When BMW’s version of the MINI Cooper landed in the states more than a decade ago, it was a minor revolution. Sure, the automotive industry has always had a knack for churning out retro flavor-of-the-week cars that sell almost entirely on nostalgia and design (PT Cruiser, Thunderbird, etc.). But if you can think that far back in the American Mini’s past, you’ll remember it was so much more than that.
For one, it was cool. Really cool. They were so cool in fact that people were giving more honks, waves, and stares to a micro hatchback than automotive royalty. Did Jason Statham drive a Mercedes in the Italian Job reboot? Nope, he drove a Mini Cooper S in a tuxedo. And how did this little car get so cool? There’s part of your answer right there – its size made it an instant extreme. In the ever ballooning western civilization of Hummers, Range Rovers and Suburbans, the Mini was a standout. And it stood out for reasons everyone could feel good about! It wasn’t hogging anyone’s space, or eating much gasoline, or acting as an ostentatious show of wealth. You could toss it around like an Olympic gymnast on a caffeine binge through a forest of macho boxes, with a huge grin and zero ownership guilt.
I was lucky enough to borrow my brother’s 2002 Cooper S for a summer between college semesters. It was racing red, with white mirrors, roof, and wheels. The party tricks were endless – backseats that somehow fit actual adults, a supercharger whine and exhaust note like a miniature muscle car, and those signature retro gauge stalks. When I happened to come across another MINI owner, we’d exhange a knowing wave, a subtle show of solidarity against big and boring. It was a truly fantastic car, with a smile-per-dollar ratio to rival anything on the road.
But that was then, and this is now: The MINI Cooper Countryman All4. It has 4 doors, 5 seats, 4-wheel drive, and 0 cool. It is essentially a teenage Subaru outback dressed for Rocky Horror Picture Show. A cool person wouldn’t touch that car with a 40-foot pole, and if they had to they’d do us all a favor and bust up its squinty bulldog face. Why did it have to come to this? What’s the root of this storied brand’s taking image? It’s very simple: MINIs were cool because they were actually mini.
First came the chubby redesigned standard cooper, then the Clubman, and then the Countryman. These new cars weren’t as light, nimble, easy to park, or even unique. Once driving enthusiasts and trend setters realized their fun was over, they left BMW to their misguided MINI practices: launching average sized people carriers that betray their badge simply by existing.
What MINI is now is worse than uncool, worse than the Pontiac Aztec and the Dodge Dart and the Toyota Yaris. What MINI is now, is a fraud.