Wow. They DO NOT make them like this anymore. If the Lotus Carlton was released today, Luton and/or Hethel would probably be inundated with complaints, or even lawsuits, within a few days of it going on sale. For in the 21st century, even supercars like the Audi R8, Lamborghini Gallardo and Porsche 911 are designed with ‘user-friendliness’ in mind. Motoring journalists crow about their everyday usability, how anyone can drive them fast with ease, and how they are equally suited to both the local shopping run and hugging the apex at your local trackday.
As much as it pains me to say it, I blame Honda. When the supremely engineered NSX arrived in 1990, it was ranged against an array of unreliable, bone-jarring, widow-making rivals like the Lamborghini Diablo and Ferrari 348. Honda moved the game on, and from then on supercars had to be reliable and comfortable as well as fast, loud and desirable. But the thinking behind this car hails from before that era. If I was to use one word to describe the Carlton, it would be ‘unapologetic.’ But if I was to use two words, they would be ‘unapologetically insane.’
It looks, as you probably know, like a mildly beefed-up Vauxhall Carlton (or Opel Omega for those outside the UK). Inside, there’s a Lotus badge on the steering wheel and the rev counter, but otherwise it’s fairly standard late-80s GM executive saloon fare: massive chunky controls, big leather armchairs and precious little sense of grace or sophistication.
The first clue as to the Carlton’s aggressive nature comes when you start it up and try to move away, as the clutch is hugely heavy. Straight away, you’re on alert, paying a lot more attention to proceedings than you would be in a more prosaic car. Then you try to engage second gear. The robust ZF six-speed transmission (also used in the Chevrolet Corvette ZR-1) could probably handle the power output of a supertanker, but its operation is best described as ‘agricultural’. Again, the Carlton challenges you, forcing you to adapt to it and not the other way around.
My first few miles in the car are best described as awkward, as I tiptoed my way around a residential area close to Vauxhall’s Luton HQ on the way back to the M1. Gentle brushes on the accelerator between speed bumps were acknowledged with a pronounced surge as the mighty 3.6-litre straight six awoke. Finally, after negotiating a roundabout or two and descending a slip road, the almost-empty motorway beckoned. Second gear, grip the wheel, go…
Mother. Of. Jesus. It feels like an Intercity express train has just slammed into the slab-like rear end and is now relentlessly pushing the Carlton towards the horizon. It takes all of my concentration to clutch in and snatch third, and then the hammer-blow of torque comes again. The motorway speed limit is in danger of becoming a distant memory at this point, so I back off and catch my breath. Once my heartbeat has slowed down, out of curiosity, I shift up to fourth and bury my foot again. The acceleration is not as gut-punching this time around, but it’s still more aggressive than most performance cars in second gear. THAT is what 568Nm of torque feels like. It makes the Carlton a positively evil car, one that transforms even the most mild-mannered driver into a steely-eyed executioner. “Go on,” it whispers to you, “go for the overtake. We’ll still make the turn-off. It’s okay, we have the power…” Gulp.
Once the eye-popping acceleration is dispensed with, however, the Carlton is just as refined on the motorway as its non-Lotus-fettled brethern would have been in their day. Just 1,500rpm in sixth gear will see you hovering on the edge of points-gathering speeds, making it a supreme long-distance cruiser. I won’t pretend to comment on the Carlton’s on-the-limit handling prowess, however – firstly because I didn’t drive it on the appropriate roads, and secondly because I was no position to risk exceeding the limits of this immaculate 26,000-mile example. But the truth is, the Carlton’s explosive power is better exploited on the more open roads that comprised my 100-or-so mile journey.
In that environment, the Lotus Carlton is simply the most exciting and addictive car I have ever driven. But it also left me downbeat, as there is no car on sale today with as much as a tenth of the character of this car. The further away we get from cars like the Carlton, the quicker we’ll forget just why it’s worth getting excited about cars in the first place.
