The Toyota Corolla GR And The Power Of Ignorance

Many years ago, I found myself at a Cars & Coffee, or Caffeine and Cars, or perhaps an Espresso and Eagle Talons. I have many adventures, so the details sometimes blur together at the edges. What’s important is that I’d borrowed a Rolls-Royce that week, which was a mistake, so I begged my colleague Travis to take it off my hands so I wouldn’t be forced to park a car worth all my possessions (combined x50) on the rough streets of pre-Apple-Store Williamsburg.

So we met up at Kappuccinos Und Karmann Ghias. He swapped for a…. Mazda? I think it was a Mazda. And I gave him a Rolls-Royce. As far as trades go, it felt like a steal to me. A Rolls-Royce is an incredible object. With some offense to Adrian, it is a work of art. But no one street parks a Basquiat in Brooklyn, is all I’m saying.

When we were there, we happened to bump into a few young car owners who were excited to meet a couple of car writers. I’ll never forget meeting a kid in his 20s with an Alfa Romeo 4C Spider. Either through hard work or the luck of birth, this guy ended up with some money, and he used that money to acquire the most Italian sports car he could afford. Given that a 4C sold for around $70,000 back then, this was a car that was many times cheaper than even the most affordable new Ferrari or Lamborghini.

I have a soft spot for the 4C, which is a strange little car with a pleasing exhaust note, reasonably spry handling, and an aesthetic that makes it look more expensive than it ever was. It’s also a Fiat parts bin sports car with all of the problems a Fiat parts bin sports car is likely to have.

Steering? It does steer, but not in a way that’s pleasing to anyone who has driven a 718, or Miata, or even a 2006 Honda Accord. The top moves with all the enthusiasm of your average Italian assembly line worker after a long lunch. The engine is laggy as hell, and the transmission is controlled through a set of buttons modeled, I presume, after a Dutch PlayStation controller.

I didn’t say any of this to the Alfa owner, and I remember Travis politely nodding along when the guy described how great the motor was and, specifically, how much he loved the way the unassisted steering felt. I couldn’t help it, so I did ask which other sports cars he’d driven.

“None! This is the first fast car I’ve ever owned or driven,” he said.

I’m pretty sure I just said “Congrats,” but in my mind I was thinking “Never drive any other sports car and you’ll be blissfully happy.” It’s a cliché, but granting that the Alfa sounds better and arguably looks better, he could have spent about half as much on a Miata and had a superior driving experience.

You can play this game all day. Another friend, who did have experience driving cars, really wanted a 911. He was torn between a used 997 and a then-new first-year 991. I told him, purely based on steering feel, he’d be happier with the 997. He ended up with a 991 and, against my advice, drove someone’s 997 after the purchase. Suddenly, the 991 didn’t seem so great, and he got rid of it.

None of this is to say that my opinions are gospel or that the Alfa owner didn’t get a chance to drive a Boxster and still felt the Alfa was better. It’s possible. This is really just my way of saying that sometimes ignorance is bliss.

I mention this all because I got a chance to drive the automatic Toyota Corolla GR Premium. I’d wanted the manual, of course, but only the automatic was in the press fleet, and between a GR with an automatic or waiting potentially months for one with a clutch pedal, I took the auto. Plus, Thomas already drove the manual and loved it, so maybe providing a perspective on the Corolla GR with the automatic would be helpful to you, our readers.

My initial thought was that comparing the automatic and the manual would be the best way to understand the car, but the more I drove the automatic, the happier I was I hadn’t. I enjoyed this car and some portion of that enjoyment probably came from ignorance.

The Basics

Engine: 1.6-liter turbocharged three-cylinder

Transmission: Eight-speed direct automatic transmission

Drive: all-wheel-drive with front/rear Torsen limited slip differentials

Output: 300 horsepower, 295 lb-ft of torque

Fuel Economy: 19 MPG City, 27 MPG Highway, 22 Combined

Body style: Five-door hatchback

Base price: $47,515

Price as-tested: $50,144 including $1,135 Freight Charge

What Are You Paying $50,000 For?

Almost everyone I saw who saw the car was initially excited. It looks like a pocket rally hatchback, because it is a pocket rally hatchback. It is a three-cylinder motor that’s tuned to freakin’ Valhalla to produce 300 horsepower. Again, that’s 300 horsepower from an engine that displaces less than I do at an all-you-can-eat taco buffet. By comparison, a C3 Corvette needed about three times as much displacement and five more cylinders to achieve the same amount of power. This isn’t to say that this engine doesn’t come with risks, but it’s an incredible thing to observe.

Once I told people this cost $50,000 as equipped (Premium Plus), they were a little less enthused. Even when I said that the basest base model only costs $40,000 they still didn’t seem to totally get it.

But even without driving it, if you love cars you should get it. You’re not playing for soft-touch plastics or advanced driving aids. If anything, you’re paying for the absence of those things. The $50,000 is the cost for this car to exist at all. Toyota doesn’t have to do this and understands, reasonably, that for $50,000, most people would just buy the biggest Highlander or 4Runner they could afford. This car is not for those people. It’s for you. Or me.

