Skip to content

MCALEER: Why do we pooh-pooh cars from France?

A paddock of Ferraris. A pen of Lamborghinis. A cotillion of Alfa Romeos. And I walked right past them. Last Sunday was the Italian and French car show down at Waterfront Park.
Grinding Gears: Why do we pooh-pooh cars from France?

A paddock of Ferraris. A pen of Lamborghinis. A cotillion of Alfa Romeos. And I walked right past them.

Last Sunday was the Italian and French car show down at Waterfront Park. An annual affair, this year featured a banner turnout for both of the romance languages, the sun-scorched field crammed with curvy sheetmetal of the best sort.

The Italians, as mentioned, had all sorts of sumptuous iron on display, but for me it was the French turnout that really dropped le jaws. Just about 50 cars of all description were here, everything from a prewar Bugatti to a scruffy little Renault Le Car.

In Canada, pretty much every automobile-producing nation gets fair and equal representation. Heck, we even build a few cars ourselves. Yet somehow, the French have been absent from our shores for beaucoup of a long temps (okay, I'll stop with the pidgin Francais as a few of you have already started screaming).

German precision, Japanese reliability, American moxie - surely to goodness there's room for a little more? Something, perhaps, a little bit special?

Once or twice a year, I'll end up covering a European car show; along with all the usual ridiculously optimistic concept cars and humdrum everyday stuff revealed to throbbing techno music, there'll be the Peugeots, the Renaults, the Citroëns. Maybe it's just the childhood influence of my Parisian godmother, but some of this stuff would actually translate pretty well.

The time of French machinery being willful and unreliable is pretty much at an end - these days you get the character without the infidelity. They're still pretty interesting though. Here's a look at a few Frenchies that should make the trip over tout de suite.

Citroën Cactus

Innovation is a Citroen hallmark, but so too is bargain-basement cheapness. Think of the Cactus as a sort of descendant of the 2CV and you'll be getting the right idea - it's an inexpensive little crossover with a few weird ideas and solid practicality.

First a bit of Frenchy coolness - the corrugated side panels that Citroën calls "air-bumps." Sounds a bit like Homer Simpson's speed-holes, does it not? However, these durable plastic panels both look cool and protect your Cactus from parking lot dings and dents. If you've ever been to Paris and seen how the French drive and park, you'll know where the idea came from.

With a range of teeny-tiny engines, you might expect the Cactus to be rather slow. Even considering that it's the weight of a first-generation Miata, it mostly is. That is, until you install one of the most effective performance increasing devices ever conceived: a Frenchman.

Flog the Cactus like a member of the Resistance eluding a German patrol, and the Cactus responds with excellent handling and cornering. It's one of those slow-but-fast machines, and all the while it's getting the fuel economy of a Nissan Micra. Bon.

Peugeot 208 Gti

Only the French would be crazy enough to offer a hot hatchback that looks like it's had one end dipped in a giant nail polish container. The crazy little 208 Gti is the size of a Ford Fiesta, but pumps out a little more power from its revvy 1.6-litre engine.

Brembo brakes, a limited-slip differential, big 18-inch alloys - it's all here. That three-letter acronym (GTI) gives the game away somewhat, but this is a far more zippy and playful car than Volkswagen produces.

Peugeot has a long history of making hot hatches, and this car is actually an anniversary model for the company. Talk to anyone who owned a 205 GTI early on in their driving career, and they'll soon be fondly reminiscing, perhaps in a monologue, maybe whilst smoking a Gitane.

With a six-speed manual, I can think of nothing better for tearing up a backroad like Jean Alesi than the feisty little 208 GTI. On the right road, super-compact machines like this are even more fun than high-power pony cars.

Renault Kadjar

Renault has all kinds of cars that are droolworthy, everything from the sprightly little Twingo and Twizy to the capacious Kangoo vans. But what about a machine that would actually sell?

The Kadjar is roughly analogous to the Nissan Rogue, as the companies share platforms and technologies, but it's much better looking. Higher-spec models come with Murano-like options like 19-inch alloys, and a sleeker style than the Nissan offering.

Also, under the hood, you can get the Kadjar with an efficient small-displacement diesel engine. The 1.6-litre turbodiesel is particularly interesting, making power levels similar to that of a VW TDI unit. Really though, the Kadjar is not fundamentally all that different than cars we can already buy here, just that it's got a little more style, a little more presence, a little more of what the French call - I don't know what. Vive la difference, as they say. We could perhaps use a little more of it in our driving lives.