Driving the 2015 BMW M3 and M4, rewriting history along the way

While BMW may say that its halo car is the all-new i8 hybrid, in reality, it’s the M3. The “i” line certainly predicts the future, but the M3 will always be a key to that future’s existence; just say “E30” to anyone who has the vaguest interest in performance cars and they’ll tell you that it embodies everything BMW’s M division stands for.

However, in the same breath they’ll complain about how it’s been going wrong ever since, and that the E46 was the last pureblooded M3. That timing loosely correlates with BMW’s expansion into SUVs with the X5, and a few short years later into big hatchbacks like the X6 and now plug-in hybrids. Model numbers have swelled too; today a 3 Series coupe is a 4 Series (although you can still buy a four-door 4 Series like the 3 Series if you opt for the Gran Coupe model — not to be confused with the four-door 3 Series Gran Turismo).

Dilution, then, is the term of the decade. And yet from a sales perspective, bombarding buyers with confusing choices clearly works; BMW just recorded its best May in history. But for the enthusiast, these sales come at a price – one that’s not counted in dollar bills but in the number of hairs standing on the back of your neck.

Take the latest M5, for example. By all measured statistics, it performs brilliantly. But as an object of desire, it lacks emotion. There’s nothing special about it, and the same conclusion fills Internet forums regarding the outgoing E90 M3. And with the 2015 M3/M4 ditching its V-8 motor in favor of a twin-turbo inline-6, worries about the M3's status of corporate spirit animal have been fueled even further.

Of course some of that negativity was merely chatter from commenters (and some journalists) who have never driven cars like an E30, E36 or E46 M3 for comparison. A new M3 is worse than an older one because that’s the stereotypical storyline we all adhere to, whether we have a basis to make those judgments or not. And it will be the same thing as the reviews for the fifth-gen, F80 M3 pile in: “Brilliant, yes – but it’s no E30.”

I’ve not driven enough pre-E90s to make a thorough comparison, so I won’t try to make one here in our first drive of the 2015 M3 and M4. And it’s primarily irrelevant anyway, as the topography of the auto industry has shifted so vastly over the years that cars like the E30 couldn't exist today. Regardless, I find the current F10 M5 to be disappointing not because of the E60 M5’s greatness, but because as a standalone car it failed to grip me: it’s fast, comfortable and handles great, but it keeps the driver at arms length.

BMW’s dilution issue is something real, and as we’ve discovered with the M5, it has impacted some key models. For 2015, the F80 M3/M4 promises to maintain the spark that was passed down from the past four generations, while increasing its usability. During the car’s presentation at Road America – one of the most revered racetracks in America – there was plenty of PR chatter about M standing for efficiency and sustainability (the new cars boast 25 percent better fuel economy), as well as the ultimate in performance. I bet that wasn’t the case at the original’s launch in 1985, but it’s a reminder of how times have changed.

On track, though, it’s business as usual. The M3/M4 duo weigh around 180 lbs. less than their outgoing counterpart. They’re more powerful, too, with 425 hp and 406 lb.-ft. of torque arriving from an all-new 3.0-liter engine with a closed-deck crankcase. The two mono-scroll turbochargers spin up to 120k-200k rpm, with an electric wastegate and 18 psi of maximum boost pressure. To combat the lack of throttle response associated with a turbo motor, BMW opted for a lighter forged crankshaft to reduce the rotating mass, while ensuring the continuously variable valve and camshaft timing work in harmony.

While I was impressed by Ferrari’s new turbocharged engine in the California T, in the M3/M4, it’s even better. The throttle response is explosive in all gears. Despite its high-revving redline of 7,600 rpm, by 7,000 rpm it feels like it’s running out of steam. In the Ferrari, it felt like it was still motoring at its 7,500 rpm redline, but the Bimmer’s initial punch feels more engaging.