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From the archives: Vauxhall VXR8 vs Chrysler 300C SRT-8 vs Audi A6 4.2 V8

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From the archives: Vauxhall VXR8 vs Chrysler 300C SRT-8 vs Audi A6 4.2 V8 | Top Gear

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From the archives: Vauxhall VXR8 vs Chrysler 300C SRT-8 vs Audi A6 4.2 V8

# data.attributes.metatag[].attributes.content
From the archives: Vauxhall VXR8 vs Chrysler 300C SRT-8 vs Audi A6 4.2 V8

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Dunsfold. This short, tricky little circuit is a challenge for anything, and anyone, but the bigger the barge, the more calamitous the cock-ups. Three of the latest V8 saloon cars, each commanding around £40,000 and each representing very different motoring values, are, in their own ways, some of the most rewarding and spirited means of getting from point A to point B. But in an ideal world the bit in between would have neither Gambon Corner nor The Follow Through within, nor a driver at the helm who operates at ten tenths even when he’s taking a bath. If he bathes at all.

There are some utterly crazy cars on the market at the moment, good and bad, so the idea here is to sample a couple and create a sort of automotive Litmus test with their polar opposite. Vauxhall’s VXR8 and Chrysler’s 300C SRT8 against Audi’s A6 4.2 FSI. Four-door saloons with V8s and a performance bent, all of them at the top end of their pricing brackets. But there the similarities end. And the mayhem begins.

This feature was first published in Issue 169 of Top Gear magazine (2007)

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The Vauxhall is essentially the new Monaro, using a more powerful version of the same 6.0-litre V8 engine bolted to a slightly more sophisticated chassis, beneath a more contemporary body. But it’s still an intimidating, oversteery beast. Proper hairy chest motoring, which is something that’s getting very rare these days. The appearance speaks for itself, and garners an awkward level of attention even without the sickening bass of its four-into-one exhaust. Aggressive air dams, flared wheelarches, cooling ducts, embarrassing but apparently necessary rear spoiler – it’s a comprehensive checklist of the more shameless must-haves of every aftermarket tuner in the world. But you get it all straight off Vauxhall’s production line. Or more accurately, Holden’s, since this is, in reality, the HSV Clubsport R8 from GM’s Antipodean sister company, a fact that will attract far more buyers than it deters.

It’s not all tackle-waggling though. The VXR8 is a very decent package. The cabin is surprisingly solid and, dare I say it, luxurious. Thick stitched leather is everywhere and there’s a high-end feel to everything. Switchgear is sturdy and the steering wheel perfect in its conscious meatiness. And with the exception of some tacky white instruments and VXR8 lettering sewn into all the seat backs, the cabin is remarkably understated.

This goes tits up when you turn the key though. There are very few cars that sound like this on the road today, and fewer still for this sort of money. The VXR8 bursts into an awe-inspiring baritone, the sort of sound that you cannot conjure with clever valves and manifolds alone. This is down to cubic capacity, even at idle, and anyone within half-a-mile knows you’ve got a hell of a lot of that.

There’s an enormous amount of grunt here, 411bhp and 405lb ft of torque. In-gear acceleration is superb, making this not only a formidable performance car, but, equally, a relaxed high-speed tourer. Throw the Stig and a track into the equation, however, and the VXR8’s more agricultural aspects come to the fore. With traction control eliminated, oversteer comes in generously telegraphed armfuls. Predictable, communicative, hilarious. But, driven tidily, Vauxhall’s flagship is also thoroughly capable. The Stig, a Monaro devotee for years, was genuinely impressed by the car’s improved poise and control at the limit. Lap time 1.31.

At this point a heavy heart is unavoidable as we turn to the 300C. Americans, by and large, don’t have corners. They have bends, stop signs, and their front drives, and every inch of tarmac in between is a Gus Van Sant road movie. So Chrysler took an E-Class off then partner Mercedes and removed its ability to corner. Then it stuck a Hemi in it for good measure. A 6.1-litre lump, this time managing to push out 425bhp and 420lb ft of torque. So, despite weighing over half-a-tonne more than the VXR8, the SRT-8 will still hit 60mph in five seconds. Don’t ask how, and definitely don’t ask about fuel economy.

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Inside the Chrysler though, the comparisons fall short of the Vauxhall. Well short. The cabin is a mess of sociopathic standards. Here is a list of the different trims on display from the driver’s seat: grey carpet (door pockets), black carpet (footwells), black plastic, textured black plastic, silver plastic, silver pattered plastic, chrome plastic, leather effect plastic (two types), black leather, perforated black leather, beige plastic, black Alcantara, grey Alcantara, beige roof lining. There’s probably more if you want to get really pedantic, but we had a Stig to please.

