5 '70s Sales Flops That Became Classics, And 5 Popular Cars That Didn't - Jalopnik
Car enthusiasts must've had high hopes heading into the 1970s. The 1960s gave us many historic muscle and pony cars, with things getting even better at the start of the next decade. From the 1970 Chevrolet Chevelle LS6 to the 1971 Ford Mustang Boss 351 (produced only for that year), there was no shortage of performance cars that delivered a thrilling drive. Even in Europe, automakers attracted enthusiasts with icons like the 1971 BMW 3.0 CSL and 1972 Porsche 911 Carrera RS 2.7. But things abruptly came to a halt once the 1973 oil embargo sent fuel prices through the roof.
Suddenly, instead of 0-60 times, buyers were more concerned with miles per gallon. And that — at least in the U.S. — forced automakers to detune their massive engines to comically low power figures. Cars were still selling in the millions during the so-called Malaise era, but they weren't exactly good; many once-popular 1970s cars are more of a laughingstock than anything else. But the events of the early '70s also eroded the sales momentum of some genuinely great cars that only became classics later. In this piece, you'll learn about cars that defined that divide, while also discovering models that flopped or became classics for entirely different reasons.
1970 Plymouth Superbird (flop to classic)
The Plymouth Superbird looks eerily similar to the 1969 Dodge Charger Daytona, the NASCAR homologation special that shook everyone with its striking, aerodynamic body. Hardly surprising, as the Roadrunner-based Superbird was Chrysler's second attempt at defeating Ford at NASCAR, and it followed largely the same principles. Most notably, it had an aero-efficient body and the coveted 426 Hemi engine. However, while the rules for 1969 required manufacturers to build 500 road-going variants of the race car, the 1970 NASCAR regulations required building one car per two dealerships. At that time, Plymouth had 3,840 dealerships across the U.S., meaning it had to build as many 1,920 cars (though production estimates peak at 1,935).
You'd think this is not a huge number — certainly not for a classic of this caliber. Still, Plymouth had serious trouble selling these cars. Buyers just couldn't grasp the looks of the Superbird, and it was expensive to buy and insure. Heck, some dealerships stripped the aero parts and sold the Superbird as a Roadrunner. Not a regular Roadrunner, though, as the Superbird had some upgraded performance parts, like stiffer shocks, a Sure-Grip rear differential, and upgraded cooling.
Plymouth also offered two engine options: the 440 Super Commando V8 with 375 horsepower (single four-barrel carburetor) or 395 horsepower (three-by-two-barrel carburetor), and the race car's 426 Hemi with 425 horsepower. Buyers could also opt for a four-speed manual or three-speed automatic. The Hemi variant was the most expensive, and only 135 models had that option. Naturally, The Superbird Hemi is more sought-after today and commands over $400,000 (per Classic), while 440-equipped versions sell for around $200,000 on average.
1971 to 1977 Chevrolet Vega (bestseller to forgotten)
Most don't associate the U.S. automotive scene with small and advanced cars, but that's exactly what GM chairman Jim Roche promised in 1968. The aim was to beat the Volkswagen Beetle on the technology front while also undercutting its price. To do that, GM planned to keep the weight down using an aluminum engine — unheard of for an economy car during that time.
Unfortunately, things didn't pan out as GM intended. Yes, the Vega had an aluminum block, but the engine's head was made from cast iron, which made the front end top-heavy. It also necessitated additional reinforcements up front, which added even more weight. Heck, Chevy had to forgo the door crash beams to keep the weight in check, meaning Vega's safety wasn't going to be up to snuff. And that's not even mentioning the Vega's legendary unreliability. Its rear wheels could fall off because the rear axle shafts separated from the housing. Or, the fuel tank could ignite because the exhaust got too hot from backfire. And the most infamous issue of all: the engine could warp because Chevy didn't care to equip the Vega with a coolant recovery tank.
