Bburago Dodge Viper RT/10
Almost ten years ago, a design team led by Tom Gale wowed the car-show circuit with Dodge's interpretation of a Shelby Cobra for the '90s. No, they didn't use either name, but the intent was clear: an open car, huge engine in front, fat tires, and side pipes. They even speculated loudly about 0-100-0 times. The swoopy body was low-slung and, to cover a wider base, the show car was presented in a Ferrari-esque shade of red.
The general acclaim that ensued was followed by well-heeled potential buyers throwing wads of large bills at Dodge dealers, which was enough to tip the scales and ensure the Viper's production. The less obvious motive in Chrysler's decision was that the Viper was a testbed for experimental and small-scale production techniques, which led in part to the later production of the Prowler. The more obvious motive was that the big roadster provided the flagship that Chrysler/Plymouth/Dodge so desperately needed at the time.
So Lee Iacocca gave it his blessing, and Dodge's supercar moved cautiously into limited production. It would be pitted directly against Chevy's All-American best-seller, the Corvette, which by then was already into its eighth year of the C4 generation -- no longer a fresh design. The Viper was lower, wider, and had a bigger engine -- ten cylinders to the 'Vette's eight. It had the first side pipes seen on an American production sports car in two decades.
And it cost a lot more. While the low production numbers minimized Chrysler's risk in case of failure, they also minimized the economy of scale that set the 'Vette's price at about half that of the Viper. But the Viper was a success, both with the buyers and the motor press. The success was enough that they boldly followed the RT/10 with the GTS coupe. By now the Viper has been named by some as the #1 American sports car, doubtless to the consternation of the Corvette group at Chevrolet.
And in a double marketing coup, they got the Viper selected to pace the race at Indy -- an honor often going to the Corvette -- and ol' Shel himself to drive it!
The Viper's popular success naturally led to its widespread replication in scale, including 1:18. Bburago and Maisto both produce two Vipers each: Bburago makes the open RT/10 and the GTS, Maisto the GTS and the limited-edition (by Dodge) GTS-R. If you want a regular GTS, you have a choice. I began my nest of Vipers with a red Bburago RT/10.
After the Ferrari 550 Maranello, I had very high expectations for this car. They were partly borne out, partly exceeded -- and partly disappointed.
The first thing I noticed about the Ferrari was the paint -- it has good depth and a silky finish. On this score the Viper disappointed me -- the finish is not up to the same standard. It's good, sure, but not excellent. It lacks the depth, and it has a few tiny blemishes. And where the Ferrari's inner hood has a liner, the Viper's is partially painted bare metal -- the same half-hearted approach that I find so irritating in Maistos.
On the other side of the hood is a fine rendition of the big V-10, complete with the Viper logo cast into the heads. Unfortunately, the hood lacks a prop rod and doesn't wedge open, making it difficult to display. You can wedge a small item inconspicuously near the leading-edge hinge to prop it open.
From the engine we move on to the windshield area. The Viper's wipers (hey, that's catchy!) aren't really very good: they are cast in a high-gloss plastic that would be convincing for glass, but can't pass for rubber and painted metal. The visors are too glossy, and the center rearview mirror is angled downward to show the driver the top of the dashboard. Moving down into the cockpit we find the Simpson shoulder belts hanging down the seats, part of a racing five-point harness. Curiously, the rest of the harness seems to be absent.
The small shifter and brake handle look even smaller on the Viper's huge console, which houses the six-speed transmission. The decal portraying the dash gauges looks flat and unconvincing, and on my example it has lifted off where it comes down to the console. Pressing it back into place is temporary; it'll need some kind of adhesive.
The side mirrors on the doors are nicely integrated into the door casting, but the bits of silvered plastic representing the mirrors are poorly shaped, and their alignment is even worse.
Opening the doors leads us to notice several things: the small squeeze bulbs for inflating the lateral supports, for instance. The huge front fender vents that end just ahead of the doors (as if we could miss them before!).The fact that the doors have a spring action that snaps them briskly shut, and that they are hinged inside the joint, rather than the usual displaced hinge -- similar to that used on Maisto's Ferrari F50. The doors have additional alignment pins above and below the slip plate, making them far less wobbly than those of the F50 -- but the driver's door came off in my hands three times in fifteen minutes of (careful) handling. Examination revealed that the pin in the slot was too short, allowing the slip plate to flex over it. I'm glad that Bburagos snap together, but they shouldn't snap apart so easily.
