Like all recent M3s this one apparently refuses to understeer on the road, so you have real faith in the front end, which allows you to carry huge speed along a road. The key word here is confidence – the last M3 had a habit of nibbling away at your confidence with its wayward body control and will-it-won’t-it traction issues, but this latest one floods you with the stuff from the first mile onwards.
I have my reservations about this car’s day-to-day comfort, but in terms of agility, response and precision, it scales heights no 1800kg (with a driver) four-door has yet managed. For all that’s changed over 35 years, the M3 still knows how to excite its driver when shown an inviting road. But given its sheer size and weight, plus the limitations of its powertrain, I don’t see this M3 being remembered in years to come as a paragon of the breed.