Background
The TVR S was launched at the 1986 British International Motor Show (sounds quaint now, doesn’t it?). As Peter Wheeler’s first big project, he could be forgiven if he’d come out with a bit of a duffer but the TVR S was such a sensation that 250 people pre-ordered one.
Which meant it was rushed into production, to the detriment of reliability; a glassfibre body sitting on top of a steel chassis has the potential to introduce all sorts of electrical quirks, even without rushing it out to quiet a baying customer base.
Its performance, and almost telepathic handling, are the direct result of careful engineering and a sub-1,000kg kerbweight. We Brits might not be good for much these days but we couldn’t half engineer a cracking lightweight sportscar back then.
The TVR V8S is fitted with a 4.0-litre Rover V8 engine with gas-flowed heads, a high-lift camshaft, a higher compression ratio than usual, a free-flowing manifold, and a remapped engine management chip. This means it boasts 240bhp and 270lb/ft, which is quite a lot in a car that weighs the square root of bugger all.
Performance is, er , terrifying. Even moving it around our premises causes the head honcho, no slouch behind the wheel and a racer of no little talent, to break out the Pampers. The limited-slip differential and wider track (courtesy of different suspension wishbones on the front and revised trailing arms at the rear) help but when you’re driving a car with no electronic aids, a 0-60mph time (yep, we still used imperial, back-in-the-day) of under five seconds means that it’ll light up the rear tyres at almost any speed and with little provocation.
In fact, the TVR V8S’s OZ alloy wheels, along with its twin, swept-up exhaust system and asymmetric bonnet vent (which faces the driver on the V8…) are visual cues that fire us straight back to the early nineties, the sweet-spot era where old school looks fuse seamlessly with modern usability: if cars from the sixties and seventies demand a certain commitment to be able to enjoy classic motoring - and the noughties onwards mean sealed-unit inaccessibility - cars from the nineties give near-perfect reliability and everyday usability.
And when they do break, you can work on them with nothing more than simple hand tools and an enquiring mind. And a Haynes manual and a multimeter, obviously.







