Alpha Males Wanted

Several things happen when you get behind the wheel of BMW’s sumptuously sculpted Z4 Coupe. One, it takes a while to get used to the sitting-in-a-pillbox feeling, because as good-looking as the car is to look at, it’s just not as expansive to look out from thanks to the low roofline and thick C-pillars. Two, you will not actually mind except when you’re parking or merging to the right, because as I just said a while ago, the car is just too good to resist snapping photos at and sneaking a caress when no one is looking.

Within 60 seconds on the road, no other car I’ve driven has evoked as many thumbs up, smiles, and flashing camera bulbs as this one. In the subdivision where I live, the jaded security guards that open the gates and have seen me enter in dozens of cars actually did a double-take the first time I drove through and literally applauded their approval. Local walking and running groups that regularly pass by my house stopped to give it a good once-over and maybe MMS their wives before going on their way. And at the airport one morning when I drove up to fetch an aunt, arriving kababayans fished out their digicams to take pictures of the car while I pretended to ignore them like a seasoned celebrity. Then I realized I wasn’t in their frames anyway.

Regardless of your social stature, much attention is guaranteed to be showered on this car, and you haven’t even gone fast in it yet. As styling statements go, the Coupe must rank right up there with Porsches that cost twice as much and Ferraris thrice more, in part because it is a rarity on Philippine roads (everybody knows what a Ferrari or Porsche looks like, right?), and because by itself, it vindicates BMW’s decision to stick with the controversial Chris Bangle.

Whatever you might think of the 6-Series with its strange rear end or the 7-Series’ standoffish demeanor, nothing but words of praise will spew forth from the salivating mouths of every red-blooded male who claps eyes on this sports car. And women, whether they’re the type you’d bring home to your mother or the type you’ll only tell your best friend about, are only too happy to go for a ride with you.

Sure, with its long hood and short deck proportions it’s a phallic symbol, but the muscular beauty stops short of being vulgar thanks to an absence of excess affectations such as gaping brake ducts or biplane-type spoilers. With the Z4 Coupe, a model that BMW decided to make after the design team put together a sketch of the original convertible with a proper roof, it’s all curves, bulges, and jewel-like cut-lines. Like a German take on an Aston Martin, and even a little of the late Porsche 928 from the rear three-quarters view. Powerful design elements include the fighter-canopy style of the roofline, the faint "Z" on the left and right front fenders, the bulge of the powerdome that subtly peeks into the view out from the driver’s seat, and that long, phallic hood hinting of the throbbing straight-six engine beneath it.

The first time you walk up to it with key in hand, you can’t help but smile at the prospect of spending quality time with this piece of rolling sculpture. Once you’re moving, you’re aching to find a stretch that’s long enough to savor the motor at full-throttle. BMW says that this is the "civilian version" of the Coupe, because as God and the crazies at the M division intended it, the real slim shady, the Big Kahuna in the Z4 lineup is actually the 300-plus horsepower M Coupe.

With only 265 horsepower for the 3.0si Coupe, it’s not a supercar, but who the heck needs one in this country anyway? With its sport suspension always firmly telling your backside and a little bit of your kidneys what’s happening on the road beneath you, the straight-six motor burbling away with a little bit of 60’s-era British sports car baritone, this car is as sporty as you’ll ever want on a day-to-day basis. It resists being driven like, say, a more genteel 320i in traffic as the muscular suspension forever transmits road vibes out-of-sync to your actual speed.

But drive it like it’s meant to be, which is to say aggressively, and things clear up quicker than you can say "the ultimate driving machine". Matched to a 6-speed automatic with both Steptronic sequential shifting and paddle shifters, press deep on the throttle and the car comes to life like a barroom brawler aching for a fight. The firm-riding suspension suddenly makes sense as it presses the tires hard on the road for available traction, the powertrain vrooming up and down the engine range in a glorious symphony of multivalve yell, induction whoosh, and exhaust rumble.

Like that hot date back in college, it will never impress your mother, but boy will you have a good time, and your frat buddies will forever hate you for being the luckiest bastard in the world. You can paddle shift and slice in and out of lanes all day, and aside from the necessary evils of reduced visibility in the name of aesthetics, you’ll never get tired of it. This is an easy car to drive fast: honest in its feedbacks, but never a brute to handle. Unless you’re a race car driver by profession, it’s highly unlikely you’ll ever exceed the car’s prodigious limits. Want the most bang for your 4.620 million bucks? Press that little button down by the console marked "Sport".

In said mode, the transmission takes on a sportier shifting profile, the suspension firms up to near go-kart like hardness, and the steering effort increases. Mash the "go" pedal and away you go, tackling curves and zooming past the peions like you own the road.

Really, it’s hard not to feel like you do own it with this car. In traffic, motorists give you the right of way lest they crash into you and end up paying a fortune for the damages. And at the carwash, the boys give it an extra wipe or two if only to savor the rare moment of caressing such a fine piece of work. To quote my friendly neighborhood carwash attendant (translated from Filipino): "Sir, you’re gonna get all the chicks with this!" And of course, with the mantle of Big Dog status comes the obligation of humility: "Noo… I don’t need to. I’ve already found the one." Left unsaid, of course, was the fact that I owned zero papers of ownership for the car, but why spoil the movie star fantasy?

With cars like this, and especially with a car as exquisitely designed like this one, you can forget about living in the background of society. It will train spotlights on you wherever you go, and one thing is for sure: your life will most definitely never get boring behind the wheel.

THE GOOD: Achingly beautiful design. Exquisitely machined drivetrain. More dynamic technology than you can shake a paddle shifter at. Performance limits that exceed the skill of the average driver.

THE BAD: Claustrophobic cabin. Large blind spots to the rear. Firm ride upsets Granny.

THE VERDICT: An exquisitely crafted machine that combines Teutonic precision with that wonderful Old School sports car spirit.