Plus, someone had to develop a version of the company’s eight-speed automatic transmission and make it work in a car that’s supposed to feel like a rally car. How? Here’s how Toyota explains it:

In designing the available 8-speed GAZOO Racing Direct Automatic Transmission (DAT), Toyota focused on achieving the fastest possible downshift speed. Optimized for sporty driving, the DAT control software delicately senses the way the driver steps on the brakes and operates the accelerator. With these inputs, it anticipates when gear shifting is optimal even before changes in vehicle behavior occur, achieving a gear selection that reflects the driver’s intentions and, thus, leads to shifting that is similar to that of professional drivers.

The DAT allows drivers to focus more on acceleration/braking and steering maneuvers, so drivers may be able to drive faster if they decide to hit the track. As a result, it opens up possibilities for a wider range of drivers to enjoy sports track driving.

The Toyota GR development team used circuit and rally driving courses as a basis for setting the DAT’s close gear ratio. Increasing the number of gears from six to eight allows the transmission to have closer ratios and helps maximize delivery of engine power and torque to the wheels and enables optimal performance. Even casual highway driving has an energetic feel, due to the eight-speed transmission optimizing RPMs while at cruising speeds.

Developed for the track, you say? It’s here I have to make a little admission. We had Lime Rock Park’s autocross booked for the day, and I sort of asked Toyota for permission to take the car. Someone at Toyota said they were worried about tires being available for the next driver since there was another loan directly after mine, so they’d “prefer [I] didn’t.” Taking that preference into account, I drove the car to the track and beat on it sufficiently on backroads near the track on the way up, as requested.

Buuut… I had a car and an autocross course. I knew I could take a couple of laps and let it cool down without causing any sufficient wear to the tires, which I did. I also realized that in a situation where the car could only be driven carefully to maintain brakes/tires/fluids I should make sure the person doing the bulk of those laps had a better sense of cars and tracks than I did.

Enter friend/announcer/race car driver/mogul/airline upgrade appreciator Parker Kligerman.

What Does A Real Race Car Driver Think?

 

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Hi, Parker here. When I was around 10 years old — which would’ve been in the year 2000  — I vividly remember going on car websites to look at supercars, but I always ended up gravitating to the “rally cars for the street.” To me, they were something special. First off, rally racing is some of the most badass racing in the world. And second, the cars were pure superhero stuff — normal-looking street cars with fire-breathing, crackling, burbling turbocharged engines, white wheels, and an ability to absolutely send it on snow, gravel, or tarmac.

As I got older, I always threatened to get a WRX or a Lancer, but it felt like we in America never got the real stuff — the special, true rally-spec versions. Then came the Ford Focus RS, and I seriously considered buying one. I test-drove it. I negotiated with a dealer. I didn’t end up pulling the trigger, but the thought stuck with me.

I had an Audi A3 for a while, and before I sold it, I even threatened to turn it into a rally car and do a YouTube series about it (I still wish I did that). As a NASCAR driver, what drew me to rally cars is that — unlike our race cars, which have absolutely nothing in common with their road-going versions — a rally car with the right engine on the street feels damn close to the real deal.

So when the GR Corolla finally came to U.S. shores, I remember telling Matt, “Holy shit, sign me up.” And then… I never got to drive one. Until the other day — when Matt invited me to take one around Lime Rock. Even though it was the automatic, I loved it. I felt like I was 10 again. But this time, unlike the kid staring at forbidden fruit on a website, I was actually driving the kind of car I always dreamed would come to America.

We did a One Lap Review — a new series where we take cars up to Lime Rock’s autocross course and give you all the thoughts a roughly one-minute lap can provide. In this one, my first reaction was that the GR Corolla feels like a pent-up bulldog. From its stance to the way it behaves when you get into the throttle off a corner, it just feels like all of its muscle is being pulled back like a rubber band, ready to explode forward in an angry, bulldog-trying-to-get-a-bone kind of way.

Once you’re in the corner, all that energy shifts to the tires, which somehow manage to grip the track and pivot you around faster than a Twitter crypto bro pivoting to AI.

This turning ability is most obvious when you give the car a beat in the middle of the corner — just off the brake and before getting back on the throttle — where it feels like the inside front tire grabs the apex and pulls the car around. Then you get back into the gas, and unleash that slingshot effect all over again.

Even though it has multiple settings that adjust the amount of work each axle does under acceleration, in every mode, it still exhibits a slight understeer on exit. You sense the front tires are hitting their limit, like an intern who’s just been told they have to come back to the office. It’s too much.

But despite the short time I had in it, the GR Corolla absolutely lived up to the superhero fantasy I always imagined a rally car for the street would deliver. In our One Lap Review, I gave it a 9 out of 10.

On a tight autocross track, this car will make you think you’re ready for the WRC.

Will I Ever Drive The Manual? (Back to Matt)

Yeah, probably. As much as I loved this car, I suspect the fun of an AWD rally hatch with a stick that you can fit in your pocket will overwhelm my desire to preserve the memory of this specific car. My guess is that I’ll be able to hold onto this memory a little longer, though.

Photos: Author, Unless Otherwise Noted