German performance cars have a certain something in their DNA that exudes from every square inch. Its a special kind of solidity of purpose, of gestalt that n other country’s car-makers can seem to capture: ripped and powerful as an Olympic athlete, yet as understated as a steely eyed investment banker. On paper, the Z8 may look like a steroid injected Z3, but it’s nothing of the sort. The artistic body lines elicit a hint of retro-Italian ancestry, but it’s inside where, this BMW smacks of an early 60’s carrozzeria. From the banjo spoke steering wheel to the off-line center gauge pod, and from the sun glaring black dash panels to the quirky ergonomics, it’s eminently obvious that, for the first time with any German car in decades, function followed form at a considerable distance.
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