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HYPE MACHINE - Toyota GR Yaris Review

craigtoone

Updated: Jan 16


Will the real Toyota GR Yaris please stand up? In this long-term review and high-performance assessment, Kristian Spreckley delves into the dynamic attributes and assesses the long-term ownership experience of the homologation hatch.

Photography by Ben Midlane


HYPE – in the age of the ‘Attention Economy’ we’re surrounded by it, bombarded by every social media platform or marketing department we engage with. If there’s one word that sums up the GR Yaris, hype is it. I don’t think any car has ever been the subject of as much fanfare as this little rally special, yet it’s possible the hype train might’ve been more of a burden than a good thing

Born in a time when the car community was whipping itself into a frenzy over the impending doom of the internal combustion engine, nevermind one that was starved of affordable, driver-focused cars (let alone bonafide homologation specials!), the expectation and goodwill towards the Yaris was off the charts. Throw in the interruption of COVID lockdown keeping us all off the roads and Toyota stringing us along with a drawn-out teaser campaign, the excitement reached fever pitch. Then, finally, the reviews came in and the car delivered. Big time.


It was a perfect storm moment for the GR Yaris. This little car has probably had more positive reviews than any other in recent times, whether it be from both longstanding, respected members of the motoring press to YouTube influencers. Like the talking up of the England football team's chances whenever an international tournament comes around, could such exposure have been more of a curse than a blessing? In true build-them-up, knock-them-down fashion, it’s now becoming trendy to call the car overrated in certain circles. Is it a case of, as Public Enemy said, “don’t believe the hype”?

 

So, what we have here is a review of the car's performance over the roads of Lancashire, sprinkled with feedback from a long-term ownership perspective. The aim is to cut through all that hype of three years ago and give an honest, objective appraisal over two-and-a-half years living with the car, not a few hours, or even a week that form your average road test verdict. A lot of dust has settled since the GR Yaris was first launched and most reviews have tailed away, so now seems like the perfect time to revisit the car with the revised 2024 model on the horizon.


I’m going to assume that reading this magazine, you’re already well versed in the arts of the homologation special, thus the mouthwatering specification of the GR Yaris; the bespoke, strengthened body shell, the most powerful turbocharged three-cylinder engine in production, the lightweight construction (1,280 kg kerb weight) and an all-wheel-drive system with a differential at each axle (assuming you’ve specified the Circuit Pack). Famously, so much was changed on this car, the only elements carried over from the Yaris Harold and Doris drive to Morrisons are the light units, the mirrors and the shark fin antenna - literally everything else is changed.



However, you’ll already know that the V6 is all about what's behind you, than in front. Obviously there are no rear seats, but nothing prepares you for the sheer volume of the three-litre V6 - it eats up all the rear cabin space and a large engine cover dominates the view astern. Start it up and things go a notch further, there’s that characteristic big engine whir as the starter motor turns and then after a few revolutions, the V6 fires into life, making a lovely initial noise before settling down to a very calm, almost sewing machine like noise at tick over. There’s no doubt that although it's a big engine, it sounds pretty mechanically efficient at idle and calm, which is at odds with its proximity - you’d expect it to be pulsating a firing order in your spinal fluid. This car is an enigma, and I can’t wait to dig deeper into the puzzle.

This is my first article for Rush and I honestly couldn’t have hoped for a better way to kick things off. The V6 is a car that I’ve adored from afar, having probably only ever seen a couple on the roads since the Phase 1 variant launched back in 2001. So, the chance to finally get up close and personal with such an icon was an opportunity I couldn’t pass up. Fortunately, the weather gods are being kind, serving up an ‘Indian summer’ of sunshine and dry roads, ideal for testing a car with a wayward handling bias!



The Renault Sport Clio V6 launched in 2001 as a road car, having been unveiled at the Paris Motor Show in 1998 to wild acclaim, following the production of the Clio V6 Trophy which was produced for a one-make race series to promote the Clio II, taking over from the Sport Spider to promote Renault through motorsport. These racers inspired the road cars, taking inspiration from the widely famed mid-engined Renault 5 Turbos of the mid-80s. The Trophy cars were full competition cars developed and built using a standard Clio FWD chassis by Tom Walkinshaw Racing (TWR) between 1999 and 2003.

As well as completely reworking the standard Clio shell to take the rear engine and wider tracks, each car was fitted with a sequential Sadev gearbox, full roll cage and magnesium wheels. They looked fantastic and their success paved the way for the production of a road car in limited numbers, although the trophy was a very different car to the road variant, sharing only very minor body parts. 159 Trophy cars were built in total, relatively large numbers for a one make race series.

