Vauxhall Monaro VXR 6.0 Review – Zero XXXX Given
In the early 2000s Vauxhall’s image was in need of a shot in the arm. Luckily for us, they dialled up some V8 thunder from Down Under, as John Bee reports
Badge engineering is one of the most depressing realities of the car manufacturing universe. The phrase immediately conjures up images of soulless white good hatchbacks comfort braking their way to the Post Office and unsympathetic accountants typing fat profit margins into spreadsheets. In our trying times, even flagship sportscars arenât immune â step forwards the Toyota Supra. But occasionally, something rebellious sneaks its way past the bean counters and completely turns the concept on its head. One such car is the Vauxhall Monaro VXR.
Itâs a curious melting pot of nationalities, the Monaro. Built down under in Australia on a Holden chassis, powered by a Chevrolet âsmall blockâ V8 and in this case, lumbered with the most uninspiring of British badges. If it was a burger it would have a double Detroit patty, a large dollop of Vegemite sauce and be smothered in smart price cheddar cheese. Depending on what part of the colonies you call home, it also goes by three different names. If your ancestors were prisoners, itâs the HSV GTO Coupe. If your late relatives got a bit upset about taxation on tea, then itâs the Pontiac GTO. There was even a briefly mooted attempt at reviving the Bitter marque on a re-bodied Monaro in Germany, but it didnât gain enough traction with investors.
Youâll no doubt be keen to point out that Vauxhall has previous â the lithe VX220 and ludicrous Lotus Carlton spring to mind. But where the VX220 went to great lengths to distinguish itself from its Elise foundation with retuned suspension, inhouse powertrains and a distinctive rebody, the Monaro received absolutely nothing other than a set of Griffin badges. And this is a very good thing, because the HSV in the above paragraph stands for Holden Special Vehicles, an offspring of GMâs Australian arm that likes to go motor racing.
At first glance, this big Aussie brute appears to have missed a corner at Mount Panorama and got lost in the Lancashire countryside. V8 Supercar features like its massive AP Racing brakes, cavernous bonnet nostrils and long boot spoiler are giveaways this isnât your run-of-the-mill sports coupĂ©. A chic Audi TT rival, this is not. It has serious presence, this car, and I canât help but admire its menace â especially painted in sinister Phantom Black.
Things get really intimidating when you crank the Chevrolet Corvette-sourced V8 into life and everyone in a five-mile radius becomes aware that youâre here to cause some mischief. It takes a split second to turn six litres of freedom before the LS2 thunders away into a chop-chop idle that shakes the entire car.
Blip the throttle and you may well trigger the Met Office into giving a severe storm warning.
That savage of an engine dominates the car, helped by what are, in my opinion, must-have modifications. A Brian Tooley Racing Stage 2 cam gives it the lumpy idle it should have had from factory and a Wortec exhaust is responsible for the amplified anger coming from (a supercharged variant matching) 483bhp at the flywheel. If you want a car that flies under the Doppler radar, look elsewhere.
Slip behind the wheel and the intimidation factor switches to hospitality. Here the Bathurst comparison fades and the car shows a different, softer side. The electrically adjustable seats are like leather armchairs â comfortable, supportive, and perfectly suited for covering long distances. As soon as you turn a wheel, the carâs grand tourer credentials come to the forefront. The steering is low geared, taking more input to get round a corner than you first think. The wheel is also larger in diameter than you expect, although its rim is thin and falls nicely to hand. Once you get used to these quirks, the feel and feedback it gives are, surprisingly, one of the carâs strong points. Itâs beautifully weighted whether youâre cruising on the motorway, changing lanes, or charging hard on a twisty A-road.
Despite the fantastic steering feel, donât expect to be clipping apexes or throwing it into corners like itâs a VX220. Supple suspension and slow steering combine to give a more relaxed approach to getting down a road. The car just seems like itâs in no rush for the inner tyre to be hugging the inside line. Youâve also got to take into consideration the mass that youâre forcing to change direction â around 1,700kg with no fancy electronic damping to help disguise it. Thatâs not a big figure by todayâs standards, but 16 years ago it was a bit on the porky side.