You'd expect a car with that many problems to be immediately withdrawn from the market, but the Vega kept going for seven years — and Chevy sold 2 million models. Admittedly, the automaker improved it over the years, but it's easy to remember the Vega for its foibles more than anything else.
1970 to 1975 Citroën SM (flop to classic)
Citroën was never the automaker that played by the rules. If it did, humanity would've never gotten the cool and weird Citroën DS or the retro-futuristic SM. However, while the DS became a bestseller (almost 1.5 million sold) and a sought-after classic, the SM only managed the second part of that equation. Citroën only produced 12,920 units of the retro-futuristic grand-tourer over five years on the market, a far cry from the DS figure.
The SM saw strong initial demand, with Citroën producing roughly 10,000 units across its first three calendar years (1970–1972) before sales dropped sharply amid the 1973 fuel crisis and reliability concerns. A year later, the new U.S. bumper requirements basically banned the SM from the U.S. market. This, alongside unsuccessful investments in rotary engines and the loss of financial support from Fiat, forced Citroën to declare a bankruptcy.
Citroën, now under the ownership of Peugeot, killed the SM a year later — although the car was still the most advanced on the market. That sounds like a hyperbole until you learn about all the futuristic tech employed in the SM. Unsurprisingly, it featured the hydro-pneumatic suspension and cornering headlights from the DS, but the SM also had four disc brakes and self-centering Diravi steering. The body, penned by Robert Opron (one of the most famous car designers), also boasted a drag coefficient of only 0.26. As a result, despite featuring a Maserati-sourced 2.7-liter V6 with just 170 horsepower, the SM reached 140 mph. Even with the SM being a maintenance nightmare, collectors fell in love with it anyway, and Classic notes used models still selling for over $30,000 on average.
1976 to 1980 Plymouth Volaré/Dodge Aspen (bestseller to forgotten)
Only enthusiasts familiar with the infamous Malaise era will know these two cars existed, yet the Plymouth Volaré and Dodge Aspen arrived with quite a bit of starting momentum. Based on Chrysler's F-body compact platform, the Volaré and Aspen won Motor Trend's 1976 Car of the Year award. According to the publication, their relatively spacious interiors, solid driving dynamics, and smooth ride helped them snatch the title.
Admittedly, the competition — consisting of the Chevrolet Chevette, AMC Pacer, and Cadillac Seville — was also poor. But that's how cars were during the Malaise era. Road and Track also (mostly) praised the Plymouth Volaré in its April 1976 issue (via Curbside Classics), particularly when it came to interior space. The positive reception has had an immediate impact on sales. Chrysler sold 500,000 units in 1976, with sales growing to 700,000 the next year. These weren't record-breaking numbers, but they were huge for Chrysler, as the company was undergoing huge financial turmoil at the time.
Unfortunately, Chrysler's problems weren't only tied to finances, but also quality control. The newly-launched Volaré/Aspen were right in the crosshairs of the issue; Chrysler had to recall these models because their seatbelts refused to lock and their hoods could unlatch. Their steering shafts could even separate mid-drive. Build quality was so bad that the Volaré/Aspen became, for a time, the most-recalled vehicles ever. Chrysler finally stopped this dream-turned-nightmare after the 1980 model year, replacing the Volaré/Aspen with the company's new front-wheel-drive compact cars.
1975 to 1980 AMC Pacer (flop to classic)
The AMC Pacer was one of the cars that lost against the Volaré/Aspen in Motor Trend's 1976 Car of the Year, though at least it earned a spot on the shortlist. That's despite the fact that AMC had a different idea on what the Pacer should've been. See, the automaker planned to use a GM-sourced Wankel rotary engine, which would've fit nicely under Pacer's low hood. Unfortunately, GM scrapped the Wankel project once it learned these engines aren't really efficient.
