Nissan Z v Toyota GR Supra GT v Ford Mustang GT: Battle of the last of the sub-$100K manual coupes

If you were to spool the clock back just eight years and were shopping for a car with over 200kW, which drove solely the rear treads, came with a manual gearbox and a price of less than six figures, you had 20 options open to you. And 17 of them were variants of a Ford Falcon or a Holden Commodore. So when these two domestic models were shuffled off into retirement, it looked like the writing was on the wall for this class of car. Your choices back then ran to a BMW M2, a Nissan 370Z or the Ford Mustang.

Yet here we are 10 years later, in an era when $100k buys you a whole lot less, and there’s still three model lines that fit the bill. Toyota bring us something more affordable in the shape of the GR Supra which rides on the bones of the G29 BMW Z4. The Mustang, in its relatively new S650 guise, makes the numbers in both 2.3-litre Ecoboost or 5.0-litre V8 guises, while the Nissan 370Z has morphed into the sleek but distinctly retro Z coupe.

All three carry the weight of some serious heritage. The Mustang nameplate dates back to 1964, Nissan’s Z-car line debuted in 1969, and the Supra badge first appeared in 1978, so even the youngest of these lineages is almost half-a-century old. It made sense, therefore, for Wheels to gather these three iconic manual holdouts together to see how the Mustang shapes up in the face of two well-known quantities.

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We hesitate to say it’s the last time we’ll be able to do that, because many have made that point over the last decade and, well, here we still are. Yet there appear no firm plans for either Toyota or Nissan to extend the life of the Supra or the Z in these current guises. Any putative replacement would likely arrive in a very different form. The Mustang may be the best bet to continue this bloodline, and it’s perhaps ironic that the US market has become the global driver of manual coupe sales. Yee – and indeed – haw.

The executions and origins vary between these three coupes, and although there are commonalities, they have far from reverted to a homogenous mean. The Supra has been with us the longest – the A90 generation car launching here in 2019, when we pitted it against the Audi TT S and the BMW M2 Competition in a comparo. It easily saw off the Audi, and came within a squeak of toppling the talented M2. Back then the Supra GTS and the M2 were within $5k of each other, but times change. The GT version of the Supra you see here carries an $87,380 RRP whereas the cheapest M2 has now sailed up to over $126,000. In other words, it’s not hard to figure out where the value is. Yes, the baby BMW has become larger and more powerful, but the Supra’s latterly engorged 285kW and 500Nm isn’t to be sniffed at, the additional 35kW arriving with a mid-life update at the tail end of 2020.

You’ll pay even less if you want a Nissan Z with three pedals and a stick. At $75,800, the price has inflated by a mere 3.4 per cent since it launched in Australia in September 2022. It sticks with the same gutsy 298kW and 475Nm 3.0-litre VR30DDTT twin-turbo unit that had seen service in the long-departed Infiniti Q50 and Q60 models. The eagle-eyed amongst you will know that the car you see here is the Z Proto, which wears some dress-up parts not fitted to the cooking Z, but it was the only manual Z that Nissan Australia had available, so we took the liberty. Hope you don’t mind.

Then there’s the Ford Mustang. Has it got a bit above its station? After all, when we first got our hands on the Nissan Z, a Ford Mustang GT V8 was a $65,290 proposition. It’s now soared to $78,990, fully 21 per cent more expensive. Naturally, Ford will answer that criticism by pointing to the fact that this is a new model, with a stack more equipment, and the signature V8 now cranks out a hale and hearty 347KW and 550Nm. It swaggers in with an air of superiority that’s hard to deny.

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Cold Comfort

The Nissan Z does without a lot of things. You’ll search in vain for a wireless phone charger, a head-up display, wireless Android Auto or Apple CarPlay, or anything in the way of drive modes. There’s another apparently benign omission from the pert Nissan: an outside temperature gauge. The reason this was brought to my attention is that on an early start along the notoriously twisty Gembrook-Launching Place Road, I encountered the devilish combination of thick fog and black ice, which posed an unexpected challenge to the Nissan’s stability control system and may have caused random and involuntary gibbering noises from your scribe.