Far and away the carâs biggest weakness is its gearbox. Itâs a short, stiff throw and it doesnât like to be rushed. Itâs clunky, notchy and is about as heavy-duty as Iâve come across. The fact it requires patience to use once again amplifies the grand tourer vibe â though not wanting to make excuses for it, the mountain of torque available means youâre never really rowing through the box searching for that power band anyway. Owner Chris tells me thereâs an aftermarket replacement available in the Tremec T56 Magnum â itâs a pretty penny, but if it cures the carâs Achilles heel then itâs a price worth paying in my eyes.
The standard box is very long geared â itâll do 30mph in 4th but only just. Thatâs in part thanks to the spicier cam sacrificing low-down drivability, but also means by the time youâre hitting the limiter in 6th, if youâre brave enough and can find somewhere to do it, youâll be blasting along at nearly 180mph. This is the carâs Australian roots showing â geared to cover vast distances for hours on end with the air conditioning cranked to the maximum.
The engine that propels you to that speed gives you the feeling you have the power to change the Earthâs orbit with each shove of your right foot. Itâs a relentless surge that only lets up at the upper reaches of its 6,600rpm redline and the noise it makes is nothing short of sensational. If youâve not driven an LS-powered car, itâs by no means as lazy as you think a Yankee 6.0 V8 would be â itâs all aluminium, after all, and the BTR cam gives it more peak power than standard. Give the Monaro a lighter, more positive-throw gearbox and I would guarantee youâd shave huge chunks off 0â60 and ÂŒ-mile times. Not only that, it would make the car more versatile, giving you the choice to keep it in gear and ride the wave of torque or drop down a few cogs and enjoy the thrills of a big-capacity V8 at full chat. Iâm beginning to realise why âLS swap the worldâ is a trend.
Considering the huge pace on tap, I was disappointed in the brakes â especially since they are the uprated AP Racing units. They look the business with large, red-painted callipers but lack any initial bite and you find your foot sinking further and further into the carpet before the freight train momentum gets scrubbed off. If youâre on a twisty stretch of road and pressing on in the big Vauxhall, youâve really got to plan ahead with all of your inputs. It’s easy to think youâre going to plough straight on at the first corner when youâre not used to the car â and thatâs not due to understeer. Youâve got to hit the anchors early and with a fair amount of force before getting the car turned in, again giving more input on the wheel than first anticipated. You begin to question if this car is a one-trick pony â a straight-line juggernaut that canât hide its American heart.
But this is where the Aussie hooligan comes out fighting. Forget how the car behaves at entry or apex â corner exit is where this car truly shines. Itâs fantastic. That feeling when you plant the throttle mid-corner and start easing off the lock to let the car drift out wide, the suspension squats, the cone-type LSD finally wakes up and it just goes. Any minor adjustments can be made with your right foot but be brave, keep it pinned and the V8 hits its crescendo and slingshots you down the next stretch.
For the vast majority of the time, the Monaro is a comfortable cruiser â more than happy to be the daily driver or road trip companion. On the right stretch of fast sweeping bends, however, its mood changes and you become embroiled in a game of chicken. How early can you put the power down post-apex? Truth be told, the traction control is on the intrusive side â and when it does kick in, itâs not all that sophisticated either â but I was under instructions from the owner to leave it on. Itâs on budget tyres and this much torque can be a handful, to say the least.
With a set of Michelin PS4S tyres (which Chris intends to fit soon) and a wide-open road to play with, I can see why this car has a bit of a reputation with the Bogans down under. Itâs a real Jekyll and Hyde and no doubt would be more than happy to throw you into a hedge if youâre not giving it your full concentration. Give it the respect it deserves, however, and I can see that long wheelbase giving you plenty of notice before the drift angle gets too much to save.
When the car was new it was unfairly shoehorned into a category with the BMW M3 and Mercedes C63 of the day, of which neither is a direct rival. The BMW is much stiffer, far more responsive and sharper. However, unlike other cars of the Commonwealth, the Monaro has a transcontinental skillset. Imagine a Jaguar XKR with a manual gearbox, a limited-slip differential and a naughty exhaust â youâre on the money. There’s no doubt it’ll cruise as well as the big cat â just without the opulence.
