This well-preserved example of the second generation of Oldsmobile’s big front-wheel-drive luxury coupe is an unusual car: a lightly equipped base-model Toronado that had only 92 miles when it sold in January 2026, still looking very much like it must have looked when it first rolled off the line in Lansing more than 50 years ago.
Offered from 1971 through 1978, the second-generation Oldsmobile Toronado has never gotten even half the respect accorded its groundbreaking 1966–1970 predecessor, which was the first American production car since the 1930s with front-wheel drive. Although the first-generation Toronado is still widely acclaimed as a landmark automobile, from Oldsmobile’s perspective, it was an interesting technical exercise that didn’t really pan out commercially.
The late John Beltz, who oversaw the development of the Toronado as an Oldsmobile engineer and later became Olds general manager, told Car and Driver in February 1971:
I think that, from the standpoint of Mr. Average American, the Toronado—as it first came out—was quite aggressively advanced in styling. An uncompromising design. It was a real ‘love me or leave me’ kind of a thing. And for a lot of people it was too aggressive.
I’m not sure anyone outside the cloistered bubble of General Motors would have described the original Toronado as “too aggressive,” but its fastback design, full of homages to the 1930s Cord 810/812, had been out of step with the styling trends of late ’60s luxury cars. It was way too big to be a convincing sporty coupe, but it was too sporty at a time when the most fashionable big personal luxury cars were increasingly formal and fancy.
In subsequent years, Oldsmobile did its best to downplay the fastback shape, which was abandoned completely for the all-new 1971 Toronado in favor of a notchback design that looked an awful lot like the outgoing Cadillac Eldorado. This was considerably more commercially successful: Oldsmobile sold 133,801 of the second-generation model in the first three years alone, almost as many cars as the original Toronado had sold in five years. That was probably more because it looked like the significantly more expensive Cadillac than due to any specific virtue of the Toronado itself, but that was fine with Oldsmobile.
In his conversation with Car and Driver, Beltz explained the rationale of the second-generation Toronado like this:
Obviously this new car was designed to appeal to a particular kind of buyer. He’s younger than the other owners of our full-size line of cars, and he’s better educated. The level of college is much higher among Toronado owners. He’s the most affluent of Oldsmobile owners, with an income of $25,000 and above.
But there’s a lot more to the Toronado buyer than education and income: He’s a guy who has made it—and knows that he has. Basically, he’s not buying a car to prove anything, because he has already proven it.
So we look at it this way: Appearance is important, but the mechanical aspects and quality aspects in a car for this kind of buyer are even more important. But first the car has to at least look like what it is and look somewhat unique. Not freaky, but unique. The other thing is that price isn’t an essential consideration to him, so you have to stay away from cost compromises.
In the Toronado, we have one car that allows us to do what we want in both design and manufacturing methods.
This was an interesting argument considering that the Toronado, especially in standard form, was a surprisingly plain car.
As a big fan of the first-generation Eldorado, I find the exterior styling of the second-generation Toronado pleasant, if obviously derivative. I know some people are not so fond of it, but I don’t think I’ve ever heard anyone argue that there was anything very wrong with it other than being too bland. Considering the over-the-top flamboyance of this era’s more popular personal luxury cars, Oldsmobile deciding to play it safe wasn’t a terrible thing. However, people didn’t buy cars like this because they were reluctant to stand out in a crowd, and the second-generation Toronado didn’t have a strong identity of its own if you weren’t moved by (or didn’t recognize) the Eldorado resemblance.
The interior was no more exciting than the exterior. Again, there was nothing really wrong with it, but the new-for-1974 dashboard was identical to the one in the latest Ninety-Eight — it even shared the same Tiffany clock as the Ninety-Eight Regency — and the upholstery and carpeting of the base Toronado weren’t as fancy as you’d expect in a car like this.
Admittedly, this green Toronado is a base Custom model — seven out of ten 1974 Toronado buyers paid the extra $154 for the Toronado Brougham, which had plusher velour upholstery with a different cushion style.
However, the base car definitely fell short of the indulgent plushness of the somewhat cheaper Ninety-Eight Regency Coupe.
The buff books were so much more ambivalent about the second-generation Toronado than the original that several novel technical features went largely unremarked. At the time, I think the high-mounted brake lights — which you can see just below the rear window, on either side of the trunk hump — were seen mainly as a styling gimmick, like the Thunderbird’s sequential taillights, but they were similar in concept to the high-mounted stoplight required on new cars since the mid-1980s.
