1949 Citroën 11B Avant

This hugely characterful vehicle was built in 1949, the same year that Orwell’s Nineteen Eighty-Four was published, NATO was established, colour TV was invented and the first Polaroid camera was sold.

So, it was actually born 7 years too late to be appearing in a film set in 1942, but never mind.

Here’s the story.

Some Hollywood bigshots approached a UK business specialising in finding cars for movies. This car was eventually hunted down in France.

At the time it was painted black and was in need of some engine and bodywork TLC. The car was subjected to all manner of mechanical work (you can’t afford to have an unreliable car in a movie costing hundreds of thousands of dollars per day), including, we’re told, the addition of a modern alternator, battery and some other electrics.

It was also stripped down, painted two-tone grey and re-assembled.

It then starred in a movie with Brad Pitt and Marion Cotillard. 

With the film in the can, it took a bow, tearfully accepted a few bouquets, waved farewell to its adoring fans, and was promptly painted black again.

The vendor bought the car from the film car people some four years ago. This is when he learned of the car’s Hollywood connection, although non-disclosure agreements prevented this from being public knowledge at the time and the car’s starry provenance remains anecdotal (but nonetheless true).

Having seen the film, the vendor decided that he much preferred the two-tone grey look and had the car resprayed again.

He has used it as a daily driver during summer months and tells us that it elicits broad smiles and cheery waves wherever it goes.

We’re not surprised. It’s perfectly charming in every way.

But he’s aware that he’s not using it enough and would like someone else to have the opportunity.

We have driven the car and can say that it is a solid and honest voiture. It is an elegantly simple thing, unencumbered with luxuries or padding.

It’s a bit like a Meccano set, albeit one that’s been properly assembled and screwed together.

It shows its pre-war age mainly in the entirely expected heaviness of the steering at low speed.

At one point, we found ourselves having to perform a three-point turn in this vehicle.

Our driver had to be rubbed down with liniment after this challenge and, frankly, he hasn’t been the same since.

Should you, too, succumb to heat exhaustion during low-speed manoeuvres, try cooling yourself down by popping the windscreen open.

Once up and running, the car is surprisingly light and nimble, diving enthusiastically into corners, faithfully gripping the road and bouncing along like an eager puppy.

It is a simple car and it’s very easy to drive. It has three forward gears, plus reverse. It’s a Citroën so, naturally, the gear lever sprouts out of the dashboard. You’ll soon get the hang of it – it’s not quantum mechanics.

It is easy to use and could be serviced and maintained by a reasonably competent gibbon with his (or her) own set of ring spanners.

It’s a lot of fun.

We think the two-tone grey paintwork works really well. It may or may not be historically authentic (either to the car or the WWII era depicted in the film), but it looks right for both).

Undemanding on the eye, the neutral colour palette shows off the alluringly curvaceous flanks of the car to optimum effect.

In general, the fairly recently applied paintwork is in very decent condition.

The doors (of the ‘suicide’ variety at the front) press home with a reassuringly precise thunk. So, too, do the charming ventilation doors fitted either side of the bonnet.

The panels are largely smooth, even and free of any significant dinks, dents, scuffs, ripples, folds, warps or other aberrations of note.

The bumpers, which appear to have just enough robustness about them to survive a low-speed impact with a squirrel, are straight and true.

The tyres and wheels are in very good order, with the tagine-shaped hubs a serendipitous visual reminder that this car starred in a film ostensibly set in Morocco (but actually shot in the Canary Islands).

The chrome work on the lights, badging, trim, handles, bumpers and wheels is shiny and bright for the most part, but there is some rust and spotting here and there, most notably on the front grille and the chrome strip that runs up the middle of the bonnet.

Yes, there is rust in evidence on the bodywork, particularly at panel intersections, hinges and folds, and around the rear lights.

But we’re of the opinion that it’s mostly superficial – with the exception of some rust discolouration visible in the sills, which we think originates from a few patches of rather less superficial corrosion underneath.

