Alfa Romeo Brera – the car world's greatest misses

The styling sketches and concept of the Alfa Romeo Brera were gorgeous, Giorgetto Giugiaro at his best. It was a vision in red, from the sleek, crisply detailed nose to the truncated rump. So much more seductive than the other affordable Alfa coupe of the time, the bland, forgettable, Bertone-styled GT (you can be forgiven for having to google it). But while nobody expected the award-winning Brera concept to make it to production with gullwing doors and a 400bhp Maserati V8 under the bonnet, something closer to the concept’s proportions would have helped.

Concept cars have a lip-service relationship with reality, of course. Their job is to pitch the concept, sell the idea. Once they’re green-lighted, production reality asserts its gravity. Engineers turn fanciful into practical, ditching wheels the size of tumble-dryer drums with painted-on rubber, while accountants suck the cost and character from glitzy, expensive and impractical interiors. Truth is, if three or four years later you can gaze upon the production car and think that it captures the spirit and essential style of the concept, then the company has done a good job.

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Although unquestionably more practical, the production Brera was a dumpy rendering of the original, apparently shorter of wheelbase and taller of roof, as if it had been warmed up and squeezed in a giant vice. On its small 17-inch-diameter alloys and pillowy tyres it looked like a once glamourous Hollywood star papped at a local store: middle-aged and a bit flabby. Perhaps Alfa had decided to save all the good stuff (including the V8 and attractive styling) for the 8C Competizione, for which it would charge handsomely.

Still, at least the Brera was fun to drive, right? Ah. No. It was a bit of a pudding. We generously gave the 2.2 ‘four’ and all-wheel-drive V6 four stars at launch, but group tested with the competition on UK roads the Brera sank like a dodgy souffle. Its 3.2-litre V6 sounded decent but felt lazy thanks to an uninterested auto ’box, while the dynamics were hampered by a lack of steering feel and a ride that was both loosely controlled and tactile. The four-wheel-drive ‘Q4’ drivetrain had no trouble containing the V6’s output and there was some crispness and agility if you went hunting for it, but the feistiest Brera seemed to be suffering an identity crisis, undecided if it was a sports car or a luxury coupe. As is the way of these things, it could all be traced back to an awkward upbringing. A solid three stars it was.

And that might have been the end of the tale if it weren’t for the ambitions of the UK arm of Alfa Romeo, which persuaded Italy to invest £1m and let Prodrive (who’d run the 155s in the BTCC) develop the V6 model. They ditched the four-wheel drive, reworked the chassis with their own geometry, added new springs and dampers and cast their own, bigger 19-inch alloys, in the style of Alfa’s iconic ‘horseshoe’ design. The result was the simply named but significantly improved Brera S. It was a car transformed: dynamic, engaging, rewarding. Still a bit dumpy looking but, hey, there’s only so much you can do on a budget. Just 500 were built for the UK. It’s the only one to have.

This story was first featured in evo issue 331.