This car is one of the legends.
In the early 1950s Mercedes was building a racing program based on the W196 platform; a chassis that ultimately resulted in the mighty -- let's say invincible -- 300SLR. That car was built with a magnesium body and an inline-six engine, and with it Mercedes won every race they intended to win. Nothing else could match it at the time -- no Ferrari, Maserati, or Alfa Romeo, no Porsche or Audi, no Jaguar, and certainly no American car. It wasn't always the fastest, but it was by far the most durable, and the cars that were faster inevitably broke somehow. It seemed that nothing could stop these silver beasts once they got up to speed -- not bushes, not other cars -- one 300SLR even won a race after impacting with a brick wall! The cars would come in with whole sections of their bodywork smashed, or ripped away by the driver to free a wheel -- and they would come in first.
That was the racer. The street car was only slightly less distinguished. Its performance, from a similar 3-liter, inline-six, would be impressive even today: 0-60 mph in 6.6 seconds, and a top speed of over 160 mph. This was before turbocharging made its automotive debut, with a naturally aspirated engine with two-valves per cylinder.
Such distinguished performance demands a distinguished body, one to be noticed by the proletariat, the less fortunate. Of course, Mercedes built a two-seat convertible model, looking for all the world like the lesser 190SL. But for the coupe, they indulged in a rare bit of German corporate flamboyance (usually left to the Italians), and got wild: the 300SL coupe was given doors that lifted upward, hinged at the center of the roof, and the Gullwing was born.
Since I can't afford the $200,000 or so it takes to purchase a full-size Gullwing, I was glad that Bburago makes one in my favorite scale, 1:18. (So does Kyosho, but I don't have that one yet!) My 300SL is in the right color for my eyes -- silver, the national racing color of Germany. (Porsches, Audis, and Mercedes sports models should be silver, just as Ferraris should be red, and Jaguars green.)
So I let my eyes slide over its sinuous silver shape. This is one of the great designs, where designers working by eye alone, without a wind tunnel, produced magnificent bodies. With the Ferrari 250 GTOs, with the E-type Jaguar and the 1963-67 Corvette, this car's natural beauty speaks volumes.
Bburago captured the shape very well, and I have no real complaints about the body. The two gentle, linear bulges on the hood suggest power. The "eyebrow" fender flares are there, the front ones leading into the grated fender vents. The silver paint is well executed, without any obvious blemishes. There is a slight mold parting line on the rear fender, near the C-pillar, more visible on the right side than the left. The hood and doors are well fitted, and the trunklid has only slightly larger gaps. I did notice that the sweep along the fenders and doors is uninterrupted by any side mirrors, and I was going to complain about that -- but in my photo collection I have two pictures of Gullwings without any side mirrors!
Some of my photos show Gullwings with knock-off wheels, where this model has hubcaps with the three-pointed star. But others show Gullwings with the same hubcap, so what can I say? It's right. I'd prefer knockoffs, but hubcaps are also correct.
My enthusiasm is tempered when I look beyond the diecast body, into the interior and the engine compartment. Now I decide that this must be an early model for Bburago, because the interior is sparsely modeled, with grey seats, cream-colored steering wheel and dash, and the rest in a pale yellow, accented with outsize chrome knobs, rearview mirror (on the dash), and shifter. The rear deck behind the driver's seat has a peculiar perforation; this gives service access to the battery. A nice touch is that the pale flooring gives way to a small black floormat under the pedal cluster, but that only accentuates the fact that the pedals themselves are also pale yellow.
The namesake gullwing doors are nicely done. They have a subtle mullion and a tiny latch, suggesting a vent window where there is no glazing. They hinge open easily, and stay open agreeably. They look right from the outside, but lack any kind of door liner. An interior door handle in chrome corresponds to one on the outside, but it's surrounded by bare metal on both sides.
The long hood hinges forward, revealing the inline six in all its glory. Well, maybe a little of its glory. This is a primitive model of an engine, visible in three colors but looking totally wrong. The intake manifold and runners are dark grey, almost black, and the shape is right. The head and block are part of the same casting. We also see the exhaust headers -- four of them, oddly -- in bright chrome. So far, so good.
Now the part that ruins the effect: evidently to save money or increase structural strength, Bburago cast the engine compartment in the same plastic piece as the interior. It has a fair number of surface details visible -- reservoirs, radiator, and the like -- but in that pale yellow color any verisimilitude is completely lost! Maybe the first Bburago 300SLs had black or grey interiors, which would work with this scheme -- but the yellow engine compartment is impossible to swallow.
If we turn the car over we see a little more gratuitous detailing: the four chromed exhaust pipes join into one that runs the length of the car, then into a chromed muffler and tailpipe. A small black piece on the underside of the engine gives us sparkplug wires and a radiator fan. But the strange choices of color confound us at every turn: the steering linkage is oddly chromed, and the steering column and its terminal fork are, again, pale yellow.
Other things visible on the underside suggest an enthusiastic but early effort: the bellhousing and driveshaft are clearly visible, leading to the differential. The gas tank is right there, behind the rear axle -- but these pieces are all minimally detailed. The black chassis piece itself is oddly skeletal, with a lot of the pale yellow showing from underneath -- something Bburago replaced on later models with a more solid chassis plate.
Opening the trunk shows us a full-size removable spare tire. That tire, and the four on the ground, appear to be Dunlops identical to those on Bburago's 1957 Corvette -- only the wheels are different. Evidently Bburago Generic Tire Syndrome isn't a new ailment.
Don't get me wrong; don't take my complaints out of context. This is a fine model of a beautiful car, and I'm happy to have it. But where the metal body succeeds, the plastic understructure falls down, mainly due to a poor decision in colors. I have the feeling that, if this model were engineered today, it would be substantially better. I'm more determined than ever to get Kyosho's 300SL; I'm sure they'll get it right.
To sum it up:
Strengths: Beautiful body, fine paint job, and a little extra detailing.
Weaknesses: Simplified interior, primitive engine, poor choice of colors in plastic.
Overall: A good, but not great, model of a legendary car. Still, it's worth the price.
Click on this link to return to the Main Review Page
Click on this link for reviews listed by Manufacturer
Click on this link for reviews listed by Marque
Return to the Main Page