You’d think that after more than 140 years of car making, the industry would by now know the formula for a winner.
But as we all know, the shopping whims of the public, the realities of developing products within a budget, the baggage of history, management hubris and more can produce cars that bomb.
At least the creation of Fiat Chrysler Automobiles’ Chrysler Delta came cheap. What arrived here in 2011 was a rebadged version of continental Europe’s 2008 Lancia Delta, FCA boss Sergio Marchionne taking advantage of Lancia’s long absence from the UK and the fact that Lancia’s Delta and Ypsilon had been re-engineered for right-hand drive as part of a stalled attempt to relaunch the Italian marque in Britain.
Sales ambitions were modest although, as we shall see, not modest enough in the face of near total countrywide indifference. The numbers can wait, however.
The 2008 Delta was the third generation of a model made world famous by the Delta Integrale’s rampantly successful rally career. This car’s balletic potency entirely overshadowed the quietly tailored, higher-quality character of all three of the mainstream Delta families.
Each generation was based to a greater or lesser degree on a big-selling Fiat, the earliest Giorgetto Giugiaro-designed model deviating from its Strada foundation to greatest effect. The second family was based on the original Fiat Tipo and the third emerged out of the 2007 Fiat Bravo.
The 2008 Delta body was entirely and admirably different from the Bravo’s and Lancia even extended the wheelbase by 100mm to provide more room. But the money ran out on the inside, where a stock Bravo dashboard was barely disguised by the big-spend application of aluminium paint to the centre console, instrument bezels and steering wheel spokes.
That’ll do it, then. More expensive versions did provide quite lushly upholstered seats, though, and the rear bench slid on runners, too.
Obscure niceties like this, and a faux electronic limited-slip diff (it braked individual front wheels to fight understeer) did little to turn this Delta into the big hit the brand badly needed.
Developing a madly powerful all-wheel-drive Integrale version – perhaps shorn of those 100 extra millimetres and a couple of doors – might have helped, but FCA’s only radical move with this car was to rob it of its branding and call it a Chrysler Delta in Britain.
True, there was no doubting the American brand’s need for fresh showroom floor fillers a decade ago, but the cultured Italian dress of the Chrysler Ypsilon and Delta made an odd pairing with the square-jawed Chrysler 300C and the urban taxi Chrysler Voyager.
Chrysler UK aimed to sell 2500 Deltas when the car was launched in 2011, but a mere three seasons later, it was withdrawn, total sales running to a fraction over 900. The pick of the bunch, especially in this post-diesel world, is the 1.4 Multiair turbo, whose calling card is not so much its 138bhp but a solid 170lb ft of thrust from as early as 1750rpm, an arrangement likely to give its faux electric diff system a workout on keenly attacked, rain-sheened bends.
If that suggests there might be dynamic entertainment to be extracted from the Delta, then I’m afraid you must calm yourself. Electronically numbed steering programmed to fight back if you managed to get your Delta to oversteer might be clever, but it also underlined this Chrysler’s cruising ambitions with a bucket of cold water.
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