Alfa Romeo Brera: Beautiful but flawed

Gorgeous, isn’t it? Were Alfa Romeo to introduce the Brera today, the internet would lose its mind. Giorgetto Giugiaro’s styling – unveiled first as a concept at the Geneva Motor Show in 2002, surely accompanied by the collective thump of a thousand dropped jaws hitting the carpet – has aged that brilliantly. It would not have looked out of place on a bedroom wall alongside supercar exotica. And that is exactly where I put it, yes? No. Mine was covered in Manchester United posters. Apologies, Alfa, but not even the Brera could shift Paul Scholes.

Still, few cars fired my preteen imagination quite like this one. It was not merely beautiful; it also seemed plausibly attainable – the nearest thing to an object of desire for a boy without any pocket money. When it reached showrooms in 2005, prices began at roughly £25k, yet, like the Lotus Emira today, it appeared far more exotic than its price had any business allowing.

Alfa Romeo Brera looks and dynamic shortcomings

Underneath, naturally, the story was rather different. Created alongside the 159, the Brera soon proved to be more than just a show pony – but it could not support its stunning appearance with equivalent handling. Search for its 2008 TGTV lap and admire the dramatic dive from the front end under braking, plus the almost cartoonish understeer. Little surprise that the Audi TT and Mazda RX-8 trounced it. At the time, even the BMW 3 Series and Peugeot 407 coupés were better resolved. In dynamic terms, the Brera fell short.

Photography: Jonny Fleetwood

The Prodrive-developed Brera S

That changed when Prodrive stepped in. It added Eibach springs, Bilstein dampers – each set up for UK roads – revised geometry, a ride height lowered by 10mm, and 19in alloys that nevertheless cut 8kg compared with the standard 17s. Overall, the 2.2 4cyl shed 35kg and the 3.2 V6 lost 100kg. Thus the Brera S arrived: Italian design, British fettling, and only 500 made. The finest Brera of the lot.

I am driving... the standard 2.2. It is arguably the most appealing non-S version, though, because the 3.2’s V6 soundtrack came at the expense of extra mass. That made its front end considerably less eager to react. Setting off with expectations firmly set to ‘heavily tempered’, I am beaming within a mile. Simply because it is getting on a bit, the Brera feels far more engaging than a modern car. There is hefty steering, no Ultra HD dashboard, and no ADAS bonging constantly away. Bliss. At what stage during the past 15 years did we create such a gap between person and machine?

It is admittedly neither particularly nimble nor especially rapid, while the steering trails behind your inputs. Yet the gearshift has a delightful action, the visibility is superb, and the double takes from pedestrians suggest that merely passing by in it brightens people’s day. That shared affection is its greatest quality.

“It dawns on me that the clutch is beginning to feel a bit spongy”

Then, all at once, it dawns on me that the clutch is beginning to feel a bit spongy. Worse still, is that... a smell developing? Uh oh: this is far from ideal. I attempt to close the windows, only for the motors to start misbehaving. Ah, so this is Alfa ownership: delight, disorder, concern, then repeat – interrupted by the occasional lay-by stop.

Living with the Alfa Romeo Brera

I stop as my anxiety rises and, while the clutch gets a rest, I take one too on a nearby bench. Was the Brera a hero worth encountering? I never expected it to stir me, and it has not – this was always an attachment based on surface appeal. It remains so. But it is a magnificent object to study closely, even with its bonnet held open.

Once both car and driver have fully recovered, I turn the key and begin making for home. No, I have had enough. The ideal Brera is the one on your bedroom wall, rather than the one parked on your driveway.