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In one of his 1984 Chrysler TV spots, then-chairman Lee Iacocca declared that in the auto industry, "Product comes first." It remains as true today as it was then -- while there is a popular misconception in some sectors of the auto industry that you can become profitable simply by cutting your operating costs to the bone, the truth is that a car company lives or dies by the strength of its products.
That was the hard truth that Chrysler faced in 1981, as it trepidatiously introduced the models that would determine its fate: the "K-cars" and the new Imperial.
NEW BLOOD
When we last left Chrysler, it was 1981, and the company had just launched the products that would determine its fate. Federally guaranteed loans, brutal cost cutting, and a host of concessions from workers, suppliers, and creditors had kept Chrysler's doors open, but none of those things would matter if Chrysler had no competitive vehicles to sell.
Chrysler's truly gargantuan cars had died after 1978. What remained in 1980 was an array of downsized rear-drive cars -- the intermediate M-body sedans (Chrysler LeBaron/Dodge Diplomat), the J-body coupes (Chrysler Cordoba/Dodge Mirada), and the big R-body sedans (Chrysler Newport/Dodge St. Regis/Plymouth Gran Fury) -- along with the front-wheel-drive L-bodies (Dodge Omni/Plymouth Horizon) and a number of Mitsubishi products. The R-bodies were on their way out, and would be gone after 1981. The M-body cars lingered through 1989, mostly for police and taxi use.
Chrysler's most important new products for 1981 were the compact K-cars, the Dodge Aries and Plymouth Reliant. The two versions were nearly identical, save for grilles, badging, and trim; Chrysler no longer had the money to differentiate them more than that. Twenty years earlier, Lee Iacocca had lambasted Robert McNamara's boxy, compact Ford Falcon, convincing Henry Ford II to write off the $37 million development cost of the even smaller, front-wheel-drive Ford Cardinal. Now, he was betting heavily on a car not much bigger than the Cardinal, and even boxier than the Falcon.
The Reliant and Aries were extremely conservative cars in every way: square-rigged and upright, long on space efficiency, short on sex appeal. Their engineering was reasonably contemporary, with front-wheel drive, unitary construction, and Chrysler's first modern four-cylinder engine (a bigger Mitsubishi four was optional). They lacked some of the features of import rivals like the Honda Accord, such as a five-speed manual gearbox or an independent rear suspension; in compensation, they were substantially cheaper. They were slow but frugal, with reasonable passenger and cargo room and admirable fuel economy. The Reliant and Aries were not great cars, but as no-frills basic transportation, they were decent value.
The Reliant and Aries were little changed over their eight-year history, although they got a bit more power, an optional five-speed manual, and a few other refinements. This is a post-1985 model, which is distinguishable by a slightly restyled grille and front clip. (Photo © 2007 IFCAR; released to the public domain by the photographer)
Contrary to popular belief, the K-cars were hardly a runaway sales success, and they got off to a slow start. Part of the problem was that Chrysler advertising stressed the low, low prices, but most early examples at dealerships were heavily optioned, running up the sticker prices well out of bargain territory. They were also hurt by lingering fears about Chrysler's viability, still an open question in 1981. Even with the low prices, Chrysler had to resort to generous rebates to move the metal. Combined Reliant-Aries sales for 1981 were a bit over 306,000, and many of those sales apparently came at the expense of the smaller Omni/Horizon, which wasn't a great deal cheaper than the K-cars.
The Imperial was powered by Chrysler's ubiquitous 318 (5.2 L) V8, linked to a three-speed TorqueFlite automatic. The 318 had a unique continuous-flow electronic fuel injection system, which gave it 140 horsepower (104 kW), compared to 130 hp (97 kW) for its carbureted contemporaries. The injection system proved troublesome, and dealers converted a fair number of cars to carburetors. Very tall gearing (final drive ratio was only 2.24) kept Imperial in the slow lane, although you could eventually reach a top speed of 103 mph (165 kph).
