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Meet your heroes: the Jensen Interceptor is a Great British muscle car

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Meet your heroes: the Jensen Interceptor is a Great British muscle car | Top Gear

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A muscle car with a massive V8 and possibly the greatest car name in the history of cars

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Meet your heroes: the Jensen Interceptor is a Great British muscle car

# data.attributes.metatag[].attributes.content
A muscle car with a massive V8 and possibly the greatest car name in the history of cars

# data.attributes.metatag[].attributes.content
Meet your heroes: the Jensen Interceptor is a Great British muscle car

# data.attributes.metatag[].attributes.content
A muscle car with a massive V8 and possibly the greatest car name in the history of cars

# data.attributes.metatag[].attributes.content
Meet your heroes: the Jensen Interceptor is a Great British muscle car

# data.attributes.metatag[].attributes.content
Meet your heroes: the Jensen Interceptor is a Great British muscle car

# data.attributes.metatag[].attributes.content
A muscle car with a massive V8 and possibly the greatest car name in the history of cars

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I'm not sure I have driven another car that rumbles about quite as satisfyingly as this Jensen Interceptor. There’s something deeply pleasing in the act of getting about the place in it. People say the reason the Interceptor has never been worth big money is that it lacks pedigree, but having spent a week with one I find the combination of Carozzeria Touring styling and lumpy great Detroit motor utterly beguiling. And we’ll just skate over the bit that was 1970s West Midlands build quality.

Maybe it’s because this one isn’t an original. Or maybe it’s because I have memories of an original. Memories chiefly concerned with polishing chrome, overheating in traffic and learning how carburettors work in a fume-choked garage. Often seen as a car for cads, bounders and rakes, it was also a car for my dad who – although he has his days – is none of those things. He’d bought his Series III off a chap who had a pair of Interceptors – a sure sign of bounder tendencies.

It was a centrepiece of my childhood: there was the time we got mistaken for guests at Andrew Lloyd-Webber’s garden party even though we were just dropping my sister off to play in her primary school brass band. The time we overheated on a dual carriageway. The many times I watched the nonchalant, bouncing speedo needle sweep deep into illicit territory, great V8 huffing, small me convinced there was no mightier car in the world.

Photography: Mark Riccioni

Part of the thrill of the Interceptor – besides the fact no car has ever worn a better name – is that it’s a bit under the radar. Not many know the badge, few are aware the Interceptor FF was the first car with 4WD and ABS. It’s not a car you’d buy if you’d made some money and then got ‘into cars’. You need to have had a back story, and since they stopped making them almost 50 years ago, there’s not many people that can say that. Probably makes me the ideal candidate.

This isn’t a restomod as such, more an improved classic, the hard work of Jensen International Automotive (JIA), an indirect phoenix from the ashes of the original. In place of the period Chrysler V8, JIA fits a Chevy LS unit. Here it’s an LSA – a supercharged 6.2-litre V8 good for 556bhp and 551lb ft. The gearbox is a six-speed auto, the brakes are from AP Racing, the front end geometry has been redone, there are adjustable dampers and the live-sprung rear axle that was old when the Interceptor was new has been replaced by a Jaguar-sourced independent rear end.

One click right, the big red starter button glows. Thumb it and hold until the throbbing V8 catches. The note is... everything

It’s a period driving experience. I remember the steering wavering in my dad’s hands at speed, the steering only accepting rough guidance. This is stable and planted – just as well given it goes like a train. As the drivers of a V8 Vantage and Lancer Evo VI Tommi Mäkinen can attest. But that’s not where the Interceptor is most rewarding. Open the centre armrest. That’s where the ignition key lives. One click right, the big red starter button glows. Thumb it and hold until the throbbing V8 catches. The note is... everything.

Lazy but muscular, almost soporific. It’s not ostentatious, doesn’t demand a crowd, it’s just there, laid back but bossing it. It’s airy inside, the leather creaks, the colour scheme is period perfect, the seats are deep and welcoming, you drop the windows and set off. Now you’re living the Interceptor life. Just rumbling about. Doing stuff.

