How’s it drive? Well, your humble author has some experience with the mega-powered versions of this car, having been unimpressed with the M6 Comp Pack at the Motown Mile but charmed by a six-speed manual M6 Gran Coupe at Nelson Ledges. This ain’t either of those. Thrown into sport mode, the combination of the turbo six and the automatic is alert, briefly “brapping” between shifts like a DSG-equipped Volkswagen GTI, but it’s not particularly rapid. My impression was that it was no faster than my Accord coupe, an impression reinforced by C/D‘s instrumented testing which gives the Honda a 0.3-second edge in the quarter-mile.
The same impression, that of general competence without excitement, applies to this convertible’s handling. Cowl shake simply doesn’t happen, at least not on Florida roads, and the 640i can grip to well past twice the posted speed limit around any offramp you happen to encounter, but there’s not much joy in the proceedings. Steering feel is muted, to put it mildly. The ride, on the other hand, is simply outstanding. Admittedly, I might have been biased by the fact that my other vehicle for the weekend was an Indian Roadmaster touring motorcycle, a 100-mph paint-shaker for two that can outrun the 640i but not come close to outhandling it, but I was rather amazed by the BMW’s ability to smother bumps.
Let’s consider the last two questions given to us by Marcus Aurelius. “What is it doing in the world?” Well, it’s not doing sports-car things. If you charge nearly ninety thousand bucks for something that can’t outrun an Accord, it’s not a sports car. Sorry. No, I’m afraid this is a luxury car. This is a good thing, mind you. BMW used to make a habit out of charging luxury-car prices for vehicles that didn’t function well as either sporting or luxury cars. The Bangle Sixer was an example of that: it rode like a dogsled, accelerated like a sick dog, and looked like a dog’s ass. This 640i, by contrast, is pleasant and composed. It’s a brilliant Florida car, offering a smooth ride and thoughtful features galore.
That’s the kind of thing that Cadillac did so well with the Eldorado. There’s something bizarre about the fact that the current Cadillac ATS-V is a sort of E46 M3 imitator while this big convertible channels the best of the droptop American luxury cars. Everything an Eldorado could do, this BMW does as well or better. Even the market positioning is the same; BMW in 2016 is much like Cadillac was in 1979, setting sales records while at the same time disappointing many of its traditional customers.
So this is a BMW Eldorado. I’m glad. If Cadillac doesn’t have the guts to build one, I’ll take one from Bavaria. There’s just one little thing, and that is the final question of Aurelius: And how long does it subsist?