An important feature that seemed to get very little attention either from the automotive press or in Oldsmobile advertising was the JL9 True Track rear-wheel anti-lock braking system. True Track really should have been standard (Lincoln-Mercury had standardized its similar Kelsey-Hayes Sure Track system on the Mark III and Mark IV, which arguably needed it less), but the $192 option combated the nose-heavy Toronado’s tendency to abruptly lock its rear wheels in a panic stop. During 1974, the Toronado also became available with the world’s first dual airbag passive restraint system — the $225 GM Air Cushion Restraint System — although the option was poorly marketed and very rare.
The green Toronado doesn’t have either feature, and for a car like this, its equipment is remarkably sparse. It does have air conditioning (fewer than 100 ’74 cars went without), but it’s the cheaper Four-Seasons manual unit rather than Comfortron automatic temperature control.
The radio looks to be the cheapest AM model, not the AM/FM or fancier AM/FM stereo sets.
While this Toronado has tinted glass, it has wind-up windows, which was rather remarkable. Although power windows were still optional on the Toronado, more than 98 percent of buyers ordered them, and 96 percent ordered a power seat, which this car doesn’t have either. It also lacks cruise control and power locks. People tended to order these big personal luxury cars loaded, so finding one this lightly equipped is definitely unusual.
Even in this form, the Toronado was still a fairly expensive car. The base price of the base model was $5,759.60 in 1974, and the options this car does have added up to more than $700 — figure an MSRP of at least $6,500, although I imagine handsome dealer discounts were available during the oil embargo, which arrived right after the start of the 1974 model year. The Toronado weighed about 5,000 lb, with a 455-cid V-8 whose EPA rating was a grim 8.3 mpg, so it was expensive to feed.
John Beltz died of cancer on May 14, 1972, at the age of 46, but the 1971–1978 Toronado was still his baby, almost as much as the first generation had been. Looking at this car, I pondered his remarks to C/D about avoiding “cost compromises” and how it was fun “not to worry about nickles and dimes” in designing it. “If you like cars, you want to get things right,” he remarked. “These are the things where we’re uncompromising.”
Yet, looking at this green Toronado, all I can see is compromise. With such minimal options, this is as close as you’re likely to get to the basic Toronado package, which was a big, fairly anonymous two-door hardtop coupe with pleasant but unmemorable good looks and an interior whose luxury didn’t compare all that favorably to the fancier members of the regular Olds line. A lot of the high price of the Toronado was surely still going to the engineering tour-de-force under the hood, but Oldsmobile had gone to great pains to make all that engineering imperceptible beyond the lack of a central driveshaft tunnel. The Toronado did have better wet-weather traction than most RWD cars, but the well-educated, affluent buyers Olds hoped to attract were paying a premium for mostly nominal benefits. Some buyers didn’t know this car was FWD, and those that did kept wishing Oldsmobile would also offer it in other, more practical models.
Nonetheless, these cars did develop (and to some extent still have) a following, and what Beltz told Car and Driver about the Toronado was on target in one important respect: “Right now, you go out and try to buy one and they’re hard to find and expensive when you do find one,” Beltz said. “People take care of them, and when you find one, it’s beautiful—not just a rusty old crock.”
Toronado owners do seem to take good care of these cars, but it would be hard to envision a ’70s Toronado closer to original showroom condition than this Balsam Green ’74. It came out of an estate collection, where it had been in climate-controlled storage for years, probably since its original purchase. The car had only 85 miles on the odometer when it sold for $24,200 at Mecum Kissimmee in January 2025. The purchaser tried to flip it that July, but the reserve wasn’t met, so they held out until the next Kissimmee event in January 2026, when the Toronado sold for $40,700, still with just 92 miles on the clock.
With such low mileage, I don’t see much driving in its future, but maybe it’ll find its way into a museum, where its time capsule preservation can be more widely appreciated, compromises and all.
Related Reading
Curbside Classic: 1972 Oldsmobile Toronado – A Brougham For Winter (by Joseph Dennis)
Vintage Review: 1972 Oldsmobile Toronado – Imitating Eldo (by GN)
Curbside Classic: 1972 Oldsmobile Toronado – Reading The Tea Leaves Near Stage Left (by Jason Shafer)
I was under the impression that ALL second gen Tornadoes came with power windows. I had to rub my eyes to make sure I was seeing cranks. I see only 500 or fewer were made with manuals. Very interesting info on this beautiful car as I am a fan of the 71-74 years. Great article as always. Thank you
To my eyes it looks less like an older Eldorado and more like a giant ’78 Cutlass, or maybe a ’76-77 Cutlass depending on which part of the car you’re looking at. That plus still a Cord homage with the coffin-like grille, a reference that may have been lost on most Toronado prospects.
