Most style-driven sporty or personal luxury models sell best in their first year and then gradually fade away, but the 1973–1977 Pontiac Grand Prix shone brightest in its final season. In fact, the 1977 Grand Prix proved to be the bestselling GP of all time, and by far the most popular Pontiac of its year.
How many movie stars have successfully remained sex symbols throughout an entire lengthy screen career? A few — Cary Grant and Marlene Dietrich spring to mind — but not many; in Hollywood, today’s hot young ingenue tends to become tomorrow’s crone in distressingly short order. That’s usually been equally true in the auto industry, where even a four- or five-year-old design can end up looking very old indeed. The few cars that threaten to become true immortals, like the Volkswagen Beetle or the original Mini, tend to survive through sui generis quirkiness rather than sex appeal, and the image-driven ones that survive for a decade or more (like the 2nd- and 3rd-gen Camaro and Firebird) usually get quite a bit of work done along the way.
The Colonnade Grand Prix was reasonably successful when it first arrived in 1973, but it was overshadowed by its cheaper Chevrolet Monte Carlo cousin, and the 1973–1974 oil embargo took the wind out of its sales (pun intended). I’m sure the GP was still breaking even in 1975, when it sold a modest 85,608 cars, but it seemed to have moved to the senescent stage of the usual sporty/personal car life cycle, where a familiar model lingers on for a few more years to finish paying off the tooling investment rather than due to any overwhelming demand.
For 1976, Pontiac gave the Grand Prix an unusually well-considered facelift, sharpening rather than dulling the original themes, while also de-contenting the GP enough to trim almost $500 from the base price. This managed to jump start customer interest just when it seemed to be fading away. Grand Prix sales and market share more than doubled, and the GP soon raced past its cheaper LeMans brother, which had outsold it in 1975 (although neither had sold very well in ’75).
The 1976 Grand Prix proved to be SUCH a hit that Pontiac took out an ad in the automotive trade publications to compliment dealers and salespeople on a job well done.
Even so, it was a surprise when Grand Prix sales jumped even more for 1977. The 1977 Grand Prix had a new grille treatment and a new, theoretically more economical 301-cid base engine, but not only was the GP now a five-year-old design whose replacement was already on the way, it was now almost the same size as the latest downsized Pontiac Catalina. Inflation had also pushed the GP’s base price back over $5,100.
Nonetheless, sales climbed by another 60,000 units. Granted, 1977 was an immensely strong year for most of Detroit, but the Grand Prix even picked up some market share in its final season. The same could not be said for its mechanically similar Colonnade LeMans siblings, which were now moribund, so it seems fair to assume people were buying the GP primarily for its looks.
As before, the Grand Prix was offered in three trim levels: base, plush LJ, and sporty SJ. There were four engine choices, all V-8s. Standard on base and LJ (except in California and high-altitude areas) was the new 301, with 135 hp. A four-barrel 350 with 170 hp was a $90 option; depending on when a given car was built and where it was bound, it might be a Pontiac, Oldsmobile, or Chevrolet V-8.
Standard on the SJ and optional on the others was the Pontiac 400-4V, with 180 hp. A modest number (8,163 cars) instead got the Oldsmobile 403, with 185 hp. The previously optional 455 was gone for good.
Turbo Hydra-Matic was still the sole transmission with any engine.
Nearly half of all 1977 Grand Prix buyers took the standard 301 engine, which offered adequate but not very sporting performance and 16 mpg economy. The 350s and 400/403 were a bit brisker, but with air conditioning (which almost 95 percent of these cars had) and a heavy load of options, the Grand Prix was still a 4,300 lb car, and the days when it was what Car Life had once called a “tiger in tuxedo” were long past.
The SJ featured the Rally Radial Tuned Suspension, which was a bit firmer than the standard Radial Tuned Suspension, with front and rear anti-roll bars, quicker-ratio steering, and G70R-15 tires on Rally II styled wheels. These pieces were also optional on an à la carte basis on other models.