And he wasn’t best. The driving position in the SRT-8 is well below par. The pedals are offset wildly to the left and there’s no reach adjustment in the steering wheel. This contrasts acutely with the VXR8 which, although also offset, offers so much adjustment that it’s easy to get properly comfortable. How can Americans still be this unfussy about their cars?

Any 300C does look pretty astonishing, and the beefier nature of the SRT-8 only amplifies this, but, once you’ve sat inside, the whole thing starts to feel like a bit of a sham.

On the move there is an instant impression of immense power despite the car’s epic bulk. And the anticipated body roll is surprisingly well contained. The compromise here is an unforgiving secondary ride, the result of revised spring rates and larger anti-roll bars, but the justification is immediately evident. Despite very little steering feel and a fairly rudimentary five-speed auto, the Stig took the SRT8 over the line just a second slower than the VXR8. So this really is a performance car of sorts.

Which leads us to the million-dollar question regarding the A6. You’d struggle to find a solitary Audi employee prepared to suggest that this 4.2 FSI model was a performance car, but how many V8 petrol saloons have there ever been that don’t appeal to their buyers, first and foremost, on the grounds that they go like stink? Otherwise you’d buy the 3.2-litre V6 and save yourself £10,000, or more probably just buy a diesel. Despite being 2.0 litres smaller than the GM and DC V8s, Audi’s FSI still manages to produce 345bhp and 325lb ft of torque, getting its vastly lighter form to 60mph in 5.9 seconds. It’s also slightly more frugal, far less polluting and substantially quieter. As for the car itself, it’s in a different decade for class and quality, from inside or out. Truly the modern sophisticate against the antiquated thugs.

But the strange truth in this even stranger test, is that it’s the Audi that’s the barking mad car. I can see people queuing round the block for the VXR8, a passionate brute with all the emotive qualities that people miss in their Beemers and, er, Vectras. It’s still spacious enough to accommodate a family, and tractable enough to pootle about in when necessary, but ever-present within is the very essence of performance driving; raw, raucous and not a little frightening. And even though I never want to meet the sort of person who thinks an SRT8 is a good idea, you can be pretty sure there are plenty of them too. It looks good, goes great and if you can see beyond an interior that looks like it’s been designed by a day-release patient from Broadmoor, it has the capacity to make you feel pretty special.

But I can’t fathom who would buy a 4.2-litre V8 Audi A6. Good god, is it a nice car. I don’t need to tell you how amazing the interior is, because every car Audi turns its hand to has a fit and finish that leaves the rest of the world for dead. Nor do I need to suggest that it’s more comfortable and intelligently packaged than the other cars put together. And it is of no surprise that it’s muck-off-a-shovel quick in an effortless sort of way, agile around the track and superbly composed with its standard four-wheel drive.

I’ve had the pleasure of a fair few laps with the Stig, and never before have I seen him have to abandon a flier due to understeer. The immense amounts of power available to the A6 are at constant loggerheads with its impeccable quattro transmission. At the end of the straight, at the very moment when I am always working out what will be played at my funeral, the Stig turned the A6 in and it just wouldn’t go. After a lot of sawing and coaxing he had to abandon the corner and let the car push wide into the overrun. Here is an engine with so much to give, locked down in a car that is absolutely not going to let it. Lap time, (second time of asking) 1.35.

The other problem with the Audi is its price. The Vauxhall and the Chrysler are both top-spec, bells-and-whistles cars that come replete with kit for under £40,000. But the Audi is £44,565, and that’s in basic SE spec. It’s still a lovely thing to sit in and to drive, but to look at, on those 17-inch wheels and with that total absence of tarty trim, is to look at a cake without its icing.

Some perspective is needed here of course. In fairness to Audi, its buyers are unlikely to be pulling their hair out deciding between a Hemi 300C and an FSI A6, but it’s an interesting insight into the differing directions our motoring nations choose to take, and just what you can get for your money if your desires are slightly different. And, however you choose to look at it, the list price of a smidgen over £35,000 for a VXR8 is a lot easier to swallow than near £45,000 for an A6 4.2. Match them more on money than number of cylinders and then you get a six-cylinder 3.2-litre A6 in sporty S-Line trim, a car that I’d take every time over the preposterously showy VXR8 and SRT-8. But make it a straightforward money-for-muscle contest between V8s and there’s nothing around to challenge the Vauxhall. And that’s not a phrase you’re going to hear very often.

As for the track, it was a surprisingly enlightening aspect of this unlikely test. It’s an alarming place at the best of times, and never more so than when riding shotgun with the Stig, but when you’re in cars that don’t belong on the limit, it’s heart-in-mouth stuff.

What it boils down to, both on an emotional level and in terms of pure cowardice, is that I felt a lot happier with the straightforward (simple) Aussie than the clever (fussy) German. Another conclusion you won’t hear every day.