TIME FOR IMPERIAL
If the K-cars were all about unpretentious value, Chrysler's other new release of 1981, the revived Imperial, was something else entirely. For a company so close to financial collapse that it had sought federal relief and substantial sacrifices by its workers, releasing an overstuffed, overpriced prestige car took serious chutzpah. Iacocca was uncharacteristically apologetic about the Imperial, firmly asserting that it hadn't been his idea, and that it had been too late for him to stop it.
The Imperial was approved by Iacocca's predecessor, John J. Riccardo, but to our eyes, it seems very much Iacocca's sort of car. Like Lincoln's popular Continental Mark series, which Iacocca had launched back in 1968, it was a big, two-door personal coupe, with a long nose, a short deck, and a faux Rolls-Royce grille. It carried a truly imperial price tag; at $18,311 ($1,000 more with the optional moonroof), it cost as much as three K-cars.
The standard alloy wheels, with their red center caps, are one of the Imperial's more attractive features. Buyers could specify fake wire wheelcovers as an alternative, although apparently relatively few did so. Brakes were not an Imperial strong point -- bigger discs all around would have helped, but it had the same disc/drum brakes found in the J-body and M-body cars, which were some 500 pounds (227 kg) lighter.
The Imperial nameplate had been introduced back in 1926 as Chrysler's top-of-the-line model. In 1955, the corporation had made Imperial a separate division, hoping to better establish it as a prestige make, akin to Lincoln or Cadillac. Its sales had never been very strong, and Chrysler had pulled the plug in 1975. Still, the cash-strapped Chrysler management of the late seventies had salivated at the profits generated by the rival Cadillac Eldorado and Lincoln Mark series. With the bargain-basement pricing of the Omni/Horizon and the K-cars, the prospect of a profitable new flagship was particularly enticing -- much of the Imperial's daunting sticker price was a fat profit margin.
CORDOBA IN DRAG
The new Imperial was substantially smaller than its Brobdingnagian predecessor, based closely on the J-body Chrysler Cordoba. The Cordoba had been launched back in 1975 as Chrysler's first real entrée into the popular personal-luxury market. It's remembered today mostly for its commercials, which featured actor Ricardo Montalban extolling its "rich Corinthian leather." The Cordoba was downsized for 1980, becoming a derivative of the M-body sedans and the ill-fated Plymouth Volare/Dodge Aspen. The Imperial was distinguished by unique, heavier-gauge sheet metal, but its dimensions were nearly identical to those of the Cordoba, as were its suspension, brakes, and running gear. Its main point of mechanical distinction was fuel injection for its standard V8, Chrysler's first attempt at electronic fuel injection since the ill-fated Bendix Electrojector of 1958.
At 213.3 inches (5,417 mm) long, the Imperial was about 3 inches (76 mm) longer than the Cordoba whose platform it shared, although they had the same 112.7-inch (2,862-mm) wheelbase. Those dimensions made it roughly the size of a mid-seventies Ford Thunderbird (before Ford downsized the 'bird in 1977), although it was fully half a ton lighter than the older T-Bird.
In the October 1974 issue of Car and Driver, GM styling chief Bill Mitchell told editor Brock Yates that most Ford products looked liked thrown-together compilations of other cars, something that Mitchell attributed to the fact the influence of the sales force on the styling department. Ford's number-one sales guy was now running Chrysler, so perhaps it was no surprise that the new Chrysler flagship was a similar agglomeration of luxury-car clichés. From the front, its razor-edged fenders and ersatz Rolls-Royce grille were a self-consciously futuristic update of the 1969 Lincoln Continental Mark III. Its bustleback tail, meanwhile, bore an alarming (although apparently coincidental) resemblance to the contemporary Cadillac Seville. (Stylist Bob Marcks claimed recently that the Imperial was based on a turbine-powered concept car he did for Chrysler in the mid-seventies, although Marcks was not involved in the design of the Imperial.) The results were striking, if not particularly tasteful.
The Imperial's lines are more squared off than the earlier Lincoln Mark III and Mark IV, but it is very much of the same genre, from the "power bulge" hood to the Rolls-Royce grille. It may also owe a certain debt to the Aston Martin Lagonda, which debuted several years earlier. Not quite visible at this distance is the plastic "crystal" hood ornament, designed by the jeweler Cartier.
