Collectible autos: the Maserati Biturbo

Off and on for the past four decades, Maserati has filled the niche market of selling cars to people too cheap and too weird to buy a Ferrari. The new MC12, for example, is little more than a rebadged Ferrari Enzo with a cash-back incentive. The Coupé is about as cheap as you can go to get an Italian exotic at the moment. And the older Ghibli from the 1970s was Maserati's odd little answer to the arch-rival Ferrari Daytona.

During the late 1970s, when Ferrari seemingly decided to start designing cars exclusively for Tom Selleck¹ and Don Johnson, Maserati scrapped its entire supercar lineup and bet the bank on one car: the Biturbo.

The bank which Maserati bet was a fairly small one, as its owner Citroën was officially out of money when the Biturbo was conceived, and so the car was much less ambitious than the company's earlier offerings. Introduced in 1981, the Biturbo featured a twin-turbo V6 displacing a whopping 2.0L—the powerplant was made so small specifically because of Italian taxes on larger engines at the time. Since the taxes didn't apply outside Italy, the Biturbo was also sold worldwide with a larger 2.5L or 2.8L twin-turbo V6, depending on the year.

The Biturbo showed up stateside in 1984 with the 2.5L engine making a solid 185hp, and was sold for the next few years undergoing minor modifications. Elsewhere in the world, the Biturbo was sold as the S, the i, Si, the II, the SII, and so forth. We got the standard Biturbo and Biturbo E, the latter of which sold only in 1985 but which made a very respectable 205hp and 260lb-ft of torque. Additionally, Maserati based a number of other cars on the Biturbo platform, such as the 222, 228, and 2.24v coupés (which are nearly indistinguishable from the Biturbo); the 420, 422/4.18v, 425, 430, and 4.24v four-door models (similar to the Biturbo but clearly, with two more doors); the Karif (a Zagato-bodied Biturbo with a 250hp or 285hp engine); the Shamal (which looks like a cross between a Corrado and a Biturbo, only with a 325hp V8 driving the rear wheels, as God intended); the Ghibli Series II (with the more conventional 2.0L twin-turbo V6); and the Ghibli GT/Biturbo Cup. It's enough to make your head spin—and it's enough to make you understand why Maserati was too damned busy to build anything else.

Collectability: Average. It's better than a Lancia, but it's no Lamborghini.

(+) It's a Maserati. Even if everyone thinks your shitty little econobox looks like a Nissan Sentra, it's actually a Maserati, and that's worth something. Sure, you'll have to explain what it is and why you should be seen in one, but the car doesn't have the pretension of being classy and eye-catching. If this was a Porsche or a Ferrari, this would be a big fat (-), but it isn't—it's an attempt by a cash-strapped carmaker to eek its way enough into the black to eventually take a stab at regaining its former glory. And I respect that.

(+) It's got twin turbos. To the masses, there's something magical about cars fitted with "twin turbos:" they're seemingly always upscale and performance-oriented. Any Dick and Jane engineering outfit over at Ford or Dodge can fit a single turbo to just about any damned car, but twin turbos instantly sets any car apart as a serious contender. One thumb up for each turbo.

(+) It's about as cheap as Italian exotics come. You'll see below when I actually talk about price, but a twenty-foot (i.e., "it looks good from twenty feet away") Biturbo will run you about as much as a new laptop. That's not bad.

(-) Oh, the maintenance. The Biturbo is a finicky Italian car. It's got overly complicated chassis electrics, overstressed engine parts, and the best build quality Modena had to offer back in 1981. Part of this is exacerbated by the fact that the Biturbo is a low-end exotic: it's cheap to buy and expensive to maintain. It's not at all uncommon to find older Biturbos bought by people who expect to service them as often as a beat-up Tercel.

(-) The interior looks like it came out of an asphyxiated Rolls Royce. If you like gold clocks, blue-faced gauges, and more wood paneling than a 1970s bungalow, the inside of the Biturbo is for you. It's got huge American-sized leather seats that look like they've got enough support and grip to hold little more than crumbs from a McMuffin, and the color choices are usually just ghastly. I've never liked Maserati interiors, and the Biturbo is no exception.

(-) It looks like an E30 3 Series...but it isn't. When I look at the Biturbo, it almost seems to me like the designers drew a sketch of a great-looking car with all the right creases and angles and proportions, and then looked at it in a fun-house mirror and came up with the shape of the Biturbo. The E30 is infinitely more coherent (and a better car, at that).

Expect to pay: $5,000 for a solid Biturbo up to $100,000+ for a Shamal.

What to look for:

• If you want a manual transmission (which I would recommend, because the 3-speed and later 4-speed automatics were provided by Chrysler) then stay away from the 1986, 1990, and 1991 models—they were imported solely as automatics. 1984 was the only year of all manuals.
  
• The later 228 is the largest and heaviest of all of the US-imported Biturbos. Stick with an earlier "Biturbo" if you want something small and spry.
  
• The 1989+ models are much preferred over the earlier ones due to many upgrades Maserati stuck on them: water-cooled turbos, bigger brakes, better differentials, and so forth.
  
• 1984 and 1985 models have reported cylinder liner leaks and easily clogged oil passages, so watch for coolant and signs of coking in the oil.
  
• Watch out for serious damage to the cast-aluminum oil pan. It hangs low and can be easily damaged. A few dings and cracked fins are acceptable, but much more than that needs to be replaced.
  
• If you're into authenticity, make sure the clock works. They're horrifically expensive to replace ($100+).
  
• As always, remember that these cars must be thoroughly inspected in person before purchase. If you're looking at buying one on eBay, be prepared to take a trip before you plunk down your dough.
  

¹ So originally, I had this picture linked with the name, "Burt Reynolds," which is ... close, but wrong. Thanks for setting me and my "damned kid" ways straight, Rob.