Morgan Supersport Review: A Serious Sports Car Disguised As An Antique

Just looking at the Morgan Supersport, it becomes immediately apparent that it’s like little else that’s rolled out of the factory gates in Malvern in the last 115 years. Yes, it still looks basically like a Morgan, but pictures don’t really do justice to how low, wide and from some angles, downright mean it looks.

The spec only reinforces how much it means business. The powertrain is lifted straight from its Plus Six predecessor, a 335bhp, 369lb ft 3.0-litre turbocharged straight-six from BMW, hooked up to ZF’s venerable eight-speed automatic.

But despite the looks, nearly everything else is new. The reworked aluminium chassis is 10 per cent stiffer, the steering is faster, the suspension geometry reworked. You can spec a limited-slip diff and, with the Dynamic Handling Pack, a set of adjustable Nitron dampers.

All in, it weighs just 1170kg, a smidge more than an Alpine A110, but it has almost 40bhp more than even the most potent version of the little French coupe. This is reflected in its 3.9-second 0-62mph dash, although presumably thanks to the still olde-worlde aero, the Supersport runs out of puff at a comparatively modest 163mph.

It’s supposed to not only be the sportiest thing Morgan’s made yet, but the most usable, too. It has a nice Sennheiser sound system, and you can Bluetooth your phone and juice it up via an inductive charger. It even has a groundbreaking feature not seen on a Morgan in many moons, called *checks notes* ‘a boot’. This, we’re told, is for storing things in.

Open this boot, and you’re greeted with an exposed strip of the ash frame that the body panels are shaped around. In other words, yes, it’s still partially made of wood.

So, it’s got modern sports car pace, and supposedly a decent bit of practicality, too. Is Morgan really now producing something that you could credibly buy as a regular-use sports car instead of, say, a Porsche Boxster?

From a practicality standpoint, erm, no. It’s certainly more usable than, say, a Super 3, but there are still a lot of Morgan-y compromises that would realistically limit the Supersport to more occasional use.

There’s not really anywhere for your right arm to go, for a start, and you sort of sit on the big, pillowy leather seats rather than in them, wedging yourself under a wheel that adjusts for reach but not height. There isn’t really anywhere to put stuff, including in that boot, which is tiny. Also, while the whole digital detox vibe of the interior is welcome, a small screen with phone-mirroring capability wouldn’t have gone amiss.

There’s more once you’re on the move. Yes, you can theoretically make hands-free calls, but you’d probably need to park up anyway, because the wind noise in the cabin is fairly spectacular. We didn’t try it with the optional hard top fitted, but other reviews say it’s still pretty cacophonous with it on. There’s no cruise control, either, denting the Supersport’s touring capabilities.

The arrival of rain poses a couple of problems, too: the soft top roof is rather more than the work of a moment to raise, and the trio of windscreen wipers that scrape across the pillbox screen are charmingly naff.

Perhaps it’s unfair to single out these issues – claims of a more usable car or not, it is still a Morgan. And really, they’re where the big negatives end.

For a start, there’s plenty to like about the cabin. It not only looks spectacular, but feels exquisite, all sumptuous leather and carpet and gorgeous polished wood and metal. The analogue dials in the centre of the dash are a beautiful centrepiece, even if they are rendered basically redundant by the little digital display behind the wheel.

Then, you fire it up, and the BMW straight-six barks into life with a reassuringly angry growl, one that says ‘yes, we know it’s not the 1950s anymore’. Once you’ve calibrated yourself to the sensation of your bum being almost above the rear axle, though, it’s a surprisingly easy thing to glide around town in. The steering is light and direct, the ride firm but not punishing, and the ZF ’box as smooth and unintrusive as ever.

These urban manners don’t come at the cost of proper handling talent, though. The Supersport is every bit the thoroughly modern sports car. For starters, 335bhp in a car this light has exactly the effect you expect it to, flinging the Supersport enthusiastically towards the horizon.

The gearbox is a good companion here too, if not quite as crisp and rapid in its shifts as a dual-clutcher would be. It responds keenly to manual changes but the small and slightly plasticky paddles are a bit of a letdown next to the rest of the stunning interior (and as the Z4 and Supra prove, it’s not as if this engine can’t be hooked up to a manual, so the choice would be nice).

Approaching a corner, the brake pedal is almost race-car firm and the brakes themselves strong and bitey, giving you the confidence to brake hard and late. At speed, the steering weights up nicely but is still darty and direct, allowing you to guide that endless nose through tight bends. It lacks the last little nibble of feedback that the very best sports car steering systems give you, but it’s still utterly lovely.

Just as impressive are the bags of grip offered up by the Michelin PS5 tyres and optional LSD. You can get back on the throttle quickly and eagerly, powering out of a corner and back up to speed, ready for the next one. It’s a slightly bizarre but addictive experience – the surroundings, with all that rich leather and the arched bonnet stretching out ahead of you, are undeniably vintage, but the sensations and the soundtrack are up there with the best modern sports cars. It’s wonderful.

It can cruise, too. Yes, it’s noisy, and the driving position isn’t brilliant, but the seats are comfy enough, and the ride at speed is relaxed and supple.

The Supersport’s a niche product, lacking ‘rivals’ in the traditional sense. Next to other sports cars of a similar performance level, there are compromises: it’s not as broadly talented as a Porsche 718, not as lithe and alert as an Alpine A110, not as exotic-feeling as a Lotus Emira. Starting at a pinch over £105k, it’s a lot more expensive than any of them, too.

On the other hand, it’s way more amenable to regular use than, say, a Caterham, and it’s still properly good to drive. But most importantly, it makes every journey feel like a genuine event.

The concessions to making it still look and feel like a Morgan mean that only the brave, the patient and the light-of-luggage could use it as a true everyday car. But as a toy, a thing to steal away for a weekend and revel in the sensations and the theatre with a huge grin on your face, there’s not much else like the Supersport on sale right now.