Introduced during the 1961 model year, the Oldsmobile Starfire was a flashy, well-equipped sporty version of the full-size Olds 88. It survived through 1966, but by the end, changing buyer tastes — and the intriguing new FWD Toronado — had made the big Starfire all but irrelevant.
The problem with sequels is that they always run out of steam sooner or later. Even if the early installments were brilliant, the later ones eventually succumb to diminishing returns, their original spark dampened by too much repetition and too many compromises. If the original was no great shakes (like any number of mediocre horror and action franchises), the later iterations can get pretty threadbare.
Oldsmobile’s sporty full-size Starfire hadn’t been a huge hit to begin with. In its best year, 1962, it sold a decent 41,988 units, but it was downhill after that. The Starfire was good enough to cash in on the early ’60s bucket seat craze, but since it was just a well-trimmed Olds 88 with lots of standard equipment, it didn’t really make it in the emerging personal luxury segment against the Ford Thunderbird and later the Buick Riviera, which were specialty cars with unique styling.
For 1966, Oldsmobile finally got its own personal luxury specialty car: the all-new Toronado, with its ’30s Cord-inspired styling and novel FWD powertrain. Its body shell was shared with the latest Buick Riviera, but the Toronado had enough distinction to stand apart from both its Buick cousin and the rest of the Oldsmobile line. It belatedly gave Oldsmobile a credible Thunderbird-fighter, allowing the B-body Starfire to quietly fade away.
Yet, here was the 1966 Starfire, back again like a warm-up act returning for an unexpected encore. The reasons are now obscure: Did Oldsmobile general manager Harold Metzel retain the Starfire as a hedge in case buyers proved resistant to the FWD Toronado? Or did he determine that Olds needed at least two years of production to pay off the tooling investment in the coupe’s special hardtop roofline? Maybe both, but I don’t think the continuation was driven by overwhelming market demand. Since the introduction of the Mustang and the sporty intermediates, interest in big cars with bucket seats had softened considerably.
Despite weak demand, some of the remaining full-size sporty models were quite appealing, like the handsome 1966 Buick Wildcat GS featured previously on Curbside Classic. The 1966 Starfire was not, in my view, one of the Oldsmobile studio’s better efforts. It was much the same formula as before — special metal side trim (with simulated vents in the front fenders) plus a unique hardtop roof with concave backlight — but the detailing felt half-hearted, like the designers weren’t told until the last minute that the Starfire was going to continue for 1966 and had to scramble to come up with something.
I’m sure as I type this that there will be at least one commenter who thinks this Starfire is the most beautiful car they’ve ever seen, but I think it was hampered badly by its concave rear window. The curved back glass and sloping sail panels had the effect of making the tail look unfashionably long and not particularly graceful. In some respects, it was a preview of things to come (the designers of the 1969–1970 Mercury Marauder apparently studied it closely and tried to go it one better), but I don’t think it worked very well on its own terms.
The unique Starfire taillight treatment didn’t really help. Different grilles and taillights have always been a common strategy for differentiating different models sharing the same body, since they don’t cost much to tool, but on this Starfire, it felt like added texture for the sake of texture, and it looked cluttered.
In sum, I think the Starfire was less attractive than the normal Delta 88 two-door hardtop, which had a more cohesive design theme.
The paint on this particular Delta 88 is somewhat the worse for wear, but you can see how the semi-fastback roof helped to balance the length of the tail.
Early Starfires had been very well-equipped — especially the convertible, which came with most everything that was optional on other Oldsmobile models except air conditioning. When 1963 sales showed a substantial decline, Oldsmobile hedged, adding a cheaper version of the Starfire coupe called Jetstar I, which moved much of the Starfire’s standard equipment to the options list. This may have been appreciated by customers in states that base vehicle taxes on original base MSRP, but while the Jetstar I outsold the Starfire coupe for 1964, its moment in the sun was very brief. For 1965, Jetstar I production totaled only 6,552 cars, plus 13,024 Starfire coupes and 2,236 Starfire convertibles.
Somehow, what Oldsmobile product planners took from all that was that they should make the Starfire cheaper, which is what they did for 1966. Since the Toronado would never offer a factory convertible, retaining the ragtop Starfire might have made some sense, but its 1965 sales apparently didn’t justify that, so only the Starfire coupe made the cut. The Jetstar I was also dropped, but only because the Starfire was de-contented to about the same level. In fact, with a base price of $3,564, the 1966 Starfire was $38 cheaper than the 1965 Jetstar I, and $584 cheaper than the 1965 Starfire coupe.