I don’t think I’ve ever encountered such a heavy-handed stability control installation as the Z’s. It is, ultimately and thankfully, effective but there’s none of that gentle backing off of power or torque vectoring wizardry. Instead, there’s a big clamp of brakes to drag the car back in line accompanied by the sort of agonised graunching noises that usually precede the destruction of a Bond villain’s lair. Better that than a pirouette into the scenery though.

Feeling a little less brave than before, I continue at a more pedestrian pace towards our meeting place at Eildon. As ever the weather improves on the far side of the Black Spur, feathery threads of noctilucent clouds starting to light the pre-dawn sky over the spectacular Cathedral Range. Settled into a steady lope along the Maroondah Highway, the Nissan feels rangy and on-side. Ride comfort is more than acceptable, sixth gear is a relaxed 2000rpm at 100km/h and refinement is impressive.

I’m not quite so thrilled by the USB cable to my phone that keeps making like a python and throwing coils at the gear lever, while the digital dash is so bright I wonder if I’m going to get arc-eye from it. I’d also benefit from my fundament being a couple of inches closer to the ground, as my head is brushing against the headlining. Fortunately I’ve brought a hat so I won’t have to inflict my static-charged guinea-pig hair on the rest of my colleagues today.

Nearing Eildon, I turn up Jerusalem Creek Road. A pair of close-set headlamps appears in the gloaming behind. It can only be a Supra. Arriving at the boat ramp, it’s bright Plasma Orange, undoubtedly the most extrovert choice in the six-colour Supra paint palette. While the Supra can’t hold a candle to the Z in terms of exterior aesthetics, the shape has aged reasonably well, even if all the fake grilles still grate. The aggressive haunches, cab-back profile and just-so relationship between tyres and wheel arches give it a sense of purpose. It looks fast standing still, and there are overtones of a contemporary Shelby Daytona Coupe in its basic proportioning.

We can hear the Mustang GT (below) long before we see it. We’re busy watching a team trying to launch a C2 Speartooth drone submarine into Lake Eildon when we hear the V8 coming across the dam. Even the sub’s remote operator pauses to scan the horizon to see what’s making the noise. Some things just put a smile on your face, and unless you’re standing outside a cars-and-coffee event facing the wrong way, the sound of an approaching Mustang V8 is certainly one of them.

Cards on table time. I didn’t like the look of the S650 when I first saw it. I thought it looked gawky and overly angular, especially around the rear end. I’ve warmed to it since, but I remain to be convinced it’s a better-looking car than its predecessor. This one, however, is a choice piece of configurator jockeying. Iconic Silver with the Bronze appearance pack, MagneRide dampers and Recaro chairs, all-up this one’s just squeaking under six-figures drive away and not by much.

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Testing times

Static photography duties done and dusted, we retire for lunch. I ask what the team would take if given the choice now, and everyone nominates the Supra.

I didn’t see that one coming. I have a little excursion planned for the afternoon, however, which may well change a few opinions. It’s called the Eildon-Jamieson Road, and it served for years as the queen stage of Targa High Country. If anything’s going to shake up pre-conceived ideas it’s this amazing 58.5km stretch of virtually deserted road.

The 1465kg Supra is sharp. It’s a proper flexed biceps of a car, this one. It’s also the finest example of this trio for leveraging the best out of its manual transmission because it feels so alert, agile and willing to be grabbed by the scruff. The shift action of its ZF S6-53 transmission is the finest of this trio too, agreeably short of travel and not too knuckly. It’s just a shame that driving the stick forward leaves so little space for your hands. It’s easy to punch the air-con controls. Likewise, the awkward position of the cupholders right where your elbow sits betrays the fact that this manual conversion was something of a late afterthought. The rev-matching function is also a little slow on the uptake. Best to take care of that yourself.

