Once again, the CC gods delivered. Who had “three-seater mid-engined ‘80s French orphan sports car in pristine nick” in their finds-of-2022 predictions? Nobody, that’s who! Least of all yours truly, though you’d think that by now I would have understood that anything is possible in Tokyo, at least in terms of automotive unicorns. And they don’t come out of left field more than the Matra Murena.
Sorry, that was “Talbot-Matra” officially, though in their home country, nobody ever bothered with the “Talbot” bit. The Matra story is a very convoluted one, and some of their greatest successes wore Renault badging, but the Murena is interesting in that it represents the final chapter of the Matra marque, which all told only existed for about 20 years. It is also one of the last followers the wedge design philosophy which, after having been the shape that defined the ‘70s, hit its nadir in the early ‘80s.
Matra originally branched out to the automotive sector by buying out Automobiles René Bonnet, a tiny sports car firm, in 1964. By the early ‘70s, Matra had joined forces with Simca (then officially known as Chrysler France) to bring the fourth-largest French carmaker some direly-needed sporting cred.
In exchange, Simca’s substantial dealer network and parts catalogue provided Matra with the means to increase production and drive down costs. The Simca-Matra deal led to the launch of the Bagheera three-seater coupé (above) in 1973 and the Rancho proto-CUV in 1977 – both were very niche but commercially successful vehicles.
But in 1978, Chrysler sold their loss-making European operation (Simca in France, Rootes in the UK and Barreiros in Spain) to Peugeot, which had just taken over Citroën. In the event, Matra decided to try and stick with the corpse of Simca, rebranded as Talbot from mid-1979, and continue on as part of the PSA family. And it so happened that a replacement for the Bagheera was being readied, thereby providing the “Talbot-Matra” sub-branch a new model for the 1981 model year.
The Murena replaced the Bagheera immediately upon its launch, which took place at the 1980 Paris Motor Show. It was a busy time for Talbot, as the new marque introduced both the Matra coupé and the infamous Tagora. There were two Murenas on the Talbot stand, as seen above, but only the 1.6 litre cars were available in the near term. The more expensive 2.2 litre cars only reached the showrooms in the first weeks of 1981.
The Murena (Italian for moray eel – very close to the French term for the same animal) definitely took after the Bagheera. It shared its predecessor’s general layout: Simca-sourced engine transverse-mounted ahead of the rear wheels, manual transmission only, three-abreast seating, wedge-shaped GRP body, flip-up headlights…
The same people were involved in creating the Bagheera and the Murena as well: they were both the work of designer Antonis Volanis and Philippe Guédon, the latter being the engineer behind all Matra road cars since the M530.
But all these similarities did not mean the Murena was merely a facelifted Bagheera. The suspension was new. Now able to raid a much bigger parts bin, Matra took the front torsion bar and wishbone set-up from the Talbot Solara / 1510 (a,k,a the Simca 1307/1308), with some Tagora bits thrown in for good measure. The rear suspension was a MacPherson strut-type deal. The 5-speed gearbox came off the Citroën CX and was mated to either a 1.6 or a 2.2 litre 4-cyl. – both Simca/Talbot mainstays.
The parts bin was also used for more than just the mechanical bits. The taillights were based on the Horizon’s items and the door handles came from the Peugeot 505. One big development since the Bagheera was a new emphasis on build quality: the Matras of the ‘70s were notoriously brittle, shoddy and rust-prone. Things needed to be different in the ‘80s, and they were: the Murena’s galvanized steel skeleton was so well protected that it came with a six-year warranty. Factoring in the 12 body panels bolted to the structure being made of a new type of polymer, the Murena was supposed to at least look great for many years after its purchase. Which this one certainly does.
However, the issue with the Murena was the two engine options, neither of which were really up to the challenge. The smaller block was an OHV design of the Simca Poissy family of engines, displacing 1592cc and producing 92hp. This venerable motor, used in anything from the Horizon to the Peugeot 309, was never known for its discretion or vigour, but it was a reliable and familiar workhorse. Still, entry-level Murenas only reached 180kph (and a similar number of decibels) with it. For a fair few fistfuls of French Francs more, the Tagora’s new 2155cc OHC 4-cyl. provided more power, all of 118hp. This brought the 0-to-100kph time below ten seconds and the top speed to about 200kph, but remained pretty underwhelming, as noted by critics and commenters at the time.
