It's no secret by this point that I despise most of the Italian cars I've driven here for Car of the Week. They always seem to have some baffling, inexplicable quirk to them, like having an asinine obsession of quoting their dry mass, an addiction to understeer like Lamborghini, or just sheer, utter bloodlust like the Stratos and Countach. I groan internally every time an Italian car gets chosen, because it's almost a guarantee that it'd drive like like an ice skater on an oil spill. Hopefully you can imagine my surprise then, when Alfa came out with a tiny, carbon tubbed, RMR competitor with crosshairs aimed directly at Lotuses and Porsches.
Not only does it drive rather well counter to expectations, I actually find it rather hard to fault the 4C on the track. It's incredibly neutral, corners obscenely flat, with a front end that responds delightfully linearly with the wheel and pedals, has extremely short and rather close
gearing, and has a healthy powerband from its tiny 1.7L turbo 4 Cylinder. But that is not to say that it's without its share of Italian quirks—The engine's
powerband encourages drivers to avoid the last 500 or so revs as the engine dips off near redline, but third and fourth are so far apart that you have to rev out third to get the most of it, meaning you have to short shift the car in every gear
except 3rd. But, much more damning than that is that there's just
some Italian quirk about the differential of the car that makes it extremely nervous and snappy when on power. Even with TCS enabled, the car simply can't put down power without first swinging sideways, which it'll do at the drop of a hat with no warning or transition. Granted, it's not something a quick flick of opposite lock or two can't fix, but it really inspires a lot of fear rather than confidence from behind the wheel, which is the complete opposite of what I'm looking for in a sports car. Hell, I clench my butt cheeks every time I get on the power past the apex of a turn, and by the end of race day, my wrists were hurting from the ritualistic snap corrections I had to do with the steering wheel. It wouldn't be that surprising in something like, say, a Hellcat, but a 235HP car? Yeah, nah, not my thing.
While Italian cars are usually objectively terrible, but are loaded with a certain charm and personality that endears them, the 4C I find has the exact opposite problem, in that, objectively speaking, it's really good, but I find driving it an extremely flat, emotionless experience. I never once thought to myself, "oh wow, this is so fun, I want to keep driving this!", but rather, "oh, hm, yeah, this works, just have to be careful". I drove the 1997 MR2 GT-S and 2017 A110 on race day. Neither had the pace of the 4C, but the MR2 in particular I liked a lot more than the 4C, because not only was it much more consistent and stable, I actually found myself playing with it because of that. The A110 is... almost exactly like the 4C with some sliders moved around: more power, more mass, less oversteer, though still present.
Now, if we had an Exige or a production Cayman in the game, it'd be a lot easier to judge an Alfa 4C. As things are now though, I can only say I really can't find my groove in a 4C, and I find it an extremely stressful (and painful) car to drive. If you have better chemistry with it though, I can absolutely see it being a be all, end all benchmark car.