For some, that is a major stumbling block â just like the Vauxhall badge it wears. What about reliability? Chrisâs car does have the odd niggle â the seat adjustment button that randomly downs tools and goes on strike is just one of a few things that need addressing â and heâs already spent a few quid getting the paintwork up to scratch. But at this point, itâs a 16-year-old car â Iâm sure even a Lexus wouldnât be perfect at this age. For me the badge really doesnât matter, and the LS2 is the main reason for that. Itâs an assault on the senses like nothing else for the money and a two-fingered salute to those who value style over substance. I canât think of another car that would be so at home on a comfortable and relaxing long-distance cruise as it is bouncing off the limiter doing burnouts.
I adore the Monaroâs split personality â that ability to be an antisocial yobbo one minute, relaxed cruiser the next, and back to being a menace to society with one press of the loud pedal is something that speaks to my inner child.
The follow-ups to this model became even more potent â with bigger-capacity and supercharged engines kicking out preposterous power for a saloon car. But what they gained in brute force, they sacrificed in character. In my eyes at least, the coupĂ© shape looks far better than the newer four-door VXR8 â squint and theyâve even got a whiff of fat Vectra about them. In an effort to move the car more upmarket, they tried to raise interior quality and give it some style, chasing the BMW M5. However, going off the steering wheel alone â which is one of the least attractive designs in a modern performance car â they missed the mark by a mile.
The Monaro, on the other hand â despite its multiple identities â doesnât try to pretend itâs something itâs not. Its designers probably spent 90% of the budget on the engine and did a very decent job of the chassis â but bollocks to the rest. Other members of the team, in particular Craig, disagree. He used to live in Australia and has a real affinity for their macho saloons. Make of that what you will â or the fact that down under heâs a Holden man, yet in the northern hemisphere he swings back towards Ford â the Judas.
The bottom line is thereâs a real honesty to the Monaro VXR thatâs endearing and no doubt why Chris is happy to keep throwing money at it. We are grateful the badge engineering focused entirely on the engineering side of the equation â and the car cosmos is all the richer for its existence. If Craig could only afford the fuel bills, a HSV Maloo ute would be the perfect RUSH photography and support car.
Vauxhall Monaro VXR 6.0 Stats & Performance
Engine: 6.0-litre V8 (LS2)
Configuration: 90° V8, OHV, 16 valves
Displacement: 5,967cc
Bore x Stroke: 101.6mm Ă 92.0mm
Compression Ratio: 10.9:1
Redline: 6,500rpm (est.)
Output
Power: 398bhp @ 6,000rpm
Torque: 530Nm @ 4,400rpm
T-56 Transmission
Gearbox: 6-speed manual
Final Drive Ratio: 3.46:1 (TBC.)
Rear-wheel drive
Performance
0â62mph: 5.2sec (est.)
0â100mph: 11.4sec (est.)
0â124mph: 17.0sec (est.)
0â150mph: 28.0sec (est.)
Quarter-mile: 13.4sec @ 108mph (est.)
Top speed (limited): 155mph
Top speed (de-restricted): 170mph (est.)
In-gear acceleration
50â75mph (4th gear): 4.5sec (est.)
Weight
Kerb Weight: 1,680kg
Power to weight ratio: 237bhp per tonne
Torque to weight ratio: 315lb ft. per tonne
Steering
Power-assisted rack and pinion
Front Suspension: MacPherson strut, coil springs
Rear Suspension: Semi-trailing arm, coil springs
Brakes
Front: 330mm ventilated discs, twin-piston callipers
Rear: 315mm ventilated discs, single-piston callipers
Tyres
Front: 235/40 ZR18
Rear: 245/40 ZR18
Author
John Bee
Features Writer
Photography by:
Jake Thomas
Published on:
15 August 2025
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Spin Doctor – Mazda RX-7 FD Review
Mazda aimed to shake up the sports car establishment with its rotary-engine RX-7 but ultimately failed. The car makes less sense than ever in 2021, yet somehow its appeal has never been greater. Kotto Williams gets to grips with a legend.