I don’t want to tell you exactly how much this one costs, because you’ll gasp and distil the essence of the Interceptor into a number. The question is whether you should meet your heroes, and in this case I’m so glad I have. I took my dad out in it. Roles reversed, we rumbled to a pub in it and that’s another memory I’ve made. I find the Jensen Interceptor almost uniquely satisfying. It’s the thing we never knew we made: a Great British muscle car.

Specs

6.2 s/c V8, 560bhp, 15mpg, 1,730kg, 3.8 secs to 62mph

Hero

Devil may care attitude, rumbling V8 soundtrack, practicality, handsome

Zero

The fuel consumption is remarkable. In a bad way

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I'm not sure I have driven another car that rumbles about quite as satisfyingly as this Jensen Interceptor. There’s something deeply pleasing in the act of getting about the place in it. People say the reason the Interceptor has never been worth big money is that it lacks pedigree, but having spent a week with one I find the combination of Carozzeria Touring styling and lumpy great Detroit motor utterly beguiling. And we’ll just skate over the bit that was 1970s West Midlands build quality.

Maybe it’s because this one isn’t an original. Or maybe it’s because I have memories of an original. Memories chiefly concerned with polishing chrome, overheating in traffic and learning how carburettors work in a fume-choked garage. Often seen as a car for cads, bounders and rakes, it was also a car for my dad who – although he has his days – is none of those things. He’d bought his Series III off a chap who had a pair of Interceptors – a sure sign of bounder tendencies.

It was a centrepiece of my childhood: there was the time we got mistaken for guests at Andrew Lloyd-Webber’s garden party even though we were just dropping my sister off to play in her primary school brass band. The time we overheated on a dual carriageway. The many times I watched the nonchalant, bouncing speedo needle sweep deep into illicit territory, great V8 huffing, small me convinced there was no mightier car in the world.

Photography: Mark Riccioni

Part of the thrill of the Interceptor – besides the fact no car has ever worn a better name – is that it’s a bit under the radar. Not many know the badge, few are aware the Interceptor FF was the first car with 4WD and ABS. It’s not a car you’d buy if you’d made some money and then got ‘into cars’. You need to have had a back story, and since they stopped making them almost 50 years ago, there’s not many people that can say that. Probably makes me the ideal candidate.

This isn’t a restomod as such, more an improved classic, the hard work of Jensen International Automotive (JIA), an indirect phoenix from the ashes of the original. In place of the period Chrysler V8, JIA fits a Chevy LS unit. Here it’s an LSA – a supercharged 6.2-litre V8 good for 556bhp and 551lb ft. The gearbox is a six-speed auto, the brakes are from AP Racing, the front end geometry has been redone, there are adjustable dampers and the live-sprung rear axle that was old when the Interceptor was new has been replaced by a Jaguar-sourced independent rear end.

One click right, the big red starter button glows. Thumb it and hold until the throbbing V8 catches. The note is... everything

It’s a period driving experience. I remember the steering wavering in my dad’s hands at speed, the steering only accepting rough guidance. This is stable and planted – just as well given it goes like a train. As the drivers of a V8 Vantage and Lancer Evo VI Tommi Mäkinen can attest. But that’s not where the Interceptor is most rewarding. Open the centre armrest. That’s where the ignition key lives. One click right, the big red starter button glows. Thumb it and hold until the throbbing V8 catches. The note is... everything.

Lazy but muscular, almost soporific. It’s not ostentatious, doesn’t demand a crowd, it’s just there, laid back but bossing it. It’s airy inside, the leather creaks, the colour scheme is period perfect, the seats are deep and welcoming, you drop the windows and set off. Now you’re living the Interceptor life. Just rumbling about. Doing stuff.

I don’t want to tell you exactly how much this one costs, because you’ll gasp and distil the essence of the Interceptor into a number. The question is whether you should meet your heroes, and in this case I’m so glad I have. I took my dad out in it. Roles reversed, we rumbled to a pub in it and that’s another memory I’ve made. I find the Jensen Interceptor almost uniquely satisfying. It’s the thing we never knew we made: a Great British muscle car.

Specs

6.2 s/c V8, 560bhp, 15mpg, 1,730kg, 3.8 secs to 62mph

Hero

Devil may care attitude, rumbling V8 soundtrack, practicality, handsome

Zero

The fuel consumption is remarkable. In a bad way

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A muscle car with a massive V8 and possibly the greatest car name in the history of cars