First Drive Review
What's this?
Pert and sparky Chrysler Corporation, renowned creator of automotive fashions such as the happy little PT Cruiser, the "cab forward" sedan, and of course mom's minivan, jumps into bed with patrician Daimler-Benz awhile back and when the moaning finally stops, gives birth to a station wagon?
Oh, dear.
This Dodge Magnum being rolled out for the new-year show circuit isn't some diversionary bonbon offered to keep conversations going while dealers offstage continue their scheming to put a sport-ute in every driveway. No, this hulking loaf roof in solemn, milling-machine gray is a "precursor," says Trevor Creed, who is in a position to know. He's the company's senior V-P of design, and he says, "Remember the Pacifica we showed a year ago? It's going into production now. This will follow in the first quarter of 2004."
Roughly 89 percent of what you see here you'll see again in the real thing, he promises.
So get used to it.
Meantime, remember that vehicles we've come to regard as mainstreamers sprang from unpromising beginnings. Who would have imagined the family minivan, as common today as George Foreman burger grills, back when hippies were running away from adulthood in VW Microbuses? Who foresaw Eddie Bauer-model SUVs back when a few woodsmen were rattling around in International Harvester Scouts and Ford Broncos?
Creed is looking ahead. "What comes after the SUV?" he asks.
Good question.
Here's the answer. Automakers, in their usual trial-and-error fashion, will toss out variations based on everyday hardware, most of which will be greeted by yawns. But occasionally the market will grab something and run with it. Mustangs, Miatas, and Monte Carlos all started that way.
Exactly what, then, is DaimlerChrysler tossing out for us in the Dodge Magnum? For sure it's not a station wagon, never mind the first impression.
The strongest hint is the roofline, the way it sags in back. No three-row seating here. Think fastback, long and tapered and streamlined. Now slow it down some by lifting the tail. Keep slowing. How slow can you go?
What if you lifted the tail so high it didn't look like a hatchback anymore, but still worked like one?
Everybody likes the idea of a hatchback, a sporty runabout with cavernous cargo space. Only one little problem: Most Americans would rather be caught shopping at MacFrugal's than driving one.
But think about it. Is the hatchback a look, or is it an idea? If it's an idea, a passenger compartment with pack-horse convenience, then it can look like, well, let your imagination rev. How about something rolling on oversize rims with the flavor of a lead-sled James Dean Merc?
Interesting.
"Don't say 'station wagon,'" instructs Creed. "It's a sports tourer."
Call it what you want, the concept has as much moss on it as does the Microbus. It's the five-door. You package passengers in the adult-size front and rear seats and stow their gear in the wayback. Saab has been doing it for years. GM did it with the Chevy Citation and Pontiac Phoenix in 1979.
Mostly, car shoppers held their noses, too. But that was then, and those cars, in silhouette, were the hatchbacks that everybody now knows Americans hate. So Dodge is feinting toward a solid American tradition-have you noticed how station wagons have already caught on with street rodders and cruise nighters?-and then running the basic five-door play.
Don't believe it? Then check out the tailgate. It swings up from a hinge line in the roof about two feet forward of the rear window. This is radical for a station wagon, creating a tailgate you can open without stepping back. It's handy, too, creating an opening you drop objects into rather than having to thrust them forward. But such loadability is also the everyday story of hatchbacks.
The Magnum, DaimlerChrysler hopes, will become the everyday car for lots of Americans. How many? "Twenty thousand?" we ventured. Creed, perhaps thinking we'd laugh if he told us the real sales target, would only say, "More than you think."
