Mercedes-Benz SL55 vs. Dodge Viper, DUB Magazine, Issue 25
When is it fair to compare two cars whose prices differ by almost $40,000? When the cars are as shamelessly audacious as the $85,295 Dodge Viper SRT-10 and the $123,300 Mercedes-Benz AMG SL55. Because these two make no apologies for their larger-than-life attitudes, their Herculean horsepower, or their greater-than-thou demeanors, we've instigated this tête-à-tête of fuel guzzling and tire shredding supremacy.
They may be as different as night and day, but their raisons d'etre are essentially identical: to pump the egos of their owners with staggering, undistilled excess. They can both be classified as transportation in the same way that Castro and Mandela are both political leaders: they get the job done. only using completely different methods.
Dodge's top-feeding hot rod uses brute force, raw torque, and massive displacement to spin its humongous, road-hogging tires; if the Viper were a tool, it would be a cast-iron pipe, wielded in the hands of a mafia thug ready to bust a kneecap. When Daimler-Chrysler brass cleared me to borrow the creature, I received what was affectionately referred to as the "mom speech". 'Mom' said, "Now, I've driven lots of cars-Ferraris, Lamborghinis, you name it," proving instantly to be a woman after my heart. She continued to say, "Nothing gets my heart going like a Viper." Warnings of the car's aptly named, snake-like tendencies ensued: explosive power, a sudden ability to turn on you and spin, all without the safety net of traction control or the decency to ask before it decides to detach itself from the road. Point taken, the domestic beast was delivered to this suddenly cautious writer and driven relatively gingerly for the first few days.
The crude, plasticky interior is consistent with the message that this car delivers speed, not sumptuousness. Like a steroidal linebacker, the finer points don't matter much: the car drives like hell and scores every time the pedal hits the floor. In spite of 8.3 liters of gurgling, belching, 10-cylinder power, the Viper has a surprising ability to stay glued to the road. The night before I had to return the car, tired of pussyfooting around the subject, I was determined to break the Viper loose. Like a midnight moonshiner, I lowered the manual top, exposed myself to the stars (and local law enforcement), and slithered across the winding backroads of Pasadena, revving, chirping, and generally looking for trouble. Sure enough, the Viper was willing to lay down satisfyingly thick, black patches of rubber when provoked: after all, 500 horsepower and 525 lb.-ft. of torque will always beat expensive, 345mm rear tires any day. While it was certainly entertaining enough to drive at low speeds, garnering more than enough attention via bulbously masculine curves and take-no-prisoners road presence, the Viper's kick ass qualities were maximized when its truck-sized engine roared and screamed the way the muscle car gods intend it to. The Viper is motorcycle-fast, stops on a dime, and handles surprisingly well thanks to stiff, jostling suspension and the aforementioned, monstrously chunky tires. Low-tech muscle was never so sexy.
With 493 horsepower, 516 lb-ft of torque, and 800 more pounds of structural and technological loose ends than the Viper, the SL55 plays savvy skier to the Viper's lugheaded linebacker. The Benz's supercharged, 5.4 liter V8 takes the velvet hammer approach to acceleration, producing sublimely smooth thrust accented with an aural cherry on top in the form of an angry but muffled supercharger growl. Though power is nearly identical to the Viper, acronyms like ASR, ESP, and ABC work overtime to make the car behave and the driver look Formula 1-worthy, while the supercharged V8 produces a seemingly endless supply of horsepower and torque. No "mom" speech accompanies the Benz because its computers do all the babysitting; though the powerplant is itching to vaporize the rear tires, vehicle dynamics are kept electronically safe and sane, just the way the Germans like it. In fact, the SL55's tremendous road adhesion, minimal body roll, and exemplary braking are so stratospherically capable that one wonders what the car can't do.
While Viper drivers busily wrestle a baseball-sized shift knob through the gate, Benzers can contemplate Dow fluctuations as the SpeedShift five-speed tranny shuffles gears like a Vegas cardshark. Viper owners must manually manhandle the folding soft top, while Mercedes drivers can flick a switch and make the alcantara-lined hardtop disappear. In either ride, the top goes down in less time than it takes to subtract $85,295 from $123,300, the two staggeringly different sums it costs to gain entry into these rarified cliques. Though the Mercedes easily wins in the etiquette and charm department with its AMG-powered vision of perfection, the Viper is the heartbreaker, the unrepentant, bad to the bone muscle car.
If the Viper is Quentin Tarantino-brutal and cartoonishly violent, the SL55 is Ridley Scott: every bit as dramatic, only brainier, with layers of complexity and refinement. If the Viper addles up to you, straddles you, then leaves you without your kidneys in the morning, the SL55 whispers into your ear, charms your clothes off, and makes off with your stock portfolio. How would you prefer to be seduced?
Basem Wasef
info@basemwasef.com
323.791.8560