# data.attributes.body.processed
Dunsfold. This short, tricky little circuit is a challenge for anything, and anyone, but the bigger the barge, the more calamitous the cock-ups. Three of the latest V8 saloon cars, each commanding around £40,000 and each representing very different motoring values, are, in their own ways, some of the most rewarding and spirited means of getting from point A to point B. But in an ideal world the bit in between would have neither Gambon Corner nor The Follow Through within, nor a driver at the helm who operates at ten tenths even when he’s taking a bath. If he bathes at all.

There are some utterly crazy cars on the market at the moment, good and bad, so the idea here is to sample a couple and create a sort of automotive Litmus test with their polar opposite. Vauxhall’s VXR8 and Chrysler’s 300C SRT8 against Audi’s A6 4.2 FSI. Four-door saloons with V8s and a performance bent, all of them at the top end of their pricing brackets. But there the similarities end. And the mayhem begins.

This feature was first published in Issue 169 of Top Gear magazine (2007)

The Vauxhall is essentially the new Monaro, using a more powerful version of the same 6.0-litre V8 engine bolted to a slightly more sophisticated chassis, beneath a more contemporary body. But it’s still an intimidating, oversteery beast. Proper hairy chest motoring, which is something that’s getting very rare these days. The appearance speaks for itself, and garners an awkward level of attention even without the sickening bass of its four-into-one exhaust. Aggressive air dams, flared wheelarches, cooling ducts, embarrassing but apparently necessary rear spoiler – it’s a comprehensive checklist of the more shameless must-haves of every aftermarket tuner in the world. But you get it all straight off Vauxhall’s production line. Or more accurately, Holden’s, since this is, in reality, the HSV Clubsport R8 from GM’s Antipodean sister company, a fact that will attract far more buyers than it deters.

It’s not all tackle-waggling though. The VXR8 is a very decent package. The cabin is surprisingly solid and, dare I say it, luxurious. Thick stitched leather is everywhere and there’s a high-end feel to everything. Switchgear is sturdy and the steering wheel perfect in its conscious meatiness. And with the exception of some tacky white instruments and VXR8 lettering sewn into all the seat backs, the cabin is remarkably understated.

This goes tits up when you turn the key though. There are very few cars that sound like this on the road today, and fewer still for this sort of money. The VXR8 bursts into an awe-inspiring baritone, the sort of sound that you cannot conjure with clever valves and manifolds alone. This is down to cubic capacity, even at idle, and anyone within half-a-mile knows you’ve got a hell of a lot of that.

There’s an enormous amount of grunt here, 411bhp and 405lb ft of torque. In-gear acceleration is superb, making this not only a formidable performance car, but, equally, a relaxed high-speed tourer. Throw the Stig and a track into the equation, however, and the VXR8’s more agricultural aspects come to the fore. With traction control eliminated, oversteer comes in generously telegraphed armfuls. Predictable, communicative, hilarious. But, driven tidily, Vauxhall’s flagship is also thoroughly capable. The Stig, a Monaro devotee for years, was genuinely impressed by the car’s improved poise and control at the limit. Lap time 1.31.

At this point a heavy heart is unavoidable as we turn to the 300C. Americans, by and large, don’t have corners. They have bends, stop signs, and their front drives, and every inch of tarmac in between is a Gus Van Sant road movie. So Chrysler took an E-Class off then partner Mercedes and removed its ability to corner. Then it stuck a Hemi in it for good measure. A 6.1-litre lump, this time managing to push out 425bhp and 420lb ft of torque. So, despite weighing over half-a-tonne more than the VXR8, the SRT-8 will still hit 60mph in five seconds. Don’t ask how, and definitely don’t ask about fuel economy.

Inside the Chrysler though, the comparisons fall short of the Vauxhall. Well short. The cabin is a mess of sociopathic standards. Here is a list of the different trims on display from the driver’s seat: grey carpet (door pockets), black carpet (footwells), black plastic, textured black plastic, silver plastic, silver pattered plastic, chrome plastic, leather effect plastic (two types), black leather, perforated black leather, beige plastic, black Alcantara, grey Alcantara, beige roof lining. There’s probably more if you want to get really pedantic, but we had a Stig to please.

And he wasn’t best. The driving position in the SRT-8 is well below par. The pedals are offset wildly to the left and there’s no reach adjustment in the steering wheel. This contrasts acutely with the VXR8 which, although also offset, offers so much adjustment that it’s easy to get properly comfortable. How can Americans still be this unfussy about their cars?

Any 300C does look pretty astonishing, and the beefier nature of the SRT-8 only amplifies this, but, once you’ve sat inside, the whole thing starts to feel like a bit of a sham.

