Reliant Scimitar SS1: Michelotti's last roadster and the bargain of the 1980s (1984–1995)

Some cars fail on their merits; the Reliant Scimitar SS1 failed on its looks and has been quietly vindicated ever since. Launched in 1984 as Tamworth’s affordable roadster, it carried the last design from Giovanni Michelotti’s studio, a chassis the road testers loved, and, in Nissan-turbocharged 1800Ti form, performance that humbled cars at twice the price. Barely two thousand found buyers, which today makes the SS1 one of the rarest genuine bargains left anywhere in British sports-car ownership.

The right idea at the wrong angle

By the early 1980s the classic British roadster was extinct, the MGB and Spitfire gone with no successors, and Reliant spotted the gap years before Mazda proved it existed. The SS1 was the right idea executed awkwardly: Michelotti died before the shape was resolved, and the production car’s angular, mismatched panels hid a genuinely sophisticated layout, all-independent suspension on a galvanised chassis, glassfibre and plastic panels that shrugged off car-park life, and honest Ford CVH power in 1.3 and 1.6 forms. Those who drove it praised it; too few looked past the nose to try.

The 1800Ti: the sting in the tail

In 1985 Reliant dropped in the turbocharged 1.8 from Nissan’s Silvia Turbo and created the SS1 1800Ti: around 135 bhp in a sub-tonne roadster, nought to sixty in under eight seconds and a genuine 125 mph. Period testers relished the sight of an affordable Tamworth two-seater worrying far grander machinery, and the 1800Ti remains the collector’s pick, rare, rapid and still cheap for what it does.

SST, Sabre and the MX-5 problem

Reliant knew the styling was the problem and paid William Towns to fix it: the 1990 SST wore smoother one-piece mouldings, and the 1992 Scimitar Sabre refreshed the theme with a name borrowed from the company’s 1960s sports cars. The engineering underneath stayed sound throughout. But in 1989 the Mazda MX-5 had arrived, doing the classic roadster brilliantly with none of the rough edges, and the little Scimitar’s chance was gone. Production ended in 1995 alongside the company’s declining fortunes; the badge, at least, went out on a worthy car.

What an SS1 is like to drive

Every period road test of the Reliant SS1 reads the same way: apologies for the styling, then genuine surprise at the chassis. The all-independent suspension was tuned with unusual care for so cheap a car, and the result is a supple ride with grip and balance that flatter the driver, closer in spirit to a Lotus than to the crude kit-car feel the looks suggest. The unassisted steering is quick and honest, the driving position low and snug, and with so little weight even the 1.3-litre car keeps up with modern traffic while the 1.6 is genuinely brisk.

The 1800Ti adds the drama. Boost arrives with a period-turbo whoosh and the little car simply takes off, and because the chassis was engineered with margin to spare, it carries the extra pace without losing its manners. Wind in the hair, rear-wheel drive, a proper manual gearbox and a kerb weight under a tonne: the ingredients read like a recipe the industry forgot, and the little Reliant serves them up for the price of an ordinary used hatchback.

Buying an SS1, SST or Sabre today

The good news dominates: the chassis was galvanised from new, so the terminal rust that kills cheap classics is rare, and the body panels neither rust nor much care about weather. Inspect instead for crazed or cracked mouldings and poor panel fit, which is original but varies, tired cabins, and the health of the drivetrain: the Ford engines are simple and cheap, the Nissan turbo strong but deserving of evidence of oil changes and boost-system care. Parts specific to the car, trim and lamps especially, need club contacts and patience.

Prices remain a quiet joke of their own: usable cars from about £2,500, good ones £4,000 to £6,500, the best 1800Tis a little more. The turbo cars deserve a compression check before money moves. Survivor numbers are low enough that patience beats haste: watch the club channels rather than the open classifieds, and be ready to travel, because the right car is rarely the nearest one. Insurance is cheap, parts that Ford and Nissan shared are cheaper, and the galvanised chassis means an SS1 stored badly usually survives it, which cannot be said of many 1980s sports cars.

That buys rear-driven, open-topped 1980s motoring with rarity guaranteed, a spiritual sibling to the grand Scimitar at a fraction of even its modest money. The era’s context is in the cars of the 1980s. For the price of a sensible hatchback, the SS1 remains open-air Lotus-adjacent engineering with nobody else at the meet driving one.

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