Inside, the Imperial was pure science fiction, with Chrysler's first digital instrument panel. Perhaps inspired by the wild Aston Martin Lagonda, it had enough buttons and electronic displays to make an F-14 radar operator feel at home; Imperial advertising modestly proclaimed it "an electronic marvel." Lest anyone find its high-tech trappings too antiseptic, the interior was dressed up with color-keyed Mark Cross leather upholstery and carpet so plush it resembled fake fur. As a crowning touch, a gaudy Cartier crystal medallion was set into the steering wheel boss.
OL' BLUE EYES
Iacocca confidently predicted that Chrysler could sell 25,000 Imperials a year, the maximum output of the Windsor, Ontario production line. He also enlisted his old friend Frank Sinatra to sing a jingle for the car, "It's Time for Imperial," a favor Sinatra reportedly performed for a token fee of $1 (plus an early-production car). Old Blue Eyes also lent his name to the limited-edition "FS" package, which featured special "Glacier Blue" paint, matching interior trim, and a special Mark Cross leather case packed with cassette tapes of Sinatra's greatest hits.
The Imperial was received gloomily by the press, which saw it as the wrong car at the wrong time. In an era of downsizing, it was unfashionably bulky; its heavy-duty body structure and everything-but-the-kitchen-sink standard equipment had swelled its curb weight to an even two tons. Even with the fuel-injected V8, the Imperial's weight and ultra-tall gearing made acceleration a leisurely affair. With a 0-60 mph (0-97 kph) time of around 13 seconds, it could potentially be outrun by a manually shifted Plymouth Reliant, and its passing times were similarly sluggish. The Imperial's suspension and tires were calibrated for a pillow-soft ride, but it lost its composure over sharp bumps or broken pavement. Its stopping power was also poor, reflecting the fact that the brakes hadn't been changed from the much-lighter Cordoba.
The B-pillar is almost entirely covered by a massive "coach lamp," which, along with opera windows and padded vinyl tops, were among the leading fascination of seventies American stylists. Note another of the Cartier crystals set into the center of the opera lamp. The crystals are vaguely pentagonal, to resemble Chrysler's Pentastar logo; we find them thoroughly tacky.
Given the state of the economy -- not to mention that of Chrysler itself -- the sales projections bordered on delusional. Even in its best year, Imperial sales had fallen short of 25,000, and there was no evidence that buyers were clamoring for its return. Moreover, even its better-established rivals were not doing well. Cadillac sales were down more than 40%, and the downsized Lincoln Mark VI had just fallen almost 50%. Imperial production for 1981 tallied only 8,113 units (including Canadian sales).
Chrysler blundered further by hiking the Imperial's price by a whopping $2,677 for 1982. The price increase depressed whatever demand there may have been, and sales plummeted to a meager 2,717. Before long, the company was offering rebates of up to $2,000. For 1983, the price was cut back to $18,688. Only 1,555 more cars were sold before Chrysler finally pulled the plug. (Sinatra fans may be dismayed to learn that a mere 516 of the 12,385 Imperials built had the FS package.)
 
The bustleback tail is intended to evoke the tacked-on accessory trunks of prewar Classics. The look, which proved controversial, was first introduced on Cadillac's new-for-1980 Seville (bottom), which debuted about a year before the Imperial. Chrysler insisted that the resemblance was coincidental, which, based on the lead times involved, may have been true; we have yet to puzzle out that particular story.
A LONG WINTER
Despite the new K-cars and the Imperial, Chrysler's sales figures for 1981 were depressing. They were better than 1980, but they were still barely half those of 1977, which was far from Chrysler's best year. Little surprise, then, that Chrysler's losses for 1981 totaled $475.6 million. 1982 sales were even worse, although cost cutting had lowered the corporation's break-even point by more than 50%, and held operating losses to $69 million.
The Imperial proved to be a dead end. It was canceled after 1983, along with the slow-selling J-body coupes on which it was based (neither the Cordoba nor the related Dodge Mirada had sold well, either). The Reliant and Aries survived with minimal changes through 1989, but they managed to sell at least 200,000 units a year through 1988 -- respectable, if not outstanding.