The engine was derived from the 3.0 litre 60 degree V6 ES9 that was installed in the (probably best whispered!) Laguna, producing 285 PS (281 bhp; 210 kW) in the Trophy cars, 230 PS (169 kW; 227 bhp) in Phase I guise and 255 PS (188 kW; 252 bhp) in Phase II cars. Torque was also marginally higher in the Trophy at 307 N⋅m (226 lb⋅ft) versus 300 N⋅m (221 lb⋅ft) in the road car. A total of 1,555 (256 UK) Phase I cars were built between 2001 and 2003, before the Phase II was introduced with additional power (to offset the increase in weight) alongside thorough chassis tweaks.




All Clio V6s were built by hand at a rate of 12 cars per day - Phase I cars were manufactured by TWR in Uddevalla, Sweden. Renault then moved production to the ex-Alpine Dieppe factory for the Phase II, but TWR remained at the tip of the development spear. Production ended in 2005 with a total of 1,309 (354 UK cars) Phase II cars produced.

So what’s the difference between a Phase I and Phase II car? Phase II cars received a face lift in line with the standard Clio models, an increase in power to 252bhp and significant chassis changes which included longer trailing arms, hence a slightly longer wheelbase, increased front track, revised subframes including cross members to stiffen the structure, stiffer suspension and corresponding changes to the bump stops.

These changes resulted in a car that gained an additional 45kg but importantly, the chassis changes made a big difference to the dynamics of the Phase II car, producing a car that handled much more predictably and that was also able to make use of the additional power. At the time it was said to be night and day better than the Phase I from a pure handling perspective.



As we know, the engine was put in the rear of the car and the combination of the sheer size of the engine and the increased structural work required to house it meant a 334kg (379kg for the Phase 2) increase in weight over the featherweight 172 Cup. Whilst the engine output is a significant hike over the 172’s 2-litre unit, the additional weight means it’s only marginally quicker to 60 mph, posting 6.2 to the 172’s 6.7 seconds. However, the layout and engine produce a completely different driving experience.

What do you notice first? From the look of the car and the wide tracks, you expect it to be physical but it's not, it's rather like all other Renaults, fast or not, they all feel like shopping cars, which is both good and bad. Bad because on initial turn in and at slow speeds it feels overly light to steer but press on a bit, load the steering up and that starts to change but make no mistake, like most cars of this vintage, you need to wind more lock on to turn the car compared to modern machinery like an M2.

Although the lack of any feel and feeling of over assistance is slightly disconcerting at first, you actually become glad of it very quickly and realise just how easy the car is to drive in everyday situations and as soon as you’re dialled into your favourite road and picking up pace, everything weights up nicely. What could be improved in the V6 is the vagueness around the straight ahead, there’s just a bit too much initial ‘slop’ but perhaps this is by design so as not to provoke the short wheelbase chassis during initial turn in.




And how does the chassis react to steering input? In a way you don’t expect based on that initial feel. The car has to take a moment, we’re talking very brief moments in time, to settle after an initial weight transfer but then it takes on an altogether different character, as if it has latched onto tracks in the road, it digs in and genuinely feels like it has endless amounts of grip, which I suspect is a result of that wide, short, almost square, chassis set up.

The gear change is tight, easy to use, relatively precise and feels much stronger than most other Renault gear boxes I've ever used. It really is great to use and only let down by being perhaps set slightly too far forward, in a way that’s hard to believe from an ergonomic design perspective. I suspect it's the result of an engineering requirement where they had to arrive at a best fit scenario. However, the height is nice and helps make up for the forward positioning.

The steering is affected by similar ergonomic misgivings, at least for me, in being set too far forward to allow for a comfortable leg position, forcing my legs to feel slightly cramped without sitting with over extended arms. It’s also slightly original Mini-esque in not being set particularly vertical - we’re not talking London bus flat, but it's certainly noticeable. I do however manage to reach a reasonable compromise that allows for confident driving. Once in a comfortable position, as with many cars from this era, visibility is superb.



How do the pedals fall? Pretty well actually and the brake and accelerator are well positioned with good surface area for easy heel and toe gear changes - a theme that runs through all the manual Renaults I have driven over the last 15 years.

For a car as seemingly ‘exotic’ as this, the interior is a bit of a let down and is very Renault! The seats are standard Renault Sport seats from the Clio 172 but you feel they could have stretched to something more fitting like the seats from the Clio Trophy, Recaros in other words. The interior plastics and switchgear are similarly low rent, the soft touch plastics have become sticky through years of use and seem a little out of place in a car that now commands a price tag of £50k upwards, but having said that, there is a certain ambience and charm about the interior that suits the car.

But this car isn’t about interior build quality and ergonomics, it’s about how the thing looks and drives, that’s where the magic lies. As we head out, the autumn sun frames a fantastic landscape with rolling roads and challenging bends for miles. There’s a fantastic hairpin as we approach the bottom of the moors and the car feels really secure around here, accelerating out it really grips and puts the power down with what feels like traction, firing us down a the next short stretch before a right then left over the bridge at the bottom of the hill where we can carry good speed - these roads are fantastically free flowing and on a dry day like today, perfect for the Clio.