However, these cars were really about style rather than performance, and I think a lot of Grand Prix buyers were happy enough with the cushy standard suspension.
Just under half of these cars had bucket seats and a center console, which were optional on the base Grand Prix and standard on the SJ in 1977.
The LJ also came with buckets, albeit usually a flatter style with Lombardy velour rather than Doeskin vinyl upholstery. Many LJ buyers preferred the optional 60/40 split bench seat.
Rally gauges were standard on the SJ and optional elsewhere. A tachometer was available, but doesn’t appear to have been frequently specified.
One cost-cutting move was that the rosewood applique on the dash, door panels, and center console was no longer real wood veneer, as it had been back in 1973. However, real leather upholstery was optional on the LJ and SJ, in black or buckskin.
There were a few awkward touches that betrayed the age of this platform, like the tacked-on control wand for the optional remote right-side mirror.
Still, the Grand Prix was an attractive car inside and out, with a richer, classier interior than a Monte Carlo.
This was the late ’70s, so nearly two-thirds (66.3 percent) of 1977 Grand Prix production had padded vinyl roofs. A Cordova full-length vinyl top was a $121 option, but the Landau half-roof, which seems to have been more common, was an outrageous $180.
Although the domestic convertible had recently been pronounced dead, Detroit was working overtime to find substitutes. The Grand Prix had offered sliding sunroofs for a while by this time, and the 1977 offered both steel and pricier glass sunroof options.
The 1976 car had also introduced a new choice: the Hurst-built “hatch roof” with removable T-top panels, which remained available in 1977.
I wasn’t able to find 1977 production figures for the hatch roof option, but it was relatively rare, probably because it listed for a hefty $625.
Consumer-oriented publications like Consumer Reports and Consumer Guide had no great love of these cars, which were big on the outside and not on the inside. Rear-seat passengers didn’t fare much worse than front-seaters for headroom, but legroom and hip room were tight, and entry or exit was cumbersome. In our age of mandatory child seats, this would be a real liability for buyers with kids — a major reason coupes like this fell on hard times in later years — but by ’70s standards, the Grand Prix was adequate for preteens, or for occasional carriage of limber friends whose backs and hips had not yet begun to chronically ache. It was also better than a Firebird or Camaro.
Trunk space was nonetheless mediocre for a car this size. You were paying for style rather than utility.
Judging by the sales figures, buyers simply didn’t care. The GP wasn’t the bestselling 1977 Colonnade coupe — the Oldsmobile Cutlass Supreme and Chevrolet Monte Carlo sold better still — but with 288,430 model year sales, the Grand Prix was by far the top-selling 1977 Pontiac, accounting for almost one-third of the division’s total volume. In sales and market share, the Grand Prix surpassed all of AMC. This GP was an exceptionally successful car by any standards, especially for a style-driven model in what would have normally been the twilight of its life.
I don’t have any demographic information on the median age of typical Grand Prix buyers, but in 1977, there were many millions of Baby Boomers under 30, so it’s not difficult to draw the inference. The Colonnade Grand Prix was the kind of car that makes perfect sense when you’re about 25: when the cares of the world (and there were a lot of those in the late ’70s) still bounce off you more often than not; when your kids, if you have them, are still small; and when a good-looking date-night car with a bitchin’ stereo still matters more than a couple inches of rear legroom or a few more miles per gallon.
The Grand Prix wasn’t very practical or especially cheap (the sticker price of a fully loaded example with CB radio and hatch roof or sunroof could top $9,000, the equivalent of about $55,000 in 2026), but that wasn’t the point. Buying a car like this was making a financial commitment to another couple of years of being cool. Yeah, you’d probably eventually have to buy a station wagon, or some other, more sensible car that carried more stuff and got better gas mileage, but that was later. For now, it was still life in the fast lane, with the T-tops off and the 8-track blasting out the Eagles, Rose Royce, or maybe the theme from Rocky.