The real significance of the K-cars was the host of derivatives they spawned. The humble K-car platform's many adaptations included:
- The mid-size Chrysler E-class (LeBaron) and Dodge 400/600, which included the first American convertibles since 1976
- The "Euro-style" H-body five-door hatchbacks (Chrysler LeBaron GTS and Dodge Lancer)
- The sporty G-body Dodge Daytona and Chrysler Laser coupes
- The bizarre Chrysler Executive Sedan and Limousine
- The compact P-body Plymouth Sundance and Dodge Shadow (and their sporty Shelby derivatives), originally intended to replace the Omni/Horizon
- The E-body Dodge Spirit, Plymouth Acclaim, and Chrysler LeBaron
- The "near-luxury" AC-body Dodge Dynasty and Chrysler New Yorker
- The luxury-oriented Y-body Chrysler Fifth Avenue and Imperial
- The pricey Italian-American Chrysler TC by Maserati.
By far the most important K-car spin-offs, though, were the T-115 minivans (Dodge Caravan, Plymouth Voyager, and Chrysler Town & Country), which were introduced in January 1984, and proved to be far more important than the K-cars themselves in restoring Chrysler to financial health.
Together, the K-cars and the ill-fated Imperial make an interesting point about the importance of forward-looking product development. When the K-cars were developed in the seventies, they were extremely controversial within Chrysler. Their front-wheel-drive platform was expensive to develop, cost around $700 million, and Chrysler management favored a more conservative, rear-drive alternative, the H-body, which would have been about $300 million cheaper. (It likely would have been similar to Ford's Fox platform, which spawned the Fairmont and Mustang III.) The H-body would have been the safe choice, but in retrospect, the K-car platform proved to be the best investment Chrysler ever made. By contrast, the Imperial must have seemed like low-hanging fruit, an easy way to milk some additional profits out of an existing platform, but it was a resounding dud.
In part one of our article on the Chrysler bailout, we mentioned that, contrary to popular belief, it was John Riccardo who approved the K-cars, not Iacocca. Had the choice actually fallen to Iacocca, he might well have made the same decision -- he and Hal Sperlich had fought and lost a very similar battle at Ford over a K-car-like proposal called the Tiger platform -- but by the mid-eighties, Iacocca was as resistant to new platforms as the management of the Riccardo era had been. Spinning off new variations on the K-car architecture was far cheaper than creating wholly new platforms, and some of the spin-offs were certainly clever, but Chrysler's lineup was increasingly characterized by an overwhelming sense of déjà vu. Later in the eighties, Car and Driver compared Chrysler's cars to McDonald's hamburgers: you could have them in a variety of packages and configurations, but it was still the same old burger patty underneath. That sameness would eventually cost Chrysler dearly, as we will see next week.
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NOTES ON SOURCE
Sources for this article included Brock Yates, "Detroit's Shattered Love Affair" by Brock Yates, Car and Driver, October 1974; Mike Kuepper, "Driving Impression: Chrysler Imperial: It may be expensive, but it sure is big," Car and Driver, November 1980; David E. Davis, Jr., "Chrysler Imperial: Return with us now to those thrilling days of yesteryear, Car and Driver, January 1981; Jim Dunne and Ed Jacobs, "Three classy coupes," Popular Science, April 1981); and Jim Smith, "It's Time for Imperial 1981-1983," WPC News, July 1983. We also made extensive use of that Imperial Club website's "(Chrysler) Imperials by Year" pages (http://www.imperialclub.com/Yr/index.htm, accessed 25 November 2008), which provided production figures, manufacturer specifications, and even details of the Frank Sinatra package. Some additional details came from the Auto Editors of Consumer Guide, Encyclopedia of American Cars: Over 65 Years of Automotive History (Lincolnwood, IL: Publications International, 1996).
We later updated the article to reflect the information in the article "Bob Marcks, Designer at Studebaker, Ford, and Chrysler" on Gary Smith's website (22 June 2009, Dean's Garage, http://deansgarage.com/2009/bob-marcks-designer-at-studebaker-ford-and-chrysler/, accessed 11 November 2009).
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I'd say everything what's good is rare, so what that they made zillion of J-body cars when they were and always be worthless!