It’s all in the photographs and, of course, you’re welcome to come and take a look for yourself.

This won’t take long.

The interior of this car is about as basic and functional as it gets.

But it all adds up to a very attractive aesthetic. The space is light and airy, visibility is excellent, and the beige upholstery and trim make for a warm and inviting ambience.

It’s a nice place to spend some quality time (Brad and Marion certainly seemed to enjoy it).

The seats, though only just a couple of notches up from deck chairs, are surprisingly comfortable and supportive.

We think most of what you see is authentic, and consequently carries the patina of its years.

There is one central instrument block, containing all the basic Jaeger instruments you need (and none that you don’t). The chrome surround is a little tarnished and foxed, but it’s been there since 1949, so maybe that’s OK.

Lifting up the carpets in the car or the boot reveals nothing more alarming than some superficial rust and a bit of brown dust.

Luckily, this is a later Traction Avant model and the boot can be accessed from the outside. Previous iterations required someone keen and nimble to clamber into it from behind the rear seats. The boot contains a custom-made car cover commissioned by the vendor.

The fabric trim has come loose in some places in the cabin, and in others is just dangling free. There is also evidence of some water damage to the fabric on the door cards, and there’s some loose stitching around the frame on the front seats.

These deviations from ‘perfect’ don’t look particularly difficult to rectify, and we’d imagine that that a decent upholsterer would make short work of any repairs.

We think that some soapy water, a chamois leather and a bit of elbow grease might be sufficient to get rid of some stains on the driver’s seat which, the vendor tells us, came with the car.

We have nothing to say about this.

Absolutely nothing.

Nothing at all.

The undersides of the car are as basic and rudimentary as the rest of it. Everything appears to be more or less in order, save for the rust in the sills which may need looking at with a remedial eye in the not too distant future.

As far as we can tell, everything is in its right and proper place inside the gloriously period engine bay.

Sticking with the movie theme, this car has less history than Clint Eastwood in any of the countless films where he turns up wearing a poncho and chewing a cheroot at some desperate, fly-blown town inhabited by terrified Mexicans.

But it starts, goes and stops as it should and, besides, there’s nowhere to hide any really bad news on one of these – what you see is very much what you get.

The vendor has had the car emissions tested (it passed with flying colours). He has also had the car serviced, the engine tuned, and the rear brakes freed up.

The car doesn’t have a current MoT certificate, and while it is exempt by virtue of its age, we would strongly encourage the new owner to have the car re-MoT’d at the earliest opportunity. The cost of an MoT certificate is a small investment when offset against the purchase and upkeep of any classic car, and it gives an independent, third-party assessment of the car’s condition, which not only provides reassurance to the owner (and any subsequent purchasers) but might also be invaluable in the event of a bump when negotiating with the police and any interested insurance companies…

If you’d like to inspect the car prior to placing a bid – something we would encourage given its project status – then please use the Contact Seller button to arrange an appointment.

The Traction Avant has influenced all sorts of car manufacturers over the years and deserves a place in anyone’s automotive Hall of Fame.

This one is a joy to behold and drive. Simple, unfussy, honest and fun, the pure and undiluted essence of motoring is embedded in its genetic code.

It is proudly unadorned with any fripperies or nonsense that might get between the driver and the driving experience.

But it’s also fabulously usable (it was the vendor’s everyday summer car) and surprisingly comfortable.

And while some cars come with a few photographs to give the new owner a bit of context and a history, this one comes with its own Hollywood movie.

Lights. Camera. Action.

Take one?

We’re confident to offer this vehicle for auction with an estimate in the range of £16,000 - £21,000.

Viewing is always encouraged and as stated this car is located at THE MARKET headquarters near Abingdon; we are open Mon-Fri, 9am-5pm and to arrange an appointment please use the ‘Contact Seller’ button at the top of the listing to make an appointment. Feel free to ask any questions or make observations in the comments section below, or try our ‘Frequently Asked Questions’.