I think it’s that trying to recapture that feeling, more than any specific qualities of the cars themselves, that still drives interest in these GPs today. Other than looks, they weren’t really outstanding in any tangible way, and for most of us, their shortcomings would probably be harder to live with now than they seemed back then. However, cars like the Grand Prix evoke the feeling of being young enough and flexible enough that not every choice always has to be the most practical one — when staying out all night didn’t mean paying for it for the rest of the week, and when choosing a stylish coupe over a sedan or wagon was no big deal. I don’t know that you can really ever get that back, but it’s fun to imagine sometimes.
Related Reading
1973 Pontiac Grand Prix SJ 455: The Most Desirable Colonnade Grand Prix, In A Soulful Shade of Blue (by me)
Curbside Musings: 1977 Pontiac Grand Prix – Linda (by Joseph Dennis)
Cohort Capsule: 1977 Pontiac Grand Prix — Rock Vs. Disco (by Rich Baron)
I was right in the target demographic for these and really couldn’t consider one because the seat backs didn’t recline. Headroom is important for the driver.
I think Smokey and the Bandit was a big part of the rising tide that lifted the boat of Pontiac sales in 1977.
Doubtless many buyers that year fancied themselves Burt Reynolds, or at least were looking for a car that could land them their own Sally Field “Frog.” More than a few would have found the Firebird to be more compromised and cramped than it appeared on the big screen. The Grand Prix offered similar styling in a more usable package (relatively speaking). You could even get a CB Radio and T-Top, the latter of which I didn’t even realize were available on the GP.
I agree that Smokey and the Bandit definitely helped the Firebird, and quite probably the GP with it, but looking at the sales for the rest of the Pontiac line, there was still a surprising amount of mediocrity. The B-body line picked up some thanks to the downsizing, but it was the weakest of the new Bs (the all-new Catalina still sold fewer than 75K), the LeMans was the weakest of the As, and the Ventura/Phoenix wasn’t lighting the world on fire. So, the rest of the Pontiac line was not noticeably buoyed.
Pontiac ended up selling 911,050 cars, which was really good, but nearly half that was the Grand Prix and Trans Am, and the sales numbers for a lot of the others had me thinking, “Wow, was that even sustainable by itself?”
In the mid-seventies the hot market segment was the mid-size personal luxury coupe. Monte Carlo, Grand Prix, Olds Cutlass Supreme (especially), Ford T-Bird (’77+), Chrysler Cordoba.
The Honda Accord was the first sign of changing consumer sentiment.
My dad (in his mid 30s) had a 75 Monte, 77 Grand Prix, and then a 79 T Bird. Of the three the T bird was the overall best car with the best reliability. I personally liked the more restrained styling of the T bird. They ended up keeping that bird for 8 years which was very unusual for my parents.
What a weirdly shaped trunk. It’s trying to prevent you from loading your cargo in there with its protruding rear beak. Good luck reaching that spare tire.
The corners of the lid at the license plate cutout were brutal on the head.
The economy really bounced back by this time and gas prices had moderated (inflation adjusted) so there was a substantial segment of the market that wanted to experience what an older cohort had lived through in the ’60s, with big, gaudy, emotional-driven cars. I suspect some might have already known that this was coming to an end soon, especially in 1977 with the downsized B/C GM cars and lots of press about how GM was going to downsize all of its cars in the next 2-3 years. Party while you can! And the rather gaudy GP certainly was a party animal.
It really represents the end point of the old Detroit/GM. Ford would carry on for a couple of years yet, but the end was obviously in sight.
Still the one I miss the most, my 77 LJ in Burma Brown with Buckskin roof and interior. Only a 301 with no gauge package but it did have buckets, power windows and air. A tattered old girl, i drove and enjoyed her from 1984 to 1986.
Thank you for bringing back the memory.
I have a theory.