Some behind the wheel of RUSH are old enough to remember the FD RX-7 the first time around. Those with greying stubble and wisdom around their eyes talk of a sleek coupe from the golden era of the Japanese sports car, when the yen was strong and the engineering was bold and creative. It was a car that took the fight directly to the Porsche 968 and often came away with the spoils thanks to a Chapman-like commitment to lightness. Whippersnappers like me grew up in the era of the RX-7âs second coming – in a pixelated form in Gran Turismo. One or two might even sheepishly admit to idolising a pouting Vin Diesel stirring million ratio gearbox as he outran both Paul Walker and LAâs finest.
Iâm not ashamed to admit that I hail from the latter camp. Gran Turismo was my hook. It provided an education of and admiration for Japanese machinery from the early to mid-nineties that still lingers to this day. The Toyota Supra, Nissan Skyline R33 GTR, Mazda MX-5 NA, Suzuki Pikeâs Peak Escudo, Subaru Impreza 22b and Mitsubishi Evo. Each one had brilliantly rendered graphics and drove differently, sparking curiosity as to why. Each one responded to modifications in its own unique manner, forcing me to seek an explanation.
One of the cars that responded best was the Mazda RX-7, and every game reset involved acquiring one as quickly as possible. It was agile, just as quick as the other monsters in a straight line and looked great drifting through to turns of Trial Mountain on the replay. Then Need for Speed came along which allowed me to indulge in my darkest Toretto fantasies at will. Now, as I stand with the keys to an imported 1994 FD3S RX-7 in my hands – not a PlayStation controller – is it going to prove to be a case of never meet your heroes or will the RX-7 live up to the praise heaped upon it by the old sages?
First impressions revolve around just how low this car is, and dainty. Itâs a very pretty car and if it’s possible much better looking in real life than on my bedroom wall. Apparently, Japanese customers had to pay a special tax due to the width of the car, but I think youâll agree it was worth the penalty. Any thoughts of nostalgia instantly evaporate with the tailpipe vapours, however, for this thing is loud with a capital L.
True to JDM grey import form we have ourselves a modified RX-7 here, but the changes are minor â a naughty exhaust, a sharp set of alloy wheels and an aftermarket radiator. Importantly, the 1.3-litre twin-turbo engine is as it left the factory, as is the suspension. The 252bhp Japanese model is slightly more powerful than the UK version by a whopping 10bhp but the advantage wasnât reflected in the recorded performance figures â sixty takes around 5.2 seconds whilst the top speed is limited to a Germany pipping 156 mph. Talk about literal one-upmanship.
Such strong performance comes from that lightweight philosophy religiously applied to the RX-7 â it weighs less than 1,300kg. The UK version was also inflicted with an ugly rear bumper to add in reflectors, fog lights and a wider number-plate recess. It came with leather seats as standard but honestly, I prefer fabric over leather as itâs nicer to live with.
Some of those kilos have definitely been saved elsewhere in the interior, which looks and feels like any other Japanese car of its time â meaning a mass of black plastic and black vinyl. What makes the RX-7 stand out however is a dashboard thatâs as curvy as the exterior and slightly canted towards the driver in the best BMW tradition. The dials are crisp and clear whilst the switchgear is robust, again like most Japanese cars it does its job with no fuss or unnecessary frivolity. It makes the somewhat comparable MR2 Turbo look dated and boring as if they lifted the dashboard out of a Corolla. You may notice it has air conditioning but itâs rare to find one with a working setup as the condenser needs replacing every 3-4 years to be effective. Itâs somewhat common to simply rip out the plumbing and save a few extra pounds – like the one Iâm driving.
The driving position is as good as you can ask for, feet straight out in front of you on Godâs own pedal setupâs clutch, brake and accelerator. A tall centre console keeps you in place on the left and a sculpted door card on the right prevents you from falling out of the window, which is open because of the sheer amount of heat generated by the engine. Right in front of you centre stage is a rev counter that tops out at 9,000rpm, on its right a speedometer that reads in kilometres per hour (cue a big panic when I thought I was doing 130 mph) and then oil management intake flow rate, fuel and coolant temperature in three sub-dials on the left. The instrumentation is basic as expected but clear and accurate day or night. AJ, the carâs owner has replaced the speaker at the top of the dashboard with an OEM-style dial pod – oil temperature and boost – a good enough fitment to pass off as Mazdaâs own.
