2012 Fiat 500: Fix it again, Tony?

When I was a child, I remember going to a junkyard with my father and seeing the burned out carcass of a Fiat 500 heaped upon a pile of similarly decommissioned vehicles. As a vehicle that I'd yet to see in any other condition, I eagerly went home and flipped through my (father's) collection of Classic and Sports Car magazines until I located an article outlining the 500's production, useage, and the various issues that have come up with them since it's inception. And believe me, there were plenty of issues. But, seeing the photos of the diminutive little toy-car lookalike on those glossy pages, the hook had been firmly set: I like the Fiat 500. So, when I first drove the new-generation Fiat 500 last year, I was pleased as punch to discover that the first Fiat 500 I could buy in Canada seemed bereft of those many issues I'd long associated with Fiats. Now, on my second go-around, I'm not so sure.

But perhaps I'll begin with what the Fiat 500 did, and still continues, to do well. Firstly, it's still ridiculously cute. Available in a few different flavours now, ranging from the fire-breathing (or perhaps merely heavy-breathing) Abarth to the well-trimmed Gucci edition to the basic model, it's a lovable little tyke of a car. Smaller still than the Mini many compare it to, its snub-nosed profile is honest to the rear-engined original, with a large lower valance opening and a few tiny slots constituting the sum total of its grillwork.  Add in a few chrome strips here and there, some tiny wheels and tires, a great colour palette, and a rear profile that's as artistic and beautiful as you're ever going to find on a $13,495 hatchback, and you've got yourself one sharp looking little car. 

And it doesn't stop there. Opening the little hatchback's oddly large driver's door reveals an interior that's just as retro-inspired as the exterior. While that other retro-hatch that rhymes with tinny relies on just a giant central speedometer to tie its cabin to its past, the Fiat 500's interior looks more like a '50s classic, albeit one that was dusted off and updated. First off, there's a wall-to-wall colour keyed dashboard that hearkens back to when dashboards where steel pieces integral to a car's body structure. Then, there's the off-white Bakelite-lookalike plastic trim that constitutes the HVAC controls, stereo, steering wheel and binnacle. And finally, set into all of this trim, are little smidgeons of clear plastic backed by black paint, to simulate the old enamel of 50's switchgear and emblems. 

And so long as you're taking all this retro-inspired goodness in at a standstill, there's absolutely nothing to complain about. The bodywork is actually surprisingly well pulled off, given the car's price tag, and even a coat of glossy metallic black paint didn't highlight any real foibles on my tester's metallic surface. Bumper covers and door jambs were all well fitted, and no amount of clambering on, around, or under the car exposed a single spot of thin paintwork (something Mini has struggled with for a while now). Inside, the North American-spec seats' wider and flatter proportions were comfortable and relatively supportive, and although the North American-spec armrest seemed a bit of an afterthought (because it was), it worked well enough. There's plenty of elbow and shoulder room in the front, and although the rear seat might leave a little legroom to be desired, the 500's not exactly intended as a proper people hauler. The little car's bubble-like greenhouse gives great views out the front, rear, and passenger side windows, and Fiat's even been kind enough to provide a convex mirror in the driver's side view mirror housing... which is a good thing, because shoulder checking over to the left is met with an astounding view of both B- and C-pillars.

But then I made the mistake of twisting the key. Actually, I'll take that back; the engine worked fine. What didn't, was the gearbox. Having initially sampled the automatic-equipped Fiat 500, I found the little 1.4L Multiair to be as good any 100 horsepower four cylinder. A little thrashy when pushed, perhaps, but overall quite willing. So, when I found a clutch pedal and a five-speed shifter in this test vehicle, I'd expected to be treated to an even more entertaining experience. But what I found was a gearbox with the most ridiculously EPA-governed gear spacing I've ever come across. Sliding the clutch pedal up in first gear makes you wonder if you haven't got it in third by mistake, and although it avoids having to shift into second mid-intersection, the awkwardly long first gear simply precludes any chance you might have of getting the 500 off the line in any kind of reasonable time frame. In urban traffic, you can't help but feel like an airheaded idiot as everything from city buses to cement trucks respond to traffic light changes faster than the Fiat allows, and not even full-throttle acceleration will punt you far enough from the enraged drivers astern because second gear is nearly as long!

So, having given up on any sporting intentions I may have had, I settled back to enjoy the relaxed pace enforced by the ridiculously long gearing. However, somewhere been the frustration of dealing with the five speed gearbox and the relaxation I was seeking, I found myself wondering what the various noises I was hearing were. From the jostling of the suspension to the creaking of what I can only suggest may have been the doors themselves to a hard knocking sound coming from the joint of the roof and both doors, it was hardly a place for calm repose. Attempting to distract myself from the various creaks and rattles emanating from seemingly every joint and panel, I tried sitting up to enjoy the view through the tall, airy greenhouse, only to realize that the sunroof occupied approximately an inch and a half of the same airspace my head had been aiming for. Reaching down to adjust the seat height with the Mini-like pump-up/pump-down adjuster didn't remedy the situation either, as I soon discovered it was enragingly broken, and would only facilitate an approximate half inch of upward movement. Now thoroughly infuriated, I looked to the banter of talk radio to soothe my frayed nerves, and although turning up the decent sounding stereo certainly helped, it left me confused when it came time to turn the little car off. Standing outside the locked Fiat 500 and listening to the weather report reverberate through the windshield at a creak- and rattle-nullifying volume, I was left scratching my head as to how no individual step in the ignition off, door open, door closed, doors locked process would have informed the stereo that it should shut itself off. Thinking that perhaps the stereo was on a timer, I abandoned the car in my driveway, only to come back out to it two hours later, still cheerfully broadcasting the local traffic. 

Although I've not painted a pretty picture of this particularly pretty Italian, the reality is that had more issues than any press car I've yet to come across in a decade's worth of automotive testing. And yet, roughly a year ago, seated happily in an automatic-equipped Fiat 500, I found myself expounding the virtues of everything from its peppy nature to its build quality. So what went wrong? Well, for starters, the manual gearbox makes do with one less cog than the automatic, which in turn forces its five ratios to cover the same spread as does the automatic's six. Subsequently, it makes sense that each of the five ratios in the manual gearbox would be longer so as to obtain nearly the same emissions and consumption figures. Sadly, it also kills much of the little Fiat's verve, which leads me to the rare conclusion that this might be one car in which the automatic is actually more fun. But the broken seat adjuster, recalcitrant stereo, and it's various rattles, creaks, and groans are harder to explain. Manufactured in the same Mexican plant responsible for inflicting the PT Cruiser upon the world for far too long, perhaps they've yet to really pin down some consistency on the assembly line, or perhaps my tester had been badly abused prior to my driving it, but whatever the reason, it is somewhat concerning. After all, Fiat didn't leave the North American market on the best of terms with their customers, and it would be a shame to see their product take another awkwardly familiar turn for the worse. Indeed, if they hope to be percieved as competitive with the numerous other incredibly impressive subcompacts out there on the market today they might need to take a look at their process and maybe, just maybe, fix it... again.