GM gave us some genuine peak experiences before its long fall. Their post-war summit was the mid sixties; its stock hit $358 (adjusted) in 1965, and profits crested in 1966 at $15 billion (adjusted). What about the best year for its cars? That would have to be 1963, with the trio of Corvette Sting Ray, Pontiac Grand Prix and Buick Riviera. And which one gets the nod as number one? I keep changing my mind; can’t we just have a little four-way love fest? But this Riviera happened to be sitting along the road on the way home from the lumber yard, so for today anyway, it’s got the nod. Lucky me.
I can accept the fickle finger of fate making the call, but I do have some mixed feelings about this particular example that beckoned me. I envisioned an original specimen in white, with tan interior. I’m not sure what name to give this re-paint,but its clearly in tune with the matte phase. And I’ve never seen wheel covers like these which remind me of Messala’s spoke-eating chariot hubs in Ben-Hur.
But despite, or maybe because of the removal of some of the Riviera’s chrome accents and door handles, the dramatic sweep and purity of its lines are still very much intact. I don’t know of another car that works so well from any angle. It simply doesn’t have a bad line on it. Well, except for the gaps from those ill-fitting doors. I can feel it working that old Bill Mitchell magic on me and transport me right back to 1963 and the Buick dealer’s showroom in Iowa City.
As a ten-year old GM acolyte, I would sit in devotion for hours in the Riviera, that sacred chapel of St. Mark of Excellence.
And it was the only car worthy of back seat equal time in that beautiful bucket seat. What a revelation, to put in the same seat there as in the front; I’d never seen anyone be so bold before, at least in Detroit. Whichever seat I was in, I held the expensive heavy-stock Buick hymnal memorizing the sacred texts: “standard engine: Wildcat 465 (named for its torque output; it took me a while to figure that out), 340 horsepower, four-barrel carburetor. Optional: Super Wildcat, 360 horsepower, dual four-barrel carburetors…”
If a genuine potential customer came in and wanted to see under the Riviera’s deeply sculpted hood, I’d bolt out to join the admiration for the big nailhead 401 or 425 sitting there. I didn’t really know or understand the details, but I could tell that the Buick engine’s distinctive vertical valve covers implied something special, so unlike any other Detroit V8. Except old Chryler hemis, that is; you just knew that a Firepower or Firedome was in another league altogether, even if you didn’t know exactly why.
I would have lit votive candles for Bill Mitchell on that dramatic sweep of chrome instrument altar if I thought the salesmen wouldn’t throw me out. In retrospect, I’m surprised they didn’t anyway. Salesmen were more patient with potential far-future customers then. And when I eventually got restless in the showroom, I’d walk back into the service area, roam around under the cars on the lifts, and hang out with the mechanics. Many a summer day in the pre-litigation era well spent.
As a kid, I intuitively knew the Riviera was very special. But I didn’t fully appreciate the impact it had on the enthusiast/sporty buyers, until I came across a 1964 Car and Driver with an in-depth “Research Report” (5,000 mile extended test). The Riviera is compared favorably with the road-worthy classic Bentley Continental, despite the Buick being less than half the price.
The Buick engineers didn’t just slap that gorgeous body on a shortened Electra frame; a fair amount of effort went into chassis tuning and refinement. And C/D spends pages in highly analytical language and charts comparing roll angles, spring rates, camber, weight distribution, etc. of a very diverse group of “competitors”: the Jaguar Mark X, the Corvette, and the Volvo P-1800(!), and ponders their various effects on the Riviera’s handling. Buff mags have changed as much over the decades as the cars.
The distillation of several arcane pages is this: the Riviera isn’t a true sports car, but can hustle, even through curves, as long as the road is smooth: “We sometimes amused ourselves catching TR-4s and big Healeys on fast bends…(but) the absolute worst was experienced when negotiating a winding road with a succession of dips and rises at a fast clip, when the Riviera moved forward in a series of enormous lurches”. That kind of sums up American cars back then, even the very best of them.
The steering was a bit compromised too: “the muscular effort required to turn the car is very low…[but] the amount of twirling that has to be done with the wheel feels excessive…if you try to throw the Riviera into a sudden turn, you may find yourself halfway into it, with a sudden, if momentary, loss of power assist, and lacking the strength to turn the wheel enough to get through in clean style”. This was a problem that plagued many American power steering assists until…well, it seems that by the mid seventies GM had this problem pretty well licked.
The Riviera was GM’s very belated response to that seminal four-passenger personal luxury coupe, the 1958 Thunderbird. That it took so long is inexcusable. The T-Bird had built up a formidable momentum that the Riviera could never properly dent, despite its good looks. Based on some drawings by Ned Nickles for a possible La Salle revival at Cadillac, the future Riviera was rejected by that division and others until Buick adopted it. Buick was in a slump, and the Riviera was seen as the free agent to turn its game around.
Regardless of Car and Driver’s detailed analysis, In my childhood memory, the Riviera was just a rocket, and a damn elegant one. It’s encapsulated in this one crystal clear image of a Riviera on the go: we were on the mountainous western part of the Pennsylvania Turnpike in 1964, jammed into our hot, black Fairlane. A silver Riviera flashed by us at what seemed twice our speed. I watched in awe and envy, as those distinctive rectangular red taillights faded, then disappeared into the tunnel ahead. All of my combined Riviera fantasies I’d created and stored while sitting in it now whooshed by me. It was like watching a ninth-grade girl you had been staring at and fantasizing about driving off with a senior in his car. I never sat in the Riviera again.