In terms of usefulness, itâs a definite yes. The oil temperature rises and falls alarmingly fast depending on how youâre driving because of the rotary set-up. Boost gauges in an old turbo car are useful as old rubber tends to break down and collapse which can cause boost leaks or blocked pipework.
Apparently, a standard car requires an audible buzzer as the redline approaches, such is the smoothness of the rotary engine, but there is little danger of that today, for this RX-7âs staccato bark quickly fills the valleys of the Brecon Beacons. A BMW m240i or a Golf R is certainly much faster, but the experience of launching the RX-7 feels like a Rocketship in comparison. The combination of the wall of noise, low-slung driving position, widescreen view out and old-fashioned boost heavy delivery creates the image of trying to hang onto Saturn IV.
“The MX-5 just has that extra bit of road feel whereas the RX-7 concentrates on meatier weighting, however, its responsive lock-to-lock taking direction changes and sharp turns in its stride”
Despite the sequential turbos, the acceleration is somewhat sluggish until about 4,000 rpm. Actually no, thatâs unfair, itâs still respectable at low revs with the initial turbo but the secondary turbo kicks in with such violence it catches you off guard. Itâs a massive rush and by no means a flaw, itâs just unusual because of the turbine smoothness of the rotary engine and a relatively benign on-paper torque peak of 217 lb-ft. Perhaps itâs because that peak is delivered at a lofty 5,000rpm, or perhaps itâs down to Mazda being an early adopter of the technology, but such a sudden spike isnât what youâd anticipate.
Unfortunately, the steering isnât as communicative as I expected, Iâll refer to an MX-5 as the datum point because of the shared parentage and also because the RX-7 is so unique compared to its traditional rivals. The MX-5 just has that extra bit of road feel whereas the RX-7 concentrates on meatier weighting, however, its responsive lock-to-lock taking direction changes and sharp turns in its stride. Turn-in itself is what I can best describe as obedient – to make the car understeer you have to be driving very aggressively indeed. And itâs best to stay on the safer side as the brakes are fairly weak, especially as this car has the smaller early brakes â just under 300mm on the front which are a good size but you really need to work them to compensate for the aged brake servo.
The five-speed gearbox has fairly tall gears to complement the tremendous rev range on offer. A four-speed automatic was available but I canât think of a more appropriate miscarriage of justice. The âbox itself, like the MX-5 sister car, is spot-on, very direct and notchy in a precise, mechanical way. Curiously the shifter was also very hot after a spirited drive. Luckily, itâs November and I welcomed the heated gear knob but in the summer itâs apparently unbearable. Itâs the shortened distance between the engine block and gear stick because of the compact rotary engine which sits practically under the dashboard.
Luckily this means the weight distribution is pretty much 50/50, giving a fantastically balanced ride and maintaining great composure in corners. As promised by Gran Turismo the RX-7 is a joy to drive quickly, even in damp conditions the backend never felt skittish or threatened to snap into oversteer so long as you didnât push it beyond anything necessary to go as fast as conditions allow. I mentioned itâs November and when your confidence grows, so does the tendency for unintentional oversteer⊠Too much throttle and the fast-revving rotary will break traction very easily, especially at 5,000 rpm when the booster rocket kicks in.
Once dialled into the intimidation factor, the RX-7 FD fulfils the drift machine brief better than any MX-5 thanks to its stabilising long wheelbase and surplus of power to overcome any tendency to wash wide. Similar to the little roadster the RX-7 sports double-wishbone suspension front and rear, but the RX-7âs rear control arm is a lot more complicated. Instead of two points of contact with wishbones, it has three – two control arms and a main lower wishbone – or five in total if you include the shock absorber and control link which attaches to a control arm connected to the hub.
“drop into second gear, bury the throttle and youâre pushed forward briskly at first and then by a violent sense of urgency as the rev needle passes into the kill zone.”
And before you jump up and down mentioning weak rotary engines, this one