It’s a feel-good car, though. The cabin is snug and while rear three-quarter vision is a disaster, the double-bubble roof gives a decent amount of headroom. It rides acceptably and steers the best of all the cars here. Scribe one arc into a corner and one out and the Supra tracks cleanly. The bump-steer issues that afflicted early cars has been addressed, with rigidity fixes giving you more faith to lean into its front end grip. It’s the rear end that needs managing under power or, correspondingly, sharply off throttle. Peak torque is available from 1800rpm all the way through to 5000rpm. Plunder the top end and while it holds well, with peak power arriving at 5800rpm, a little more acoustic reward wouldn’t go amiss.

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With the shortest wheelbase here and the broadest front track width, the Supra (above) has an oversquare footprint that lends it that agility and initial bite but, unlike the other pair, it has a narrower rear track. It’s on a good tyre, the Michelin Pilot Super Sport (255/40 ZR18 up front and 275/45 ZR18 aft) and the Supra is one of those cars that feels all of a piece until it oversteps the limit of rear grip and reminds you that you need to be on your game. Sport mode wicks up the aggression of the throttle map and disables idle stop but there’s a more progressive and linear feel to the pedal without it engaged.

Step from the Supra into the Mustang and it feels like you’ve climbed out of an F-18’s cockpit and are now settling in to watch Top Gun Maverick at Gold Class instead. The big Recaros are about as comfortable as La-Z-Boy recliners and the woofle of the V8 firing up lulls you into thinking this is going to be a largely boofy and unsubtle driving experience. Wrong.

This is a very different proposition to the old S550. Body control is leagues better, and while front end bite can’t match that of the Toyota, lateral grip is impressive and the car’s ability to clearly communicate the transition from grip to slip engenders a bond of trust that’s never quite there with the spikier Supra. Aussie cars get the Performance Pack that includes six-piston Brembo brakes up front and four-pot calipers at the back, and they do a manful job of shucking off 1813kg of physics, but a road like this can even have them protesting. The Pirelli P Zero tyres work well on these surfaces, the bronze wheels shod in rubber measuring 255/40 R19 up front and 275/40 R19 at the rear.

The sheer cornucopia of drive modes takes some working out and shuffling between Normal, Sport and Track modes shows that Normal is perfectly linear, Sport front-loads the throttle map a little too keenly, whereas Track backs it off to a more linear map that works better on a road like this. It also firms the MagneRide suspension (+45 per cent over Normal) which isn’t quite so desirable, and backs off both traction control and stability control, akin to BMW’s M Dynamic Mode. It also switches the steering into Sport mode, which adds heft but not a lot extra in terms of feedback. Of the three modes, Sport seems to work best with a 25 per cent increase in ride stiffness that doesn’t cross the line into nervousness.

The Getrag six-speed gearbox isn’t quite as slick as the Toyota’s – or, for that matter, the Tremec unit you get in the Mustang Dark Horse – and its vertical planes feel closer together, which means that it can be easy to wrong-slot fifth as you snick up from second to third. It’s also geared slightly longer than the Supra in the ratios that matter, the Japanese car hitting its redline in second at 110km/h and the Mustang making 117km/h. No matter. The auto hold feature is a welcome touch when driving in town.

The Coyote engine remains the showstopper here though. It’s the only one of this group with genuine charisma, from fire-up right through its long arc until it hits its 7250rpm redline. There’s a lovely progression in timbre too, hardening at 3000rpm and introducing a swelling top note of intake as the needle soars past 6000. I usually find loud exhausts obnoxious, but can’t help switching the Mustang’s into its most vocal mode here. There’s nobody out here to annoy.

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After the Mustang, the Nissan (above) feels about a tonne lighter. The spec sheets tell me I’ve stepped into a car with a mere 252kgs less to haul about and the cabin is comfortably the smallest of the lot. The controls are lighter in feel too, but the Z doesn’t want for outright pace. The engine is significantly boostier than that of the Supra, and feels more muscular despite the power and torque peaks being further around the tacho, its 298kW arriving at 6400rpm and 475Nm chiming in at 5600rpm.