I’ve long suspected GM intentionally didn’t promote the dual front air bags, as they didn’t want them becoming mandatory – they could then say “we offered them at a reasonable price and hardly anyone bought them”. I’ll acknowledge I have no evidence of this beyond little mention of them in brochures and advertisements though.
Aaron I’m surprised you didn’t show the concept which led to this gen 2 design. They were definitely going all in on the Cord fwd relationship.
Wow! Weird and not attractive. I wonder how many ’70s Toronado shoppers had ever heard of the Cord, and knew what one looked like. It reminds me of the bustleback Cadillac Seville which was supposed to be evocative of old Hooper-bodied Rolls-Royces and such, but many potential buyers were unfamiliar with those and rather than charmingly retro, just thought the back of the Seville looked weird.
GM designers called that the “Four-Fendered Farkle.” it was very Cord-like, but other than the grilleless nose, very little of that showed up on the production car, which is basically just a pastiche of the 1969–1970 Eldorado.
I was so convinced that that was AI slop I did my own independent research and it is in fact not… a human drew that… yikes!
Funny enough though I do see some 71-78 Cadillac Eldorado in it
Considering the over-the-top excess of this era, I’m somewhat surprised that they didn’t produce this. It’s no more offensive than a Riv boat-tail IMHO.
I have to say I’ve never cared for the second-gen Toronado, mostly because I like the first-gen so much. This generation, and the third generation, were Dollar General Cadillacs. There wasn’t, to my eyes, much reason to pick the Toro over a 98, or even an 88.
My thoughts exactly. They just look like a poor man’s Cadillac, there isn’t much obvious difference.
I love the aggressiveness of the 66, and maybe a few years later. My next favorite is the 86 (and maybe a few years later). Especially with the crosslace alloys and white letter tires. It had the aggressive image, and also paid some homage to the 66 and Cord with the slatted nose.
Maybe the Dollar General Eldorado ethos is exactly how this strippo Toronado got built. Someone wanted to buy the cheapest possible Eldorado-clone, and here we are.
Seems a little short-sighted in the long run, particularly considering the ultra-low mileage. It’s as if someone realized their folly soon enough and put the car in storage in the hope of a big pay-off someday.
GM was putting some really plain vinyl interiors into some pretty nice cars in those years. I think the base level 98 interiors were not far from this one.
As a kid surrounded by Oldsmobiles, these always had an aura of exclusivity. They were a lot more restrained than the Rivieras. I remember really loving those door handles, one of few GM cars that got unique ones.
Didn’t the ’69-72 Grand Prix use the same door handles?
Excellent point – and proves that I never spent any time close to a GP of that vintage.
With all of John Beltz’ talk about how affluent Toronado buyers were, and how price wasn’t an essential consideration, they stuck buyers by charging $570 (1974 prices) for a simple AM radio. You know that the Toronado buyer isn’t going to tolerate a block-off plate in that dashboard, just make it standard equipment and charge a few bucks more. And $570 is way too much for an AM radio! Which may be why this car has so few other options.
I like the 2nd Gen Toronado styling except for the front. I see the Cord influence but I think it looks ungainly. That big center lump is just wrong. And while the big bumper isn’t helping anything, the lack of a center grille in the 1971-72 models looks even worse in my eyes. And the ’77-’78 has too much grille. Personally, I’d rather have a 1967-70 or a 1971 Eldorado.
All of the senior GM makes charged about $85–$86 for an AM radio, which was around 20 bucks more than you’d pay on an Impala. Charging more for the same options was a pretty typical mid-price and luxury brand strategy.
The principal GM rationale for not standardizing a radio on the pricier models in this period was not that anyone was likely to end up with a radio block-off plate, but that they believed that asking buyers to choose which radio they wanted made it significantly easier for salespeople to steer customers into the fancier stereo systems, which were dramatically more expensive and had much fatter margins. (On a Toronado, the AM/FM stereo 8-track system listed for more than four times the price of the basic AM pushbutton set.) If there was a standard radio, some customers would just stick with that because they didn’t care that much, making it harder to upsell them.
That was the logic, anyway, although Lincoln hadn’t had any problem with upselling the fancier systems after standardizing a radio on the Continental and Continental Mark, nor had Ford with the Thunderbird.
Nice car. Make mine a ’66 with 92 miles on it,thank you.
A very nice example. However, the interior doesn’t look much better than the ’71 Chevrolet Bel Air Sport Coupe covered a few days ago.
I’m more a fan of the third generation Toronado (’79 thru ’85). A unit with a gasoline V8 would be welcomed in my driveway.
A far cry from the styling of the first generation; indeed the second gen lacks distinctiveness in my opinion, even though it is not bad looking.