The consensus was that the Matra might have been able to stomach the Tagora SX’s 165hp V6, turning it into a proper French DeLorean, only more nimble, and a true rival to the Alpine. That was never going to fly, though, so the Matra folks did what they could with what they had and, in June 1982, the Préparation 142 (P142) kit was made available. This dealer-installed performance kit included sill extensions and a rear spoiler, as well as a twin-carb set-up, lighter flywheel and special camshaft for the 2.2 litre engine, resulting in a claimed (but almost certainly overstated) 142hp DIN.
Only about 75 cars ended up receiving this P142 treatment, which is not a big shock: the price of the beast, north of FF100,000 in 1983, was nothing short of outrageous – dangerously close to the Alpine A310, the Big Daddy of French sports cars, not to mention the many imports this kind of tidy sum could afford. Our feature car was re-upholstered and sadly lost its original steering wheel in favour of an anonymous aftermarket Momo imitation.
Here’s an excerpt from the 1983 Murena brochure to remedy this unfortunate state of affairs. The P142 interior would have included black velour with red piping, making the entire cabin almost painfully ‘80s. The only thing missing to complete the ambiance would be Duran Duran in the tape deck and some way for the two passengers to play an Atari 2600.
Our CC also wears these remarkable four-lug Gotti wheels, which look period-correct, though I’d expect to see these on a Renault product of some kind. The alloys that 2.2 litre Murenas came with originally (as seen on the period photos posted near the top of this post) are not better looking than these, so for once, the aftermarket option is the right choice. Makes this special version of the Murena even more potent.
Alas, the P142 and all that notwithstanding, Murena sales remained sluggish and PSA were not having an easy time of the whole Talbot debacle in general, so being associated with that sinking ship was not to Matra’s benefit. Having failed to sell their Espace concept to a financially distressed PSA, Matra bought back their freedom from Peugeot and went knocking on Renault’s door. This meant it was curtains for the Talbot-Matra range as a whole, and the marque was cancelled before the end of MY 1984. In fact, it’s not clear to me if any were sold past December 1983 – certainly production was already stopped by that month.
As far as the Murena was concerned, the 1.6 litre model died out by mid-1983 and the last batch of cars, i.e. about 480 units, were sold as 1984 model and named Murena S, most of which were sold in West Germany. They were pretty much a factory version of the Préparation 142 and are highly sought-after for this reason, though they were a little less powerful (140hp).
In the end, only 10,860 Murenas were made in three years. Matra, as an automobile marque, ended with a whimper. But as a carmaker, they carried on regardless and kept the lights on at their Romorantin factory until 2003, having built over 800,000 Espaces in the interim.
Ditching the small mid-engined wedge in favour of the big FWD box was the right decision, although this wise and daring choice may have been made at the expense of Matra’s identity and soul. Good thing the final Matra-branded sports cars, like this Murena, were rust-resistant and plastic-bodied so a few nice examples could still be around, even 40-odd years hence and in a land far, far away.
Related posts:
CC Outtake: 1982 Talbot-Matra Murena 1600 – What Is French For Rarity?, by Roger Carr
Automotive History: French Deadly Sins (M.C. Escher Edition, Part 3) – The Meandering Matra, by T87
“This venerable motor… was never known for its discretion or vigour.”
Tatra87, your word choice and employment is wonderful! Beautifully crafted piece.
These cars embody something almost completely lost in in the husky automotive styling of today. Perhaps safety has something to do with it, but I’m not totally convinced. They have the sinuous, efficient musculature of a 1500m runner, like a first gen Mazda RX-7 treated to a “Euro-izing” ray.
Thank you!
Hadn’t figured the RX-7 angle, but it does apply. The Matra’s wedge shape is more pronounced though, owing to its mid-engine nature.