Backed into a corner, AMC returned to its tried-and-true 3.8-liter inline-six engine alongside an optional 4.2-liter unit. Not exactly the engines you'd imagine in a small, two-door hatchback, but AMC at least managed to somehow cram them inside the engine bay. The only problem was that they weren't exactly powerful, producing 90 horsepower and 95 horsepower, respectively. They were also heavy, weighing over 3,100 pounds and only making 16 mpg. Heck, two years into the production, AMC even offered a 5.0-liter V8 with 125 horsepower, which pushed the weight to 3,400 pounds.
As a result, the Pacer wasn't exactly flying of the shelves. AMC sold a bit over 210,000 units for the first two production years, which isn't much when considering the money spent on development. Then, sales fell dramatically, with AMC producing just barely over 10,000 Pacers in 1979. Still, thanks to its appearance in "Wayne's World" and its Jetsons-like fish bowl styling, the Pacer has a cult following today and is considered a classic.
1974 to 1978 Datsun B210 (bestseller to forgotten)
Arriving right after the 1973 oil crisis, the Datsun B210 gave the Big Three a masterclass in what an economy car should be: reliable and cheap to run. Cash-strapped buyers didn't care about cylinder counts or how the car handled — they just wanted it to work. And in a sea of inoperable Chevrolet Vegas and Plymouth Volarés, the Datsun B210 was the car that worked. As a result, although Nissan (Datsun's owner) never published official figures, multiple sources agree that the Japanese automaker found success with this model.
That success is hardly surprising, as the B210 had all the ingredients of a good compact car. For example, its outstanding fuel economy could reach as high as 50 mpg — far better than the AMC Pacer or the Chevy Vega (22-23 mpg). Datsun, of course, achieved that by using a smaller 1.3-liter engine and making the car light at just 2,017 pounds. Yes, the engine produced only 67 horsepower (and for 1978, Datsun used a 1.4-liter unit with 65 horsepower), but it's not like Malaise-era cars were fast, anyway.
Alas, the same things that made the Datsun B210 popular in the 1970s don't sit well with classic car buyers. The B210 was as Spartan and unrefined as you could get, without any unique trait that helped it stand out — apart from being reliable and economical. But that didn't stop Datsun from launching the stripped "Honey Bee" model, which lacked basic equipment like a trip meter, an interior carpet, or a reclining front seat.
1970 to 1977 Alfa Romeo Montreal (flop to classic)
Back in 1967 at the Universal Exposition in Montreal, Alfa Romeo was tasked to create a concept that would be the "highest aspiration of modern man in terms of cars" (per Stellantis Heritage). That concept, penned by Bertone's legendary designer Marcello Gandini, immediately caught attention with its charismatic half-concealed headlights and elegant body. So, in 1971, Alfa Romeo launched a production version named to celebrate Montreal's Expo 67, although the car was never sold in North America.
Gandini made some changes for the production model, but it still looked striking — and, crucially, it retained the headlight eyelids. But instead of the concept's 1.6-liter four-cylinder engine, the production-spec model received a detuned 2.0-liter V8 from the T33 race car. The V8 was equipped with a SPICA indirect injection system and produced 200 horsepower at 6,400 rpm, enough for a top speed of about 137 mph. Alfa Romeo paired it to a five-speed manual, which was unusual for the time. The V8 was also praised for being highly refined and linear — just the type of engine you'd want in a grand tourer.
Sadly, the chassis didn't live up to the expectations. The Montreal carried a live axle in the rear and the suspension was very soft overall (according to an Autocar review, via Hagerty). It was also very expensive at the time, so Alfa Romeo only managed to ship 3,925 units over seven years. Still, rarity — especially when it comes to Alfa Romeos — equals near-guaranteed immortality. Despite being challenging to maintain, the Montreal is a sought-after classic today, with secondhand prices commonly reaching over $100,000.
1975 to 1982 Ford Granada (bestseller to forgotten)
During the 1970s, Mercedes-Benz was the undisputed king of the automotive world. Some might dispute this idea, but even Ford admitted it by doing everything it could to closely match its new mid-size Granada to Mercedes-Benz's offering at the time — the W114/W115. Of course, the idea was that the Granada was significantly cheaper, yet it still somewhat resembled its rivals. It was bigger, too, and it boasted a premium Granada Ghia trim that came with a wood-laden interior. Meanwhile, the entry-level model was sold at a lower price than a VW Rabbit. The result: over 2 million units sold in only seven years — more than the W114/W115's 1.9 million.