The other door hasn't fallen off yet, so it may be a flaw of execution rather than design.
On the trailing edge of the rollbar there is a high-mounted brake light. This is portrayed here by a neat strip of orange paint. Too bad: it should have had a real lens, and it's the wrong color besides. The trunk lid behind the cockpit hinges up easily and agreeably stays where you put it, revealing a small and rather bare-looking trunk. A spare tire would have gone a long way to fill things up here. The taillights look great -- pretty much perfect -- and below them the rear underwing is unbroken by any kind of exhaust. Remember the side pipes?
Let's take a look at them: They are covered by corrugated black heat shields, as on the real car, and only the silver tips stick out. These tips look excellent, far better than the average 1:18 scale car. If we turn the car over we can trace the exhaust pipes from where the disappear behind the heat shields up to the manifolds on the underside of the engine.
In fact, if we turn the car over, the general excellence of the undercarriage is overwhelming. Remember when I said Ertl's Trans Am had the best undercarriage to date? Well, now it's got competition. Comparing the two side by side, we see that the Viper doesn't have as complete an undercarriage as the TA -- there are big flat areas under the seats where Bburago stamped their name and model number. But where the TA's tranmission, engine block, and other parts show mold seams, the seams on the Viper's private parts are nearly invisible: either covered, or cleverly positioned to camouflage them. The general finish of the parts is better, more realistic, and there are more of them. Given the Ertl's more complete coverage of the underside area, I'd call it a draw between the two.
And the suspension -- you know Maisto's spring suspension? The Viper's front end rides on realistic-looking double wishbones that are cast in complex shapes, but the plastic's inherent flex simulates the articulations in the real thing. In short: it feels almost like a spring suspension ought to, but without the springs. Not as good as the rear of Maisto's Porsche 550, but better than any of their front ends.
While we're looking down there, let's take a look at the rolling stock: the Viper's stock three-spoke wheels are nicely modeled in a plastic that simulates brushed aluminum. The front wheels have only a rudimentary attempt at showing brake rotors and calipers, and the rears have less than that.
The fat tires have sidewall moldings that announce their Michelin identity, though there is a curious mold seam that runs radially around the tire, just above the Michelin name. But waitaminute! The tires show the same swollen look as those on Bburago's Ferrari 550 -- which were supposed to be Goodyears -- and the same tread pattern! Comparison shows them to be the same size as well. Is the curious mold seam from sticking a new insert into the same mold as the Ferrari's tires, and trying to pass them off as Michelins? I seem to recall the Viper's tires having a directional tread pattern. Hmmm...!
Overlooking this potential sin for the moment, we still have to fault the tires for the same problem as the Ferrari: the steering again has the self-centering action, though a little lighter this time, and it's hard to get the front wheels to keep an angle.
Let's move on up to the front of the car. The headlights look as good as the taillights, which is to say, excellent. There are a pair of circular fog lights beautifully inset into the air dam, and the splitter in the radiator opening is perfect. The side marker lights are shown like the high-mounted brakelight, orange paint, but at least the color's correct here.
I was never really captivated by the Viper's general design. I thought it was a cross, albeit a skillful one, between an AC/Shelby Cobra 427 and a Ferrari pontoon-fendered 250 Testa Rossa from the late '50s. I've seen a few in real life, including the original show car, and that didn't change my mind. But as I look at this model, sitting on my desk or my shelf, I can see that it wants to roll. The harmony of the design comes together, low-slung and broad-shouldered, and it grows on me. I find myself liking the design more than before, and the model deserves some of the credit.
It's still not my favorite model, but, despite its little failings, it's one of the best so far.
To sum it up:
Strengths: Excellent undercarriage and suspension, fine engine, good bodywork.
Weaknesses: Interior could be better, sloppy in places; hood won't prop open, doors fall off; tires probably inaccurate.
Overall: Another excellent Bburago, one of the best overall models yet in my collection; the complaints just show how high the standard is getting.
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