I do find the words of Beltz surprising as the base model Toronado was certainly compromising in equipment: even though a Thunderbird had a higher starting price, it had a/c , tinted glass and power windows standard.
Having a “stripper” model just to provide a low base price does not seem to fit well with the Toronado’s aspirations
Seems like these oddly optioned or strippo versions of otherwise typically well-euipped cars are the ones found with ultra-low mileage decades later, and I guess it makes sense. Unless they were special ordered, they would have been a hard sell when new, particularly if it was a luxury marque. Maybe someone got a good deal as a leftover, end of the model year ‘loss-leader’ and hoped they could flip it at some point for a handsome profit.
Either way, someone ended up storing it, maybe in the misbegotten idea that the no-option rarity made it valuable.
Very nice car.
Above everything else, what stands out to me is the pic showing the column shift, bench seat and flat floor. Man, you just can’t get that kind of style and comfort in anything today.
Comfort?? I’ve suffered with a non reclining flat bench in my Cheyenne pickup (stick), and the one thing I WISH it had would be the (equally burgundy) OE buckets that were in my first truck (stepside Silverado). The multipower, reclining, supportive seats in my other cars, with adj lumbar and heat, even A/C functions, are about a bajillion times more comfy than a flat bench.
MX5-Racer: As you can see, I didn’t comment on the lack of reclining. Assuming this doesn’t have it of course. So yes, a split bench with recliners is a must. But I was commenting about the comfort a bench seat with a fully open center and flat floor gives you. Unlike EVERYTHING today that shoves your legs and feet into a tunnel with zero option to stretch out or move those legs. Plus, everything today seems to be these overly hard and lumpy seats that push up on the sides of your legs and thighs, making them painful for long drives. And I’m not a big man: 5′ 9″ tall, 180 pounds and well proportioned. In today’s vehicles, I’d hate to be 6′ or taller and 250 pounds or more.
Anyhow, I’ll give you an example of what I’d consider one of the most comfortable seats I’ve ever had the pleasure of sitting on. That would be the 1991 to 1995 Buick Park Avenue Ultra followed by nearly any Buick Park Avenue seats from the 80’s or 90’s.
In my opinion, the second generation Toronado is not nearly as good looking as the first. I realise that the first gen cars were a bit over the top, but they were not that different from the second generation cars. Interesting how the second gen cars sold so much better.
These cars were very rare in Canada. I can’t remember ever seeing one.
A common sight on the prairies. My high school Industrial Arts teacher, Mr. Rychjohn, had one, a white ’74. Interesting guy. Let’s just say he lived up to his name. Went on to become a super-successful property developer in both Canada and the US, and a philanthropist who donated millions to the University of Saskatchewan. Refreshing change from the usual types who infest the education system .
Last time I saw him was just after graduating, and he had just picked up a new ’78 Continental Mark V Diamond Jubilee.
As far as the aesthetic qualities of these cars goes, plant me firmly in the ’66 and ONLY the ’66, Camp. While the ’67 has some has laudable safety upgrades like a collapsible column and dual brake cylinder, along with a disc brake option, the styling was immediately mucked up, with an eggcrate grill that looked nowhere near as good as the ’66, And things just got worse from there.
I drove the Brougham in high school when my grandfather got tired of paying for the gas. The front wheel drive didn’t get much traction but the couches inside made for a mobile living room.
I view these Toronados very similarly as I do the 72-76 Ford Thunderbirds in that they similarly traded in being bold and highly distinct designs prior for being a dressed down discount alternative to the Lincoln Mark IV. From a cold business perspective the 71 was a success to the original comparatively, but going from revolutionary in engineering and design in 1966 to just a not-quite Eldorado for clientele who probably would have just bought a standard big Oldsmobile if it weren’t in the lineup is a pretty weak case for it. Ultimately by the latter half of the 70s the Cutlass Supreme did everything this car did in image for an even better value but without the novel FWD layout that was a feature lost on most Toro buyers anyway.
Of the Toro/Eldo/Riv PLC trio I’ll take the 71-73 Boattail. It’s as out of step with the prevailing winds of formal designs as the first gen Toronado was and that’s exactly what makes it appealing to me. Although I will say I kind of liked the later Toronado XS with the bent glass rear window, at least that was fairly bold.
That said the low miles and condition of this one is remarkable, it belongs in a museum!
