Review 2007 Mazdaspeed 3

WHEN they introduced the Mazda 3 sedan and four-door hatchback-cum-wagon in 2003, the Mazda people had a spiel that went something like this: “The kids these days! They want everything! They’re paying 16 grand but they want a mini-Mercedes, so that’s what we have to give them. Even though, back in our day, entry-level cars had cardboard steering wheels, and if you wanted a sunroof you had to wait for a rust hole to form above your head — which usually took only a couple of weeks.”

The basic Mazda 3 really does offer everything you’d reasonably need in a daily driver: tasteful, high-quality interior design and materials; plenty of space; and high-end options like a Bose stereo and a navigation system.

The 3 is based on the same platform as the Volvo S40, and it drives like a more expensive car; quiet and refined on the highway, composed and willing on twisty roads. When people tell me they’ve bought a Mazda 3, I congratulate them heartily.

The stock 3, even with its wimpiest engine, is a car that encourages enthusiastic driving. In fact, a couple of years ago I was banned from the test-drive area at a Mazda Rev It Up autocross event when I got a bit too frisky with a 3 sedan and committed flagrant orange-cone-icide.

So it was with no little glee that I took the keys to a 2007 Mazdaspeed 3, which is not only the most powerful version of the 3, but, with a top speed of more than 150 m.p.h., the fastest car Mazda makes, period.

The Mazdaspeed 3 is built on the hatch/wagon version of the 3’s platform, and retains all the usefulness of that configuration. The visual signifiers of its abilities are subtle — most of the front sheet metal has been reworked to accommodate the breathing and cooling demands of the direct-injection turbocharged 4-cylinder engine, yet there’s no towering hood scoop or Airbus-sourced rear wing. (Yes, I’m talking to you, Mitsubishi Evo and Subaru WRX STi.)

The aesthetic value of the Mazdaspeed 3’s smooth underbody tray will be lost on everyone but the guys in the pit at Jiffy Lube.

The fun bits of this car are all secreted away beneath the conservative skin. The 2.3-liter turbocharged beast that lives between the front wheels puts down 263 horsepower and a fairly insane 280 pound-feet of torque. (For comparison, the uprated motor in regular Mazda 3s makes 156 horsepower and 150 pound-feet of torque.)

A limited-slip differential helps convert that energy to motion, and 18-inch wheels and low-profile tires, combined with a lower, stiffer suspension, ensure that the chassis can cope with higher cornering speeds.

Inside, you get heavily bolstered Mazda-speed-embroidered seats to hold you in place while you row through the six forward gears of the manual transmission. The finished product is a drastically more capable version of its former self, something like the transition from a BMW 5 Series to an M5.

But most other factory tuner cars — from BMW’s M Works, Mercedes-Benz’s AMG division, Chrysler’s SRT, Audi’s S- and RS, even Subaru’s STi — base their firebreathers on rear-drive or all-wheel-drive chassis.

That is not a coincidence. Putting a lot of horsepower into a front-drive car is like pouring Scotch bonnet pepper sauce on your corn flakes. The result may be exciting, but you’ll surely end up questioning whether it was a good idea.

Here’s what happens when you floor the gas pedal in a Mazdaspeed 3: If you’re steering anywhere except straight, the engine-control electronics withhold the full monty of thrust. Once you’re steering dead ahead, full boost comes on and whacks the front tires with furious vengeance.

New-school turbocharged engines, like BMW’s 3-liter 6, strive to disguise their forced induction with creamy linearity. The mandate is to mimic a larger, naturally aspirated engine so you can’t tell you’re driving a turbo.

The Mazdaspeed 3, on the other hand, is joyful in its turbo-ness, trading driveability for glorious, unadulterated power. When you floor the gas, the little 4-cylinder takes a beat or two to build up some revs, and then the turbo hits so suddenly that the tires start jackhammering the pavement with wheelspin — and that’s with the traction control on.

That’s how quick, and how hard, the power hits: it outruns its own electronics, which would, you’d think, know what to expect. If you nail the takeoff just right, however, 60 m.p.h. can be yours in less than six seconds.