In 1977, the new GM B- and C-bodies had been introduced, and folks probably knew that the A/A-Special cars would be replaced for 1978.
While there were plenty of folks (myself included) that appreciated the downsized models, the car-buying market still included lots of members of The Greatest Generation, and early Baby Boomers, who still wanted to buy cars full of gingerbread, faux luxury, and pillow-soft ride and interiors.
My theory suggests that those folks saw the writing on the wall and thought “Uh oh, the kinds of cars I like are going away. I’d better get a Grand Prix (or Monte Carlo, or Cutlass Supreme) before I can no longer buy the kind of car I want to drive!”
It’s just a theory, roast it if you want to.
Thing is, you could get that pillow-soft ride, Brougham gingerbread, and luxury (real and faux) on the now-same-size B bodies in 1977, and in doing so have a car that couldn’t be mistaken for a ’73 model. I’m guessing higher prices of the B/C bodies may have played a role, and the cars were boxier and may have been perceived as less stylish (until you stepped inside). I was expecting the downsized GM big cars to outsell the Colonades in their last year, which didn’t seem to happen, at least not at Pontiac and Olds.
The 77′ sj my first new car..
White and maroon half Landau.
400 hp…test model that was not supposed to be sold off showroom floor. 25 mpg….loved it alot!
That all white with the tan interior is so nice. My favorite.
Nautilus blue one for me please.
Some cars capture an era, and some cars also capture a specific time in our lives. Those are the ones that become special, and years later collectors will be looking for those models to reminisce, and try to relive those Glory Days. I really miss cars like the Grand Prix, personal luxury cars that were all about style. Currently there are modern versions of the Pony cars and even muscle cars like the Charger, but there isn’t any replacement for those PLCs. A fancy truck or SUV is nice, but it’s not the same.
This morning I took my ’46 Plymouth to a Cars and Coffee. As I was about to leave, a guy bit older than me (mid to later ’70’s) came up to me to talk about my car. He told me that his first car was the same model Plymouth. He’d been waiting for me to come back to the car. We talked for about half an hour and I could see that look in his eyes and on his face. This car brought those memories back to life. He was a car guy, he’d parked his Holden SS behind my car. I had spoken to him last year, he also has a beautiful green ’36 Ford Hot Rod coupe. I remembered the car, but not him. But my old Plymouth grabbed his attention in a way that those cars didn’t, it was all about the memories.
I’m really glad when I can have conversations like that. I’m not that sentimental about cars myself, but yesterday I took my “new” Sportster out for a short ride, and I’m sure that I had that same look on my face!
You’ve nicely captured the essence of the 70s personal luxury coupes with the words of your first paragraph. When I was able to drive at age 20 my mom’s new ’73 Monte Carlo, I felt like a million dollars. None of the cars I would own myself later in life ever had the swagger of that car!
They may have been the BEST SELLING Grand Prix, but hands down, the 69-70 GP was the BEST in style and performance!! The 62-63 SD does not count, due to its scant production.
Sure like that blue one! Never guessed the trunk was so small.
Agree on that, although I won’t kick a ’68 out of my garage. The ugly 5-mph bumpers didn’t help the looks any on the 1973-’77 GP’s.
I didn’t see anyone mention it so I will – when square headlamps became legal, the Big 3 (really most of the US car market was the Big 3) immediately restyled their cars (they knew in advance) to have square headlamps. Anything with round headlamps looked dated, old-fashioned – square was in!
I remember seeing the first cars with square headlamps – they stood out in traffic, especially at night. A sea of round headlamps and then – a few square ones. Hard to compare to today. Maybe when HID headlamps came out, or when composite headlamps were finally approved here, the aero look made any sealed beam look ancient.
The last big GP made the most of it to really reinvent it’s face. A neighbor had a two-tone silver grey GP of this era, with t-tops of course. He actually almost ran me over when I was riding my bike on the sidewalk and he didn’t see me until the last second. No backup cameras then.