Very well said on the 71-73 boat tail
If you want to be really cynical about it, the second-generation Toronado was essentially subsidizing the Eldorado. Whether Oldsmobile really needed the Toronado was arguable, but with the introduction of the Continental Mark, Cadillac definitely needed the Eldorado, and as lucrative as it was, its volume wasn’t what GM considered adequate. Since Buick was still mostly going its own way, the Toronado was crucial to keeping the total production volume of the shared mechanical stuff high enough to let everyone relax and count their money rather than fretting about the overall corporate ROI of the E-car program.
I don’t think most of the contemporary buyers the Toronado was aimed at would have considered a Cutlass Supreme an adequate substitute in terms of prestige (for some people, a Colonnade Cutlass Supreme was still a SMALL car). However, I honestly don’t know to what extent contemporary Oldsmobile buyers regarded a Toronado as more prestigious than a Ninety-Eight Regency. People did regard an Eldorado as more prestigious than a DeVille, but I’m not sure if any one really felt that strongly about the Toronado as a covetable object.
The subsidization of the UPP drivetrain did cross my mind, and funny enough I long held the impression the 68 Eldorado only went to it to subsidize the Toronado. By the 70s with the two cars as well as to lesser extent the GMC motor home using it they were definitely trying to get their moneys worth, as well as finally getting Buick and then the Seville to use it in 79-80
I agree the Cutlass wasn’t a true alternative to the Toronado yet, but by latter half of the 70s post-fuel crisis and downsizing? Eh… I mean what was the dimensional difference really between a 77 Cutlass Supreme and a 79 Toronado? And cs a 98 Regency, I agree I’m sure the Toronado buyer saw it as a cut above, but would they have gone elsewhere besides the Olds dealer if there wasn’t a Toronado?
I’m pretty sure that this car would have to have built as a special order. By keeping all the good stuff as optional equipment, it made it easier for a salesperson to tailor a car for a specific skin flint customer. Some of these buyers were very insistent on keeping the car’s price to a strict amount. Start adding fancy options and the price would soon balloon out of control. That being said, I would be perfectly happy with the car’s equipment level. It has the basics: auto trans, power brakes and steering, and an AM radio. There were still quite a few AM music stations to choose from in my area during the 1970’s.. It even has a/c, and I’ve never been bothered by fiddling with a manual a/c control. Those auto climate control set ups were known to be trouble prone back in the ’60’s. The full wheel covers were standard, but the buyer ordered it with whitewalls as well as a vinyl top. The green color scheme is another added plus in my eyes.
It’s funny, but this Toronado is equipped quite closely to my ’07 F150 XL Work Truck, and I’m happy with that vehicle.
I enjoy the 71/72 version of these pre the larger bumpers. They look unique and special to me, maybe even semi-exotic, whether they’re to everyone’s taste.
What I can’t forgive is the interior of this beast…my father’s measly 74 Catalina with auto temp control and power windows somehow seems better equipped, and the bench material looks comparable (though surely it’s not).
>At the time, I think the high-mounted brake lights — which you can see just below >the rear window, on either side of the trunk hump — were seen mainly as a styling >gimmick….
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Just a guess. Were those high-mounted brake lights simply an attempt to cover up the rear vents that had appeared and quickly disappeared on several GM vehicles?
“People are complaining about the rear vents — water leaks in.”
“Damn! We already cut them in a pre-production body.”
“Let’s put rear brake lights in there?”
“Bonus for that guy!”
Not at all. In this shot of a ’71, you can clearly see that the vents are in a different spot, and the lights were obviously designed-in from the start.
“But there’s a lot more to the Toronado buyer than education and income: He’s a guy who has made it—and knows that he has. Basically, he’s not buying a car to prove anything, because he has already proven it.”
Cough, cough, I am choking on that line.
So the car sells and the new owner promptly tries to flip the car. God, I just hate the vintage car business!
This is admittedly the kind of car that invites that kind of thing: Because its unique value is tied to its ultra-low mileage and original condition, it’s not a car someone is likely to buy to use, so its fate from here on out is probably either being flipped endlessly or becoming part of some kind of museum collection.
1974, interesting, you all can’t imagine how exotic this looks compared to the sort of car available in the U.K at the time, from Reliant Robins to Austin 1300s and as for Morris Marinas…
Less said the better!
Always interesting to see what was happening and compare.
For that 25,000 sale price in 2025 I’d have bought this and made a nice summer driver out of it. I have a hard time making museum pieces out of cars. They’re meant to drive.
Only reason didn’t buy this particular year/model or the Eldo….was the lack of individual seats.
These have the single bench electric seat and the split back allows the seat to tilt forward to allow access to the rear seat.
Problem is for me and many…. you’re driving and decide to swap drivers…. you’re a passenger now and the driver needs to move the seat all the way up….well…. you’re moving ups also! And now your leg.is resting against the dash…cramped.