Very well integrated body panel cut lines, like the Isuzu Piazza/Impulse of the same era
Another great essay about a cat I have read so little about, but have always been curious about, especially given its three-set setup. I imagine the driver would have to be on really good terms with the center passenger. “Could you scootch your legs over a little bit more? I need to shift…”
Beautiful cars from the rear three-quarter aspect and I like the wide stance, but the look falls apart for me slightly in profile. A bit stubby, and not in a pleasing Lancia Stratos kind of way.
“Car.” I meant car. I love cats, but I would not be a participant at Meowside Classic.
Here’s a car I knew existed, have seen in the flesh a few times, read about repeatedly, however perhaps only once every five years or so since it debuted. So it’s a basic familiarity but not a deep one and leaves with with no decision on whether or not I like it, especially the styling. In some ways it reminds of a few TVRs, the rear lights are very reminiscent of 924/944, there’s some TR7 about it, the front seems long with the rear seeming short and yeah, this little French menage a trois with accommodations for both the wife and the mistress at the same time is a rolling conundrum for me. If I smoked I’d fire up a Gauloise and ponder it on the deck, but I don’t, so I’ll just marvel again at what Tokyo manages to serve up. I suppose the real question may not be how this one got there but how many more are housed there.
I always got the Porsche 924 vibe out of that rear end too. This particular one’s spoiler only reinforces that impression.
But the front, while pretty simple in its pointiness, always struck me as original and distinctive. Going down the street, seeing its front three-quarters, I immediately knew it was a Murena. (And immediately thought, pardon my French, What The Actual F?!)
Not sure I would have recognised a Bagheera so quickly. This is not due to overfamiliarity, either: the last time I saw a Murena must have been well over a decade ago; they were never all that common.
No nothing quite that rare but I did see a Sunbeam hatch with Lotus engine and suspension in a shed 200+hp and weighs less than 800kg apparently 200 had to be built for homologation and they didnt reach that figure, oh and an example of Rootes 1950 rally team one of the 3 spare cars lives in another shed on the same property, they built 6 cars so thats it rarities from this area, no pics it was a private viewing of someones collection and I only saw about 50 cars not the rest of them theres at least another 150 stashed somewhere.
Lovely car. Learnt heaps; never even knew there was a Preparation 142.
Would this be the most successful Talbot-branded car?
Depends on your definition of success, I guess. Also whether you include the Talbots of yore, be they British or French.
If we’re only looking at the post-1979 Talbots, In absolute production numbers, the Murena was small potatoes, only rivalled by the Tagora (and a handful of tired hand-me-downs like the 1100 or the Avenger). And just like said Tagora, they were only made for three years, which is not a lot compared to the Samba, the Solara or the Horizon.
The textbook definition of Amalgam. Such a well balanced combination of so many different influences. It’s as though my brain shifted into infinite regress for the last ten minutes.
“Preparation 142” does have the slightly unfortunate ring of sounding as if it might be some sort of an advance on “H” – itself for an unfortunate ring, I suppose – and en Anglais, it is not assisted by the prefix, which sounds awfully close to “Marina”. Must’ve made it a PITA to market to the English.
There’s an ’82 model for sale just 3.6 miles from here: I’m not tempted. Perhaps these look quite different in the metal, but in pics, they look messy. And 505 door handles were always a bit fridge-like. (Actually, they’re very Marina-like, eek!)
Now, a Bagheera has a swizzy indent-and-pushbutton job for its openers, and this exemplifies the many ways in which it looks better than the Morena. I think they’re very sweet indeed, and these I have seen a few of in real life. Little Espadas, maybe, whereas these seem more like a half-breed TR7-TVR and unwanted by either.
Still and all, it does rather get one’s attention when a proper rarity is suddenly just there, right out loud, and I pardon your French French about the French car that sounds like an English one.
Nicely trimmed inside, MoMo fake or otherwise is perfect.
Very nice car and great write up. Thank you. I like the practicality of a three seater. The price to performance is quite small and it makes it possible for a young family to have a sports car.
As far as three abreast seating and a floor shift, before automatics equipped all American pick ups, there were lots of floor shifts with bench seats. As I recall the driver and the passenger needed to be in sync at the times of the (infrequent) shifts.