On the move there is an instant impression of immense power despite the car’s epic bulk. And the anticipated body roll is surprisingly well contained. The compromise here is an unforgiving secondary ride, the result of revised spring rates and larger anti-roll bars, but the justification is immediately evident. Despite very little steering feel and a fairly rudimentary five-speed auto, the Stig took the SRT8 over the line just a second slower than the VXR8. So this really is a performance car of sorts.

Which leads us to the million-dollar question regarding the A6. You’d struggle to find a solitary Audi employee prepared to suggest that this 4.2 FSI model was a performance car, but how many V8 petrol saloons have there ever been that don’t appeal to their buyers, first and foremost, on the grounds that they go like stink? Otherwise you’d buy the 3.2-litre V6 and save yourself £10,000, or more probably just buy a diesel. Despite being 2.0 litres smaller than the GM and DC V8s, Audi’s FSI still manages to produce 345bhp and 325lb ft of torque, getting its vastly lighter form to 60mph in 5.9 seconds. It’s also slightly more frugal, far less polluting and substantially quieter. As for the car itself, it’s in a different decade for class and quality, from inside or out. Truly the modern sophisticate against the antiquated thugs.

But the strange truth in this even stranger test, is that it’s the Audi that’s the barking mad car. I can see people queuing round the block for the VXR8, a passionate brute with all the emotive qualities that people miss in their Beemers and, er, Vectras. It’s still spacious enough to accommodate a family, and tractable enough to pootle about in when necessary, but ever-present within is the very essence of performance driving; raw, raucous and not a little frightening. And even though I never want to meet the sort of person who thinks an SRT8 is a good idea, you can be pretty sure there are plenty of them too. It looks good, goes great and if you can see beyond an interior that looks like it’s been designed by a day-release patient from Broadmoor, it has the capacity to make you feel pretty special.

But I can’t fathom who would buy a 4.2-litre V8 Audi A6. Good god, is it a nice car. I don’t need to tell you how amazing the interior is, because every car Audi turns its hand to has a fit and finish that leaves the rest of the world for dead. Nor do I need to suggest that it’s more comfortable and intelligently packaged than the other cars put together. And it is of no surprise that it’s muck-off-a-shovel quick in an effortless sort of way, agile around the track and superbly composed with its standard four-wheel drive.

I’ve had the pleasure of a fair few laps with the Stig, and never before have I seen him have to abandon a flier due to understeer. The immense amounts of power available to the A6 are at constant loggerheads with its impeccable quattro transmission. At the end of the straight, at the very moment when I am always working out what will be played at my funeral, the Stig turned the A6 in and it just wouldn’t go. After a lot of sawing and coaxing he had to abandon the corner and let the car push wide into the overrun. Here is an engine with so much to give, locked down in a car that is absolutely not going to let it. Lap time, (second time of asking) 1.35.

The other problem with the Audi is its price. The Vauxhall and the Chrysler are both top-spec, bells-and-whistles cars that come replete with kit for under £40,000. But the Audi is £44,565, and that’s in basic SE spec. It’s still a lovely thing to sit in and to drive, but to look at, on those 17-inch wheels and with that total absence of tarty trim, is to look at a cake without its icing.

Some perspective is needed here of course. In fairness to Audi, its buyers are unlikely to be pulling their hair out deciding between a Hemi 300C and an FSI A6, but it’s an interesting insight into the differing directions our motoring nations choose to take, and just what you can get for your money if your desires are slightly different. And, however you choose to look at it, the list price of a smidgen over £35,000 for a VXR8 is a lot easier to swallow than near £45,000 for an A6 4.2. Match them more on money than number of cylinders and then you get a six-cylinder 3.2-litre A6 in sporty S-Line trim, a car that I’d take every time over the preposterously showy VXR8 and SRT-8. But make it a straightforward money-for-muscle contest between V8s and there’s nothing around to challenge the Vauxhall. And that’s not a phrase you’re going to hear very often.

As for the track, it was a surprisingly enlightening aspect of this unlikely test. It’s an alarming place at the best of times, and never more so than when riding shotgun with the Stig, but when you’re in cars that don’t belong on the limit, it’s heart-in-mouth stuff.

What it boils down to, both on an emotional level and in terms of pure cowardice, is that I felt a lot happier with the straightforward (simple) Aussie than the clever (fussy) German. Another conclusion you won’t hear every day.

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Three V8-engined saloons, three VERY different cars. A throwback to our 2007 group test at the TG test track

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Vauxhall VXR8 vs Chrysler 300C SRT-8 vs Audi A6 4.2 V8

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Vauxhall VXR8 vs Chrysler 300C SRT-8 vs Audi A6 4.2 V8

# data.relationships.field_big_read_header_image_sm.data.meta.alt
Vauxhall VXR8 vs Chrysler 300C SRT-8 vs Audi A6 4.2 V8

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Vauxhall VXR8 vs Chrysler 300C SRT-8 vs Audi A6 4.2 V8