A few short years ago, I found myself behind the wheel of the monstrous Competition Package-equipped M5. The über-sedan came with an impressive boost to 575 horsepower—the highest output of any production BMW—and that raw, angry power of the turbocharged V8 was only brought into check by the massive sixteen-inch ceramic brakes tucked just behind the Michelin-wrapped twenty-inch wheels. The Competition Package was the ultimate version of the Ultimate Driving Machine.
None of that mattered, though.
I was in a line of traffic trying to cross the U.S.-Canadian border just south of Vancouver on the morning of the 9/11 anniversary, and I had also made the mistake of drinking too much coffee prior to my departure. Turns out 575 stampeding Bavarian horses don’t do you much good as you inch forward at 5 mph. Thankfully, after about an hour, the traffic cleared, and we opened up the tap on the M5 to find the nearest rest stop. Turns out those same German ponies are good at quickly getting you up to—and well beyond—posted speed limits. While focusing on the road ahead, I decided that my only excuse to use on a highway patrolman would be, “I thought I was still in kph?” I doubt that would have gone over well.
My conclusion was that the M5, while rounding out the upper echelon of BMW M performance cars, is effectively overpowered on public roads. With so much potential oomph available at the behest of my right foot, things can quickly go from joy to jail. The performance is simply too much to explore the limits on the open road.
For that reason, I believe that some of the best BMWs available are also some of their cheapest.
Why is a $35,000 228i better than a $95,000 M5? Simple: accessibility. By that I don’t mean that the car is easier for me to squeeze myself behind the wheel, either. Money aside, performance—or lack thereof—is a key to the accessibility of a car, and therefore the enjoyment. How often are we able to utilize to its potential a large sedan or coupe that carries 93% of the output of a McLaren F1, and can dash to 60 mph in 4.2 seconds? Well, not very often, if you want to keep your license. For that reason, the smaller BMWs are the most enjoyable.
Earlier in 2015, I had the opportunity to stretch the legs of an M235i on an expansive skid pad, appropriately watered down, to evaluate inclement-weather handling. The stubby little 2 Series body seemed perfect to handle the glassy surface by easily cutting in and out of a coned-based slalom and rapidly changing direction, at the request of hyperbolic steering and throttle inputs; a quick dab of throttle rewarded me with a burble and a growl from the exhaust, while simultaneously hanging the rear out wide, just inches from clipping cones. The car probably never reached 50 mph, yet it was one of the most engaging experiences I’ve had in a modern BMW in some time.
I say all of that in order to say this: Size matters for cars—but bigger engines and more power don’t always equate to a better car. Indeed, the equation is quite the opposite. On the road, given the choice of an M5 and a 228i Sport Line, I’ll take the 228i every time. While I love the M5—and always have—that much power means that I’d be deep into illegal territory just as I begin to explore the party pieces of most any turbocharged V8 M car. In a 228i, I can more easily exploit the chassis and engine well within the confines of most roads’ posted limits.
Beyond the legality of where and how a car can be enjoyed, the ethos of BMW is rooted in its lower echelon of cars. Smaller, simpler, and less powerful cars, such as the 2, 3, and 4 Series ranges, yield better balance and more usable cars available to the skills of most—not all, but most—and does so in a handsome, competent, and efficient manner. Does it get more Teutonic than that? Their perceived weaknesses against the upper crust of BMW’s lineup are actually their strengths.
There is good reason that the 3 Series is has reached the ripe age of 40. It is a great formula of luxury, sporting pretensions, and distinctive styling that can let its hair down and rip through squiggly sets of asphalt like no other car in its class. The 2 Series seems poised to follow the same line of success for the same reasons. The ultimate Two, the new M2, is all but ready to be unleashed on the market, and it should make a big splash with enthusiasts—not unlike the 1 Series M Coupe before it.
I have high hopes for the M2, as it could be one of the most important cars BMW will bring to market in 2016. Ironically, the M2 will be the cheapest M car available, at just a hair over $51,000—and the least powerful, being down nearly 50 horsepower from the M3 and M4. Despite diminutive power and size, the M2 will no doubt be the most engaging and accessible M car in the BMW lineup. I expect that the traits which some would perceive as weakness will turn out to be the strengths of the best-ever embodiment of BMW’s ethos.
So, size matters—just not the way you would think.—Andrew Murphy
