Background
The Citroën SM proves that even the most misunderstood and impossibly complex range of cars can be made even more so – and if that weren’t enough to scare the bejesus out of you, then the fact that Citroën chose to add an Italian supercar engine to its own proprietary hydropneumatic suspension should.
At least that’s what the pub bores will tell you. The reality is very different and for many of us the lure of a Citroën SM is strong. Just look at it, for a start; it’s utterly beautiful with a ride that is both cosseting and sporty, proving LJK Setright right in insisting that a sporting car doesn’t have to rattle your teeth to deliver inch-perfect handling.
Designed by Robert Opron, it was only in production for five scant years – but what years they were. Introduced in 1970, it just missed out on being named European Car of the Year in 1970, taking third place to the Citroën GS’s first.
A three-door hatchback, it was originally intended to replace the beloved Citroën DS but the project took on a life of its own and evolved into one of the most innovative grand touring supercars of all time.
Its name is shrouded in mystery: some say that the S in ‘SM’ is a derivative of its Project S designation, and the M stands for ‘Maserati’. Others argue that its original role of a sporting DS hints that it stands for ‘Systeme Maserati’ or ‘Sports Maserati’, while other suggest the DS’s nickname of 'La Déesse' (The Goddess) means that SM actually stands for 'Sa Majesté', or Her Majesty.
Only ever offered by the factory in left-hand-drive, the SM mated Citroën’s hydropneumatic self-levelling suspension to a 2.7-litre Maserati V6 engine that developed 174bhp. DIRAVI power steering (‘Direction à rappel asservi’ or ‘power steering with power assisted return’) made its debut and added another layer of complexity.
Citroën favourites like power-braking and self-levelling lights that turned with the steering were present and correct, too and even rain-sensing wipers were offered, cleverly measuring the current required to move the blades to assess the level of precipitation.
It was also front-wheel-drive, a Citroën staple since God was a child. Despite the latter, the press loved it. With a kerb weight of under 1,500kgs, performance was lively despite the SM’s modest power: its top speed was 137mph and it would streak to 60mph in around 8.5 seconds, which isn’t bad at all.
But it was the way it rode and handled that stunned a world already left reeling by the DS’s legendary abilities - and the brakes were so powerful that the magazine Popular Science breathlessly announced that it had the shortest stopping distance of any car it had ever tested.
Both five-speed manual gearboxes and three-speed automatics were offered, with the manual being by far the more popular option.
The variable assistance power steering might be a bit numb (actually, it’s totally numb) but you can hit a pothole at high speed and the steering wheel doesn’t move a millimetre, which is very safe, if a little dull. Torque steer is absent too, which is something manufacturers are still struggling to deliver, and the SM’s steering wheel had only two turns from full lock to full lock. In fact, the whole car takes some getting used to but once you have most preferred it to anything they’d driven before. Or since.
Chapron, the coachbuilder most intimately associated with the marque, built five convertibles (the SM Mylord) and seven saloons (the SM Opéra), both achingly pretty and hideously expensive - and if they aren’t rare enough, then you’ll be delighted to hear that it also made two four-door convertible Citroën SM Présidentielle models, fitted with extra-low gearing to cope with being used on parade.
A short-wheel-base ‘breadvan’ SM eventually hit the rally circuit, and a (sadly non-production) twin-turbo SM clocked in excess of 200mph on the Bonneville Salt Flats, but neither were enough to generate enough interest to keep the SM alive and it was eventually deleted from the catalogue in 1975, a casualty of Peugeot’s takeover of its closest rival.
A favourite of film stars, presidents and dictators alike, almost 13,000 were built over the years and its status as a rock-solid classic supercar is assured, partly by its appearance in a huge number of films and TV shows.
Specialists are, if not abundant, there in sufficient numbers to make running one straightforward. And, as we’ve seen, their reputation for complexity is over-stated; they are a straightforward car to maintain and restore, albeit one that takes time to become familiar with.
