BMW M2 (G87) review

Shunning the original E30 M3 as inspiration for this car, BMW instead chose to namecheck the infamous 2002 Turbo of 1973, which is an interesting choice. That had an M10 four-cylinder, 2-litre engine with a KKK turbocharger and could muster a very peaky 170bhp and 177lb ft. It was 4220mm long, 1630mm wide, weighed 1080kg and delivered a 132mph top speed and 0-62mph in seven seconds.

In contrast, this new G87 M2 weighs in at 1725kg, is 4580mm long and 1887mm wide, and its S58 3-litre twin-turbo straight-six delivers 454bhp and 406lb ft, which in automatic form gives a top speed of 155mph (177mph if you buy the M Race Track Package) and 0-62mph in 4.1 seconds (4.3 with the manual gearbox). You might be happy to be reminded that when BMW launched the E39 M5 saloon 25 years ago, complete with mighty 5-litre V8, it weighed just 70kg more than this ‘small’ two-door coupé.

BMW has had to do a fair bit of titivation to avoid the shortened M4 chassis being too twitchy and hard to handle. Settings for the steering, damping and drivetrain have been much modified and the springing is harder at the front than that of its predecessor and softer at the rear for traction. The M3 Touring’s active dampers are fitted and it runs on mixed sized wheels with 9.5Jx19-inch rims at the front and 10.5Jx20in at the rear.

There’s also quite a bit more kit than the outgoing M2: a Harmon Kardon stereo; parking assistant and rear-view camera; head-up display; adaptive suspension; that carbon roof; cruise control (but not intelligent cruise) and M-Sport seats (though a full carbon seat is available with the M Race Track Package option). The S58 mill gives 50bhp more than the outgoing F87 M2 Competition, but the same 406lb ft of torque. CO2 emissions have gone up a bit to 222g/km for the auto and 230g/km for the manual, which means your first year VED is going to cost respectively £1420 or £2015. Note here that the six-speed manual is also now the more expensive model, an extra £545 over the cost of the eight-speed ZF automatic (the old model had a DCT twin-clutch transmission). We’re used to the manual option being slower and thirstier, but this is the first time I’ve ever known it to be more expensive as well.

The ease of climbing inside depends very much on which seats you choose. The standard chairs are comfortable, reasonably supportive and allow you to get in with ease; the carbon buckets are hard, as smothering as an attack from a giant octopus and leave you struggling to slot under the steering wheel without adjusting the seats backwards and then forwards again, which is going to disqualify this hot shoe as any kind of getaway vehicle.

There’s space and air around the front seats, not so much in the back, which feels cramped with little headroom. The boot is only 390 litres, but it’s a useful long space for a medium-sized suitcase and possibly (although I don’t play), a golf bag. There’s no spare wheel, just a tin of sealant gloop and a pump.

Look around you and unsurprisingly the cabin is all very new BMW, with show-off surface changes, rather too much M branding and seat stitching for my taste, a go-faster steering wheel and a central touchscreen which is reasonably straightforward to use, especially with the mercifully retained central capstan control.

Now you’re into setting the car up as you want and you’ll have to allow a fair bit of time for this, too, despite the two red-coloured M setting buttons on the steering wheel which also need customising. With Road, Sport and Track settings for the engine, chassis (dampers), steering, brakes, exhaust noise and another ten different settings for the traction control system, this is not the work of a moment.

Driving the manual, I pulled out onto Arizona’s concrete roadways and immediately felt the tautness and sucked-to-the-road feel of the new car. You could tape numbers on the doors and head for the Arizona Raceway and it wouldn’t be at all troubled. The engine growls and the manual slots cleanly, but it’s a tough ’box built to handle a 406lb ft torque peak which starts at 2650rpm, and the shift is heavy and short, requiring precise movements of lever and clutch pedal to achieve clean changes. There is of course a rev-matching system, or you can double declutch, but this all takes time.

The body control is supple but firm, handling longer bumps with aplomb and matching the bump with the rebound response in a way few rivals can match. This is most noticeable when traversing diagonal bumps mid-corner (a feature of the Arizona desert roads), where the wheels on each side drop and rise with perfect synchronicity barely disturbing the trajectory of the car. For the most part, the chassis just leaves you to get on with the direction and speed duties, taking over the rest like a capable manservant, but without the advice on attire that comes with Jeeves, Bertie Wooster’s gentleman’s gentleman.

The steering is super accurate and well weighted, but perhaps without the feedback of the first-generation car. It’s difficult to work out how much this is the extra weight, which was expressed by my colleague as ‘three Kylies on the back seat’. Either way, it’s a class act, though you might want to think twice before selecting the Track setting for the steering, which just adds a darty unpredictability without much in the way of enhanced agility.

The ride feels composed, but the tyres pick up noisily on expansion joints or anything with a sharp edge. The brakes are beautifully balanced but that’s in the road setting where the pedal has a decent grab at the top of its travel and a fast-build progression so you can feel the car into a corner – again, I’d avoid the more extreme settings available, even on a race track.

Did I mention the engine? Yes? Let’s do it again, then. A straight-six twin-cam, with perfect primary and secondary balance spinning a forged crank with BMW’s well-judged half-litre-per-piston displacement along with two small mono-scroll turbochargers to reduce turbo lag – is there an emoji for this amount of mechanical perfection? When the history of internal combustion comes to be written, surely the S58 will be an exemplar, with slightly undersquare configuration, creamy response to the call, but a locomotive’s pulling power and an aristocratic wail at the top end. Choose the manual if you like to hear it lug down the rev range and keep it in third for a stunning build as you press the accelerator, but it’ll cost you.

Most will choose the ZF eight-speed auto, which is a lovely unit used by many and is here given the extra vim of BMW being a favoured collaborator with this German transmission specialist, so this is as good as it gets.

I climbed in the auto with the race track settings of the previous driver and drove the desert-floor road I’d just come down in the manual. Jumping Jehoshaphat, this is like a speeded-up Tom and Jerry chase scene where everything (the steam iron, the frying pan, Spike the bulldog and the scenery) come at you so fast there’s barely time to breathe. Where I’d been allowing time for what I considered my best stylish transmission-saving double declutch on down changes, the ZF made me look like a 17th century fop waving a perfumed handkerchief, simply and brutally slamming through the ratios, time and time again. It might not be particularly mechanically sympathetic, but it gets the job done. And you are left with radically shortened stopping distances, a dynamic which poses questions about just how fast a car can get through a series of corners as well as your ability to allow it to do so.

Sure, the electronic sentinels are ever present, especially the traction control over hidden sand and damp patches, and that extraordinary active locking differential which is often found doing its best work in a straight line, but you really do need to understand how to balance visibility with entry speed in the M2, for it’s an easy car to over-drive and find yourself in trouble. If you were so moved to have the top speed limiter taken off with the M Race Track Package option, I’d be inclined to take the driving course that’s offered with it – there’s a heavy sense of responsibility that goes along with this car.

While there’s an overwhelming sense of control in the new M2, that flatters to deceive. Three Kylies worth of weight, the electronic safety systems and that cut-down M4 chassis means that BMW has amped up the monitoring and safety, and the car has moved slightly away from the driver as a result.

Like its predecessor, this is a seriously fast automobile, perhaps not as fine in its responses as the equivalent Porsche 718 Cayman, but a different sort of beast and one that has its adherents. To say I’d prefer the old M2 Competition is to take nothing away from what BMW has achieved here. The M2 is a desirable, fast and capable machine and I for one am very glad the Munich car maker is still making machines of this calibre.