I generally attribute this predilection to something related to the appeal of the exotic, the innate human desire to always want what you can’t have, which is why I think I’ve always been more drawn to strange little cars from other countries instead of the big American iron I grew up surrounded by. The American cars that made up the background layer of the automotive quilt I was wrapped up in throughout my formative years may have had plenty of appeal, but for a long time I was blind to them.
But I’m older now, not smarter by any stretch, but something between more experienced and just simply worn down. Whatever it is, I now find myself able to appreciate some big American land yachts in ways that I just never felt before.
Maybe it’s because I finally have a fleet of tiny weird cars at my disposal, including a Nissan Pao, VW Beetle, and, most recently, a Citroën 2CV, so perhaps with those urges (temporarily) sated, I can feel free to appreciate things outside my usual circle of obsessions. Things like the first-generation (1973 to 1975) Pontiac Grand Am.
How many times have I seen these cars in my life? Plenty. Plenty plenty. And ridden in them and parked next to them and jump started/been jump started by them, all so many times. As a child of the 70s and 80s myself, the prime Malaise-era barges were pretty much everywhere.
And I feel like I never really looked at them, because if I had, I think I would have appreciated them a lot more. Look at these things! They’re downright exuberant! Those exaggerated, curving fenders, front and rear, the flowing lines, that bold beak-like nose, flanked by all those grille slats, the delicate use of thin chrome trim, the crosshair turn indicators, the airy greenhouse with those thin pillars, the whole damn thing! It feels very Syd Meade, a design from a future where drama beat out rationality, and we were all having a pretty good time as a result.
Also, note the cornering lamps below the side markers. I always like those.
I do kind of wonder why Pontaic seemed to only be able to shoot these cars at night at the same spot in a tunnel, but maybe they were doing the photography off the books and had to keep it quiet.
Still, look how flowy and elegant these damn things were! And that’s just the sedan; the coupé was, arguably, even more so, of everything:
The whole point of the Grand Am can be sussed out from its name: Pontiac took the “Grand” from the luxurious Grand Prix and the “Am” from the sportier Trans Am, creating what they hoped would be a sort of unholy, or, hell, maybe even holy hybrid of luxury and sportiness.
I’m not sure just how sporty these things really were – sure, they had massive 6.6-liter and gargantuan 7.5-liter V8s, but thanks to Malaise Era emissions magic, those engines made a meager 170 and 200 hp (250 hp with a really big carb) and they handled like a bar of soap escaping the tub.
But, who cares, just look at these exuberant things! On the coupé, they even came up with a name for opera windows I haven’t heard before:
Ooh, a “formal” rear quarter window! Classy!
Pontiac really wanted people to see these as an American take on GT cars, of a sort:
That commercial also show off one of my favorite features of GMs of this era: the “Endura” deformable plastic bumpers and front ends that you could squish with impunity:
Look at that! You can just scrunch that thing up, back away, and it pops back into shape! I’m not sure how many times you could really do this, but still, pretty cool. Also, I have to donate some props to the copywriter here, because the “pressing your nose against a window pane” analogy is spot-on and gives every nose-bearing mammal an instant and visceral understanding of what’s going on here.
The dashboards in these cars had a novel feel, too, with a bent shape and lots of round gauges. Those gauges could include an “economy gauge,” which, with those 6.6 and 7.5-liter V8s, was really more of a gauge designed to most effectively quantify your dissapointment.
Still, who was buying these things for economy? Look at that thing. It’s so swoopy and substantial and, well, seventies, in the best way possible. I just wish I appreciated them more when they were all around me.
So then “Grand” means large, and “Am” means “Am,” and that concludes our intensive four week course.
This car is the 70s definition of a butter face.
The insanity of two massive V8 engines being brought right at the start of two major 1970’s fuel crises was definite bad timing / bad idea.
Hindsight being what it is, you can use it as an example of American auto industry hubris – especially considering price caps put in place in early 1970’s ahead of the first oil crisis that artificially kept American oil prices low compared to the rest of the world (familiar story, I’m sure).
This is one of those cars where I can sort of see why someone would like it. However, that someone is not me.
My dad had the Buick Colonnade (Regal) and it wasn’t as good looking as the Pontiac, but few were. It was obviously his humble daily but also used it for pulling his boat on occasion (a 24′ Chris Craft) which is simultaneously remarkable and foolish, but spot on for how everyone rolled in the 70’s. As a current boat owner who carefully calculated the size and weight of the vessel before purchase to be sure that our Grand Cherokee could handle it and still have a good safety measure under the towing capacity, I’m amazed and terrfied in retrospect at what my dad did back then. Admittedly, he only used it to get the thing out of storage and tow it to South Jersey for the season (about three hours, not many hills), but still.
I can’t get past how pretty much every malaise era car feels about the same to drive. Economy car. Station wagon. “Sports car”… No power; Floating; Driving from your couch; Terrible gas mileage.
They were like RC cars with replaceable plastic tops; They looked different but were all basically the same crap.
My aunt had one of these. The rubber nose looked it – it was obviously different from the rest of the car, and I wonder how well those things held up over time.
As for “sporty” or “GT” – I remember us coming home from a family reunion where my aunt had bragged about her “hot” car. So my Dad blew by her on the freeway like she was standing still in our ’64 Lincoln Continental.
Right with ya, Torch. Once the novelty of the Colonnade designs wore off and entropy started to unfold as it did with all Malaise-era iron, I lost my appreciation for them. But Pontiac did possibly the best job adapting to the tougher bumper rules, and the style certainly was exuberant its own way. I would be happy to see one of these at a car show.
Speaking of which, about a month ago I saw a ’72 Imperial LeBaron coupe at a show, 50something-K on the clock, black with an avocado interior, all original, unrestored but near spotless. It was INCREDIBLE.
Of the Colonnades, these might have been the best looking…
…but they were the rarest too.
Far more common were – in descending order – the Monte Carlo (Best selling American car 1973), Cutlass Supremes (Best selling American car 1975-1983), Chevelles, Grand Prix, Centurys & Regals….
Someone in my neighborhood has a Grand Am and a Buick Century of this generation. The Pontiac is pretty nice. The Century was a donk and is now back to “normal” but has been painted entirely in a metallic mint green; and when I say entirely, I mean basically everything that isn’t a window or a head/taillight has been painted. Bumpers, grill, mirrors… everything.
These “dark era” advertisements that Pontiac used in the 70’s certainly have a vibe to them.