Predictably, like so many Malaise-era cars, the sales had nothing to do with quality — the Granada wasn't built to the same standard as a German car. It was spacious inside, but not nearly as refined or fast as a Mercedes-Benz. The base model was equipped with a 3.3-liter inline-six good for 75 horsepower and a 0-60 time of 19 seconds. For comparison, a 1975 Mercedes-Benz 230 packed a 2.3-liter inline-four with 93 horsepower and sprinted to 60 in 15.4 seconds.
Ironically, the Granada's larger 4.1-liter option produced only 70 horsepower and sprinted to 60 in 21.3 seconds. 5.0-liter and 5.8-liter V8s were also available, but with 129 and 143 horsepower, respectively, they weren't exactly rocket ships. They also didn't help the Granada become a high-priced classic; in 2003, a Granada Ghia 351 was listed for only $9,000.
1974 to 1975 BMW 2002 Turbo (flop to classic)
The 2002 Turbo is so legendary in BMW circles that people often forget it was a sales flop. BMW only produced 1,672 units over a 1.5-year production span, because of — you guessed it — bad timing. Due to the 1973 oil crisis, buyers didn't want anything to do with performance cars at that time. And yes, this included European buyers, as the 2002 Turbo wasn't sold in the U.S. The car's aggressive design also didn't help much, although the Motorsport tri-color stripes from the "BMW M" logo, widebody treatment, and rear lip spoiler look cool from today's perspective. Perhaps the most striking detail was the optional "2002 Turbo" script written in reverse on the front lip. That way, drivers upfront could identify it immediately when looking through the rearview mirror.
The BMW 2002 Turbo looked almost like a tuner car, and it performed like one, too. That's mainly thanks to the 2.0-liter turbocharged four-cylinder engine — the first of its kind in a European car — good for 170 horsepower and 177 pound-feet of torque. It was paired to a four-speed manual, though buyers could option a five-speed unit with a dogleg first gear (here's why it has that name). Thanks to the curb weight of only 2,381 pounds, this relatively small engine propelled the 2002 Turbo to 60 mph in a brisk 7 seconds. The lightness also helped with handling, making the 2002 Turbo feel nimble and involving in twists. Yes, the engine had a massive turbo lag, but that just added to its character. And character sells, as 2002 Turbos now average $121,714 (via Classic).
1971 to 1980 Morris Marina (bestseller to forgotten)
The British auto industry was struggling with subpar build quality and dated engineering way before the Malaise era. After World War II, when American automakers led the industry with well-engineered, powerful cars, the U.K. competed with woefully underpowered cars like the Morris Minor. Worse still, things didn't change much with the 1971 Morris Marina, British Leyland's new C-segment model designed to compete directly with cars like the Ford Cortina and Hillman Avenger.
This should've put the automaker back on the map, but it used the same front axle (lever-arm dampers and torsion arm) from the Morris Minor. As a result, the Morris Marina didn't handle particularly well, with particularly bad lift-off issues during rain – even at lower speeds. Early models also suffered from build quality issues, though at least the 1.3-liter and 1.8-liter engines were reliable. And they all offered decent interior room, too. Yes, this means it excelled at the boring stuff — but buyers were happy with that, with 1.1 million Marinas sold from 1971 to 1980. That's even more impressive when considering the U.K. car market is several times smaller than the U.S. one.
Of course, Marina's commercial triumph wasn't enough to give it a classic status. These cars still appear at auctions in the U.K., but they don't sell for much. The most anyone has dared to pay for a Marina is £14,500 (~ $19,600) at a 2025 auction (per British Car Classics). And with fewer than 500 Marinas remaining registered in the U.K., that's hardly an impressive result.