Dual exhausts, wheel covers, an electric clock, a glove box light, and windshield washers were still standard on the 1966 Starfire, as was the slightly more powerful L75 Starfire V-8, which had 10 gross hp more than the 425 cid Super Rocket V-8 in the Delta 88. The L75 was optional on the Delta 88 for an extra $100.05, which also included the Starfire’s dual exhausts. (This car now sports a modern HEI system, although an original distributor was included in the trunk when it was sold.)
Although the tachometer was included on all console-equipped Starfires, the shift lever in that console now controlled an all-synchro 3-speed manual transmission unless you ordered the optional 4-speed ($226.44) or Turbo Hydra-Matic ($236.97). Nearly all of these cars got Turbo Hydra-Matic; I found conflicting figures for 4-speed Starfire production, but it was fewer than 200 cars. Interestingly, you could also order the 4-speed on a Dynamic 88 or Delta 88 this year, although few people did so — Oldsmobile reported that only 0.1 percent of its full-size cars had the M20 4-speed option.
Strato Bucket seats were still standard on the Starfire, although they were only available with vinyl upholstery — the leather seating surfaces of the early Starfires were long gone, dropped after 1964.
Bizarrely, you could now order the Starfire with an all-vinyl Strato Bench seat rather than buckets. This was a no-cost option, although it really should have been a credit, since it required you to sacrifice the sports console, floor shifter, and tachometer as well as the buckets. For cars this size, the buckets-and-console fad had largely run its course, but if you really wanted a bench seat with column shift, you could save yourself over $200 by just buying a Delta 88 instead.
As was customary for these Detroit sporty cars, the Starfire had the usual Oldsmobile instrument panel, mounting the speedometer in the center of a V-shaped surround with the fuel gauge and clock mounted symmetrically on either side. Except the tachometer, which was too low and too far forward to easily see, there were no other instruments.
There’s a signal-seeking AM radio with a power antenna (plus a modern radio-CD system hidden in the glove box), but no air conditioning.
It also lacks the optional power windows. Note that unlike the Toronado, the Olds B-body cars retained their front vent windows in 1966; this was probably for the best, since GM’s early attempts at flow-through ventilation left a lot to be desired.
Although the Starfire normally came with its own wheel discs, the simulated wire wheels were a $52.66 option; whitewalls added a further $39.92. (This car of course now wears modern radials rather than the original 8.25-14 bias-ply tires.)
I’ve never seen a contemporary road test of the final Starfire. The Toronado was a much bigger engineering story, and the enthusiast magazines were also interested in the new L69 Tri-Carb engine optional in the 4-4-2, so there wasn’t much journalistic interest in an underwhelming B-body hardtop that had “lame duck” written all over it. With 65 more gross horsepower than a Dynamic 88, plus the benefits of dual exhausts, the Starfire didn’t lack for straight-line performance, though — I would expect 0 to 60 mph in around 8 seconds with the 3.08 axle (standard with Turbo Hydra-Matic), a bit quicker with the optional 3.42 performance axle.
Nevertheless, I find it hard to get very excited about this Starfire. One of the factors that tends to drag down the later installments of long-running movie franchises is that their budgets get slashed to maintain some profit margin with diminishing box office. Even with buckets, the 1966 Starfire was so de-contented that it was practically direct-to-video, with little of the shiny Space Age glamour of its predecessors. It seems like a token effort, executed without much enthusiasm.
Other than the exterior styling touches, the only things the last Starfire offered that you couldn’t get on a Delta 88 were the buckets and console, which just weren’t enough. Oldsmobile built 13,019 of these cars for 1966, so the last Starfire wasn’t a complete sales disaster, but as I look at it now, the thought that keeps recurring is, “Why didn’t Oldsmobile just make buckets optional on the Delta 88?”
Olds product planners had clearly thought the same thing: For 1967, the Starfire was finally dropped, and its Strato Buckets and sports console became a no-cost option for the Delta 88 Custom Holiday Coupe. The L75 Starfire engine and dual exhausts were not included, but they were still available for $100.05 extra.
The Delta 88 Custom two-door hardtop even got Starfire-like metal side trim with simulated front fender vents, so if you checked the right boxes on the order form, it was essentially a Starfire in all but name. Its sales were no better — 1967 production totaled 12,192 cars — but since it shared the same hardtop body as the cheaper Delmont 88 and “plain” Delta 88, it cost less to offer.