The Riviera, like so many childhood loves, has eluded me. But thanks for the fantasy-memories of sitting in your lap; I’m glad I was there, and that my brain cells felt it worth keeping them so fresh and clear, spiced by the tang of regret. And you still looks so damn beautiful after all these years; how do you do it?
Wow, it appears that GM used those same taillight lens “R”s until at least the 1979-1985 model if not all the way to 1993.
My lusted after 1960s coupes are the Riviera and the Mustang. (Sedans? Well any Cadillac, Lincoln, or Imperial.)
Fantastic write-up! As a teenager in the 1990s, I remember lusting after Rivieras like this one in Hemmings. The front end looks so much like the ’67-’68 full-size Chevys that when I eventually scrounged up enough money, I bought myself a ’68 Bel Air, which today is peacefully rusting in my driveway, along with an ’85 Tercel wagon (my first car) and two ’92 Saab 900s(both still on the road).
This was my first car. My brother and I bought it with 98,000 miles in 1973 for $650, before I had my license. Its still in his garage, but hasn’t been driven for over 30 years. I have many fond memories of that car. I won (and lost) a few races with it. The motor mounts were bad and I cut the upper radiator hose with the power steering pump pulley, drag racing a friend one Sunday afternoon. Thanks for renewing those memories.
Love seeing those old Riviera’s around . They always remind me of that movie The Car or the one in Animal House Flounder borrowed from his brother then foolishly let his frat brothers borrow for a road trip . Speaking of Flounder – Hey Niedermeyer !
http://media.photobucket.com/image/neidermeyer/sashojd/imagesCA69CRO1.jpg?o=2
I gave up on my acting career a long time ago, but I did decide to live in Eugene, since I’ll always be famous here: “Hey, it’s Niedermeyer!”
road trip. emily dickinson college. food king. dean wormer. double secret probation. toga party. fooodfight, food fight. I’m not kidding this is my job. pinto, bluto, d-day, hoover. 1962 Dartmouth deltas, let’s go.
Dean Vernon Wormer:
‘Put Neidermeyer on it. He’s a sneaky little shit just like you’.
“My advice to you is to start drinking heavily.” –Otter (Pre Med/ Law student)
“Fat, drunk, and stupid is no way to go through life, son.”
I never much cared for the exterior styling of these, but that interior is beautifully designed. Real elegance and class, but not overdone.
Paul, you’re absolutely right. There are very few engines (particularly American engines) which have the visual majesty of the Nailhead. Every time I see someone with a 350 in an 1930s Ford I shake my head slowly. It just doesn’t have to be that way.
I have forwarded this article to my closest friend.
He had a brief love affair with a 63 Riv that really needed nothing but a rear main seal..
It was a fantastic car when he got it, and when he sold it it was even better. Thank god he ignored my pleas to put a “normal” Buick mill and an actual THM in it..
My dad had a 63 Riv,white with black interior, I loved that car, would slide across the seat sometimes when he took a curve at speed . We only had it a year or so, the brakes failed and pops took out a fire hydrant,he mom and lil bro took on the dash & windshield. A week latter we got a triple black 66 Duce & a Quarter drop top. I want a 65 Riv GS,maybe next year…
One of the best-looking cars ever. The 1965 model was even better, because it finally got the hidden headlamps it was designed to have all along (stacked vertically behind whatever those things at the left and right are called, which split in half and moved when the lights were on). Also the scallops in the rear fenders ahead of the wheels were removed for an even cleaner look.
The dashboard of the final mid-’90s Rivs was shaped almost exactly like this one.
1963 GMH greatest hit was released the upgraded Holdens with a mild restyle Holden created the EH but the big news was in the engine bay the grey motor was history replaced with a smaller version of the Chevy2 mill and weighing in with 179 cubes and 149 cube was the RED motor. The best selling Holden ever and the motor stayed in production untill 86 when efforts to make it run on unleaded gas failed and it was ditched
If I were moderately wealthy back in 1963, this would most definitely have been my daily driver. Buick has produced a lot of great cars in the years since (the GS 455 Stage 1, Grand Nationals, T-Types), but nothing as important to Buick, or the US auto industry at large, as the ’63 Riv. It stole the personal luxo coupe trophy from the Thunderbird and never gave it back. Well, maybe in 1986, but still… Too bad they don’t make anything like these big luxo-coupe barges anymore without a BMW badge on the grill, I would wait in line for a new, well-executed Buick coupe. Bonus: newly-found American car reliability!
It might have taken GM until 1963 to match the 1958 Thunderbird, but when they did, man, did they get it right.
What a beautiful design.
Although I personally prefer the 63 GP over the Riv., it is a very very close call. One thing about the Riviera is that I feel it could have easily been introduced as a1973 Model and looked just as contemporary as the colonnade cars. To me anyway, it is a very timeless design and doesn’t scream 1963 to me, it just says class and a perfect size for a classy/sporty/elegant large 2 door couple. Something I think GM needs to bring back.