If you think Renault, assuming that’s something that ever crops up in your mind at all, you usually think small hatchback. Maybe boring saloon, like an Alliance or a Mégane. Out-and-out RWD sports roadster is definitely not in there. And yet, here we are.
I remember when this quirky roadster was launched at the Geneva Motor Show in 1995. Nobody really knew if they were going to actually manufacture it, or if it was just another show car. The thing was that the (by now partially) State-owned carmaker had an impending Alpine-shaped hole to fill in their range: the last A610s, which weren’t exactly a romping sales success, were coming out of Renault Sports’ (ex-Alpine) factory in Dieppe, and something needed to take its place.
Renault decided that their new sporty car would be developed by a new team, headed by Claude Fior and Daniel Charles of Nogaro Technologie for the chassis; Renault’s Benoît Jacob was the lead for the styling. Fior and Charles were specialists in manufacturing training single-seaters for budding race-car drivers, using a lot of Renault’s extensive parts bin to keep costs down.
The same philosophy would be employed for the Spider, even though the chassis itself was 100% new, as far as non-insiders were concerned. In actuality, the Spider’s chassis incorporated plenty of genuine Alpine DNA, as it recycled the A710 prototypes (above), developed in 1989-90 as a smaller Alpine, but ultimately not deemed ready for prime-time.
Gone were the cherished backbone chassis and longitudinal rear-engine layout, replaced by a racing-inspired and modern platform entirely made of aluminium with a transverse mid-engine. Said engine was the same 2-litre 4-cyl. used in the Clio Williams, deemed a better fit for the new car than the V6 the Alpines had been using since the late ’70s.
Upon its launch, the Spider looked a tad surreal sitting next to the Espace or the Clio, like it came from a different planet, or at least a different carmaker. This was even truer because the initial cars had no real windscreen, just a tiny race car-like deflector that could be lowered into the bulkhead. The GRP body was initially available in three colours: yellow, which seems to have been the most popular (and iconic) choice, as well as blue and dark red. Silver was added from MY 1997.
In 1996, a real windscreen was proposed, which tended to be favoured by most clients who didn’t want to wear protective headgear constantly. The windscreen version came with an optional and deliberately symbolic fabric top. It was called an “umbrella” by Renault, who made sure it was understood that it was not waterproof and that sidescreens were not included, and that this top could only be used under 90kph. The Spider, with or without a windscreen, was meant to be an open car.
It was also meant to be as light as possible. The 2-litre engine churned out 147hp, which is not bad for a 2-litre, but nowhere near Porsche or Alfa Romeo territory. Renault managed to keep the Spider down to 930kg (965kg for the windscreen version), no small feat in a modern roadster. It was 300kg lighter than the Boxster and 200kg lighter than the BMW Z3 – only hard-core specialist outfits like Lotus could beat it on that front.
Still, the Renault Spider’s main issue was its modest engine. With a top speed of 204-210kph (with or without the windscreen) and a 0-100kph time just under 7 seconds, it was a nice little sports car, but nothing outstanding.
Nonetheless, Renault Sport used the Spider to create a special track version, the Trophy. The car was revisited by Fior and given a 180hp engine, a rollcage, a six-speed gearbox and lightened by about 100kg. About 90 units were made and sold in France and the UK, where they usually raced against each other in a “Spider Cup” series, just like the R8 Gordini had done in its day. A couple even made it all the way to the Japanese GT championship, apparently…
The lack of a proper roof and the whole lightness thing obviously meant there would be very little in terms of switchgear in the Spider. No radio, no HVAC, not even a cigarette lighter. A few nets here and there to stash a few personal items and that’s about it.
The aluminium chassis is part of the décor, too. Carpets are soooo passé, monsieur. Nothing in the cockpit to distract from the essential job at hand: to pilot the Spider with your hair in the wind. A noble ambition, to be sure, but one whose appeal is necessarily limited to a smaller number.
By the time Renault closed the book on their little mid-engined experiment in 1999, the Dieppe works had hand-made around 1700 units (exact numbers vary and I’m not sure if that includes the race-oriented Trophy version or not). Quite an expensive experiment for Renault, then. But this was a pure halo car, and it certainly revitalized the carmaker’s image. And it was twice as many as the Alpine A610 it sort-of replaced. Topless for the win.
I’ll never get a chance to mention the Fiftie in another post, so I might as well have a go right here. This was, to many folks who saw it at the time (in 1996), one of Renault’s biggest missed opportunities. They basically took a Spider chassis and wrapped it in this wonderfully eccentric coupé body, recalling the 4CV – also penned by Benoît Jacob, the designer behind the Spider.
Yes, it’s an acquired taste, but at least it has flavour. Not everything that came out in the mid-‘90s could be said to be this interesting to look at. This was a functional show car, too: they traded the 150hp 2-litre for Renault’s new 1150cc 4-cyl. slated to be used in the Twingo, so only 60hp were available. For whatever reason, the French carmakers were not interested in the growing neo-retro craze of the times, so the Fiftie remained a one-off. But imagine three-way comparison circa 2001 between this (albeit with a bigger engine), the New Beetle and the New Mini…
It’s unclear how many Spiders were exported, but I’ve seen the odd one in Japan. It has everything to please the local auto otaku crowd, bar the badge. Renault definitely doesn’t have an image that meshes with this car, either back in the ‘90s or today, hence the resurrection of Alpine a few years ago. If nothing else, the Spider was a great leap into uncharted waters for Renault. Swimming is always better topless.
When I think of Renault, I think of R5 Turbo2. Drove one once.
I don’t find the Spider to be attractive but it is interesting and that’s a plus. As you said, ” it’s an acquired taste, but at least it has flavour”. I like the concept of lightness and nothing that is unnecessary, something like the Lotus mantra. It was never exported to the USA but I might have been a customer if it had.
Ah, the days when major manufacturers surprised us with vehicles that went beyond the cookie-cutter approach! The Spider certainly deserves to be remembered as a unique and quirky car, and this example is definitely well cared for by it’s owner
At the time the Spider suffered greatly the existence of the Lotus Elise, which handily outsold it, and was somewhat easier to live with. If i recall correctly, the Lotus was also cheaper
Oh my, there is a lot going on with that car stylistically, actually far too much. Reminds me of how I drew cars when I was 6 years old. You should have seen my pictures of battleships.
Interesting
I like it. It’s a decent retro-fication of the 1970s Alpine or Interlagos.