There are--count them--just two really nice things about the 1996 Buick Regal Gran Sport. The first is the 3800 Series II V6. The light throttle extracts a smooth, uninterrupted stream of power that is abetted through its course by the delightful four speed transmission (which rounds up the list of nice things). Take the engine and the tranny out of the description and you are left with another sham from the land of General Motors.

The Buick Regal was thrown together in an effort to draw import--read "Japanese"--buyers into Buick showrooms. Nothing wrong with the motive. However, GM's approach has drawn belly-laughs from the forces at Toyota and Honda. Buick's platforms and the engines are delivered from an era that most drivers the cars are aimed at would not, owing to their being in the cradle at the time, identify with. Don't let the GS's "Series II" classification cozen you. Pleasant though the all-iron beast is, it has seen six Presidents, including Kennedy. Opposites in this price range--the Acuras, Hondas, Toyotas and Nissans come equipped with amply cammed, four valves per cylinder, all-aluminum engines that are smoother, lighter, quieter, cleaner, and significantly more durable. Cars employing all-iron powertrains generally command a much lower resale value, as is evident from the notably higher prices of used Hondas and Toyotas.

Price is where the Regal fingers a real sore; its sticker has succeeded immensely in sucking up those unable to stomach the imports' tariffs. At 90 yen to the greenback, theoritically, Tercels should be battling in the Regal's price arena. Marketing wizards that the Japanese are, they have countered the surmounting Yen with products made in America, using American workers with the result that citizens of this fortunate land have to pay a couple of grand extra, rather than ten or twelve, for automobiles that put the best from Germany to shame. So enough already with the incessant whining about high prices of Japanese cars. Soothe the soul with the twisted logic that Accords, Camrys and Maximas are now "domestic", after all, that is what the legislators would like you to believe, and get one; more sensible than signing away the sweat and toil on antiquated heaps like the Regal that, owing to Americans' incongruous notions on patriotism, have enabled a few in Detroit to secure extremely big paychecks. GM's products have no international appeal, and cars like the Regal are fast becoming subjects of derision in learned circles.

Like the Lumina, the Regal suffers from a lack of focus. It attempts to satisfy a variety of customer preferences instead of picking a domain and sticking zealously to it. Both cars would have turned out better had they been designed with the express purpose of snaring the Camry buyer. That ambition was perhaps muffled in the bureaucratic chatter that moderates most engineering meetings at GM. Hence, the Regal has the overly anxious bearing of a poor man's Park Avenue. GM's pecuniary excursions have left an indelible mark on everything from the engine to the interior, allowing Honda and Toyota an easy slam dunk with their presentations, dispelling doubts that there is a difference between domestic and import sedans. The differences? Build quality, for one. Local manufacturers, GM in particular fall short severely, in this department. The Regal is a case in point. Any one who has owned or driven an Accord or a Camry will be startled by the apparent lack of common sense that went into the Buick's development. And by the lack of discernable character. Nothing about it--neither the exterior, nor the interior, says anything concrete.