There’s little in the way of aural return from this powerplant, but the Z engages in other ways. The body control is the most relaxed of this group, and the Bridgestone Potenza S007 tyres (255/40 R19 front and 275/35 R19 rear) have the softest sidewalls of the bunch. Couple that with what feels the slowest steering rack and you have a vehicle that’s a little more approximate in its initial reactions than the Ford or the Toyota. As a result, you’re working a little harder to keep up, managing the weight transfers a little more diligently, finessing the gearshifts so as not to shock the driveline, picking your moment to get the most from the Nissan’s turbocharged grunt. It’s good fun.

The brake pedal is delightful, with strong initial bite, but a cultured progression of force, allowing you to bleed caliper pressure off with minute gradation. On dry bitumen, you’ll find yourself gaining tens of metres on the Ford as you approach a hairpin, braking late and long in towards the apex, confident that you can load the front end without the rear misbehaving. It’s at corner exit that you need to be more measured, this time with the throttle, if you’re to avoid the Z’s stability control steaming in with characteristic heavy-handedness. Switch it off and it can be a bit of a wild ride.

The gearchange is good, paired with a sharpish Exedy racing clutch and beefed-up check-springs giving it a purposeful feel. The S-Mode rev matching function is good, although the pedal spacing, control weights and engagement points are well calibrated for heel and toeing down the box yourself.

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Graveyard Shift

As we roll back to Eildon, with the cars in their most benign settings, an instant verdict is not leaping out at me. I hate horses for courses decisions so, after some consideration, it’s hard not to conclude that the Mustang GT is the most broadly talented car here. It offers an intriguing duality of character and this car, with the Bronze appearance pack, MagneRide dampers and Recaro seats, carries three options that I’d certainly be ticking were I shopping for a Mustang. For many buyers, the fact that this is the only car of its ilk with a big atmo V8 instantly seals the deal.

The GR Supra is an enigma. Keen drivers will love it. It’s undoubtedly the most focused option here and would provide the biggest sense of achievement to find yourself really getting to master. Perhaps its mongrel genesis and deification of its predecessor unfairly took the shine off its reputation, but six years after launch, it feels more special, and more undervalued, than ever. Of the three cars here, it feels the most natural fit for a manual transmission, yet its engine has such a panoramic torque plateau that you could virtually pick any gear and you’d get a result.

Then we come to the Z. The formula initially seems enticing. It’s almost as if we’re sitting in some sort of Noughties ‘peak car’ throwback, but have been able to add a few modern conveniences. Drive it against the Supra and the Mustang and its shortcomings are seen in sharp relief. It feels old and loose by comparison.

Yet despite this, there’s an endearing aspect about the Z that escapes the other two. Maybe it’s a personal thing, but it’s the only car of the trio that I’d get out of and look back at every single time. And here we get to the heart of this comparison. Because if we are talking about pure competence, you wouldn’t buy any of these particular coupes. The autos are faster, more economical, and just, well, better in most objective regards.

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We choose manual gearboxes for entirely esoteric reasons. We want to feel a connection, a purely mechanical reward. We want to feel part of the machine. That’s not predicated on ultimate pace or anything quite so measurable. There’s something deeply subjective about how you engage with cars such as these. For me, the most flawed car here, the Nissan Z, most unerringly sparks that connection. For a car that seems so straightforward in its appeal, it’s one that requires a certain subtlety of feel and a hard-won understanding of its far from transparent dynamics to get the best from. Plus it’s the most beautiful, by some margin, which counts when shopping for a coupe.

There are very defensible reasons for picking any of these three. I’m just glad they still exist; that we can enjoy days like these on great roads in three cars that will never fail to show you a fun time. They won’t be here for ever. Consider this your call to action.

Specs

Have modern engines killed the manual transmission?

As we touched on when discussing the Supra, modern engines might just be too competent. Time was when the only way to get the best out an engine was to wring its neck via a manual ‘box. Modern dual-clutch transmissions arrived in the Noughties and torque converter autos upped their game as a result, but the introduction of technology such as variable geometry turbos, multivalve engines, variable inlet tracts and such-like have made modern engines so inherently flexible that manual gear changing has almost come to be seen as an irrelevance. Who’d have thought we’d one day come to feel wistful for a peaky power delivery?