Like so many older properties, the Starfire later got a dubious reboot: In the mid-1970s, Oldsmobile applied the name to its H-body coupe. It wasn’t a big success either, but it lasted through 1980. Had Oldsmobile survived longer, the Starfire name would probably have gotten yet another go-around, although the thought of seeing that admittedly cool-sounding nameplate on the side of a crossover or SUV makes me feel kinder towards the 1966 car, even if it didn’t live up to the standard of its predecessors.
Related Reading
Vintage Car Life Road Test: 1964 Oldsmobile Jetstar I – A Loaded Stripper (by Paul N)
Cohort Classic: 1964 Oldsmobile Starfire – Mission Aborted (by Paul N)
1964 Oldsmobile Starfire Convertible: Tempted By A Forgotten Rocket (by Aaron65)
Car Show Classic: 1965 Oldsmobile Starfire Convertible – New Engine, New Body, Old Idea (by Aaron65)
Our 1965 Oldsmobile Starfire 425 – Rocket Action (by DougD)
Curbside Classic: 1966 Oldsmobile Toronado – Personal Luxury, Oldsmobile Style (by J P Cavanaugh)
Nice looking car and the rear window appeals to me. The thing that bothers me the most are the 14 inch tires.
That rear window, also identical to those of both the Grand Prix and Wildcat, separated the men from the boys. So, it made the trunk look longer. A longer than usual trunk is more noticable now that we’re surrounded by blimps on wheels than when it was normal to be surrounded with long trunkers generally.
There were 15 inchers that would fit. I went out and fetched a set for mine, which was almost identical to this featured one, and had radials mounted.
Mine was originally lipstick red like our featured Starfire also. But was repainted sometime before I bought it off a co-worker’s sister for $75, because of coolant loss. I don’t remember it having a white steering column and wheel, however. The seats were slippery as leather. If these weren’t leather, then they were good imitations. I still can’t imagine a non-availability of leather on a car of this caliber.
It was messy, until I cleaned out all of the trash that went with it. At that point, it became evident on how special this car was. Being only 19 at the time, I approached ownership of this classic totally opposite of how I would today. Case in point, I didn’t bother checking to see if a freeze plug popped or rotted through. I went and got a replacement engine from a T-boned ’67 98 at Holbrook Auto Parts on 6 Mile Road in Detroit, across the street from Highland Park. I don’t think it had the Starfire engine. I remeber it’s air cleaner printed “Ultra-high compression”. Nothing more.
It was still immensely torquey, hooked up to my Starfire’s original dual exhaust. I kept the resonators and swapped out the mufflers for glasspacks which amplified its already stock ballsy rumble. Flipping over the air cleaner’s lid while both the Quadrajet and exhaust were satisfying my andrenalin rush got my license eventually revoked.
The later ’66 and ’67 425s had updated heads. I didn’t think to salvage the original block’s innards, before outright scrapping it.
Positraction and rear sway bar were there.
I eventually neglected keeping its oil filled. As I was driving home on the I-75, the oil idiot light would illuminate around curves, until it threw a rod through the side of the block. You couldn’t run these below a quart too low. Having attended refrigeration school, I didn’t have time to deal with it. So, I found a garage again in Detroit, just across from Dearborn for $5 a month from a junkie-like looking but still friendly young woman. She eventually either moved or got evicted. So, both the house and garage were boarded up, when I went to pay my rent. A neighbor came out and informed me on whose wrecker towed it away. It was towed by a junkyard of whom I went and visited, asking where it was. The proprietor came up to the counter wearing a long revolver like in a western film, boldly claiming that it wasn’t there. Of course, I was denied access to the yard for confirming this claim. A police report amounted to nothing. But, the title might still be at my parent’s house. I really doubt that it was rescued from the crusher. The junk yard’s proprietor didn’t otherwise look that smart for saving it. Now that a trace is possible, I’ll have to get my sister to find the title, if my deceased parents didn’t throw it away
Every time I see a 1966 Toronado I’m reminded what a beautiful car it was. Not a bad line on it. Then, for the sake of stupid yearly model differentiation, it was slowly ruined, year by year. Bill Mitchell should have threatened to break the fingers of any designer who wanted to “improve” on the perfect 1966.
That’s the personal imprisonment designers are forced to deal with. The manufacturer demands differentiation between model years. So, a perfect otherwise timeless design has to get compromized somewhere. This was evident with both the Tri-Five Chevrolets and AMC AMX/Javelin. The Tri-Fives, of couse, never having been timeless designs
The back window looks like the same piece of glass that was used in the Pontiac Grand Prix.
I think it is. If I’m reading the Hollander manual correctly, the GP and Starfire back glass is interchangeable.
That’s a long rear overhang, from the photo angle.
I was thinking the same thing. Crazy long overhang.
Looks fine to me.
yes, the 1966 Starfire is one of the most beautiful cars of all time.
That red Olds is one ugly car. For me, Olds either hit it out of the park or they took a dump. This one is a dump.
Oldsmobile and Pontiac suffered from a short attention span in the 1960s. There were always at least five mutations of the B-body (Dynamic 88, Jetstar, Starfire, Delmont 88, Delta 88) with nary a difference to slip a piece of paper between them. Although the brushed chrome trim was tasteful, I was always jazzed by the special taillights and exhaust exits through the rear fenders.
This is a cool car, but the rear treatment is totally out of place. It kind of reminds me of a huge duck bill. I assume Oldsmobile wanted a unique look for the Starfire. They sure got it!
When I was a kid I had a little diecast light blue metallic Oldsmobile Starfire (1965 or ’66) model the size of a Matchbox car made by a company called “Husky”. Husky cars usually had cheaper plastic chassis while Matchbox had a metal chassis. I bought it at Woolworth’s for 39 cents. (Matchbox cars cost 55 cents and Hot Wheels cars were only an idea in Eliot Handler’s mind).
It was a 1965 Starfire. I had one, along with a 1962 Ford Thunderbird convertible from Husky. (Husky was Corgi’s direct competitor for Matchbox cars).
The long deck of the Starfire looks very awkward on the Husky diecast version.
It could be interesting to wonder what if Oldsmobile used the Starfire nameplate for their FWD E-body instead of the Toronado monicker or being used as a model variant of the Cutlass/F-85 line-up?
I don’t think they contemplated that, but a lot of contemporary journalists assumed that the Toronado would be called the Oldsmobile Holiday, following the same pattern as the Riviera.
Just looking at the details and even the name itself the Starfire seems a bit stuck in 1958. The Wildcat is a remarkably appealing car brought down primarily by the market it chasing being attracted to smaller intermediates, but it had the looks of them, and it wasn’t overdecorated. This Olds looks like an OLDs, there’s nothing particularly sporty about its core design and the best you can say is it looks kind of like the 66 Cutlass of that year which I’m also none to fond of.
I’m not as critical of the roofline, I think it’s probably a better part of it to be honest, but it’s subtle, which is to say entirely too plain for a car that already fails to make any visual meaningful visual statement. The 67 fastback delta 88 is more slick, yet I find it slightly grotesque and whale like compared to this. I guess I really just don’t care for Oldsmobile styling from the 65-67 period(minus the Toronado). The 68 Cutlass coupes were the first step in the Toro inspired direction that made the brand a contender later on.
Was the ‘Starfire’ name originally borrowed from the Lockheed F-94? Tthe name was originally used on a concept car in the early 50’s, just about the time the F-94 went into service. Anyway, I know the styling is off a bit but I like the ’66 Starfire and its unique roof. The long tail cue was prevelt throughout the Olds line at the time, and even the ’66-’67 Cutlass featured the look.
Yup!
I’ll never cease to wonder why the 4-4-2 badge was chosen. For potential muscle car purchasers, this insider code seemed confusing, at first. G.T.O., as a badge, was more obvious to those with at least a minimum of common knowledge. It then wasn’t surprising that Pontiac sold their intermediate muscle cars manifold over Oldsmobile’s.
They could have named the 4-4-2 a Starfighter instead, reminiscend of the Air Force’s hotrod Lockheed F-104 which was and maybe still is the fastest vertical climbing jet
When did Oldsmobile finally fix their scary, fade-prone brakes?
Even here in flat land, no-hills New Orleans several almost panic stops on congested Interstate 10 traffic revealed this curse of all the early/mid 1960’s Olds cars. Similar year Buick models had MUCH better braking performance.
Buick used finned, aluminum brake drums, which made Buick’s brakes among the best drum brakes of that era.
Whenever I see Aaron or Paul’s name on the article I smile to myself, get another cuppa cawfee and settle back in my recliner and look forward to a most informative, logical and well written entry here.
Thanks, men!
The elongated flattened trunk kinda looks like Pinocchio’s nose.