It is strange really, that while GM splurges on its show cars, very little of that input makes its way onto showroom floors. The Regal's interior suggests the designers were absolutely plastered during the whole process. Ergonomics are puerile-- the cruise control/turn lever aims to stupefy and is admirably supported in its quest by the old-fashioned tiny chrome power seat controls. Analog guages are garnished with gauche orange needles and some inarticulate lettering. The swoopy curves of the recently "redesigned" dash look curiously like the Camry's and I dare say the resemblance is not a freak of nature. While mimicking a benchmark however, little details were omitted. The dash surface texture is still coarse, and the knobs and switches are composed of cheap- looking plastics that abound in the lesser GM vehicles. Steering mounted controls for the stereo and AC are a thoughtful touch but, and there was an air of inevitability about this, the dash mounted ones for the same leave a lot to be desired--three simple knobs, instead of the diminutive black tablets, would have sufficed. The standard ComforTemp system allows the passenger to set a different temperature, but I have my suspicions about the contraption's long-term reliability. Most of the panels, held together by screws, display uneven cleavage. Had the engineers examined a Civic, they would have noticed that snap-fit panels align better and that if screws have to be used, covering the same with plastic lids imaparts a more sophisticated ambiance. The center console does a nice little jig over bumps and the column mounted hazard switch actually popped out when engaged--something one doesn't expect in a $22K auto. The bedizen chrome door handles, modelled, in a spirited imitation session, on the Accord's, go about their business of unlatching doors in a disinterested manner. The walls of the door bins, created no doubt after a stolen glance at the Camry's, have a ridiculous declivity rendering them useless for most objects. The flimsy manual seatback adjusters have been filched from the Lumina (or is it the other way around?) Resist the urge to look nether for the hood release lever will make you swoon although the exceedingly thick carpeting does its best to shroud some rather agricultural engineering endeavors. So then, the question begs to be asked, is this how the interior of a sports sedan--for that is how the Regal is pitched as-- really supposed to be?

Exterior fit and finish is similarly gawky--the flat, angular body panels align improperly. Chrome strips around the green house threaten to come apart somewhere during the course of the fifth car wash. Lumps of dried paint can be found without much exploration. Styling has evolved over the last eight years, and each reform has tried, unsuccessfully, to pin modern-looking styling cues on what, essentially, is an archaic body shell. The overlapping wheel arcs and the gargantuan bodyside moldings should send a shudder through Giuguaro. Factor in the optional chrome finished alloy wheels and the deck mounted chrome rack and presto, you have one of the most confused-looking automobiles on the planet.

Under the hood, there is more to shock the soul. From behind the headlamp assemblies sprout green and yellow wires--the kind Keanu Reeves could be found staring at, aboard a speeding bus, moments before he snips one. Spiral insulation, normally expected in this price range, is not to be found.

The Gran Touring suspension has a bovine constitution, trailing the Camry in ride finesse and alacrity--the latter property, I discovered after an anxious moment on one of Cincinnati's sloping streets. A feline, no doubt feeling it necessary to squander one of the many lives it was endowed with, bolted from behind a parked automobile without due warning. Spiffy maneuvering on my part allowed me to prevail, and I continued to ride unscathed, although the remainder of the trip was marred by the ceaseless anxiety of having to keep an eye peeled for recalcitrant four-legged creatures. Dual anti-vibration sub-frames would have imparted a greater sense of control but, at the time of writing, none of the recent GM introductions have dual sub-frames. (The Camry has had them since '92.) Not even the new Cadillac Cimarr....er..Catera.

Steering feel is much better than is expected from Detroit although the puny, poorly positioned side-view mirrors make lane changing a harrowing ordeal. Braking is a department in which the Regal exhibits nothing short of homicidal ardor. Pedal feedback is almost nil, and I found myself prodding much harder than is required to brake with confidence. The extra weight doesn't help when it comes to pipping the momentum and 70-0 mph required 199 feet--thirty more than the Camry.

Despite being 6.0 inches longer and nearly 3.0 inches wider than the Toyota, the Buick has less front leg room, head room, and nearly 3.0 inches less hip room (front and rear). The rear seats do not fold so overall cargo space is much less than in the Camry. The trunk lift-over height is greater than the benchmark's by a mammoth nine inches. So much for designing with seniors citizens in mind.

Verdict: Decent power, price, and equipment cannot make up for Regal’s technical and ergonomic deficiencies.

Regal in Numbers:

Engine: 6
Transmission: 9
Acceleration: 9
Braking: 6
Visibility: 7
Handling: 7
Ride: 7
Steering: 7
Ergonomics: 5
Interior Accomodations: 5
Cargo/Utility: 5
Structural Integrity: 7
Styling: 4
Fit and Finish: 2
Safety: 8
Reliability: 6
Value for Money: 4

Copyright©1996, "Ride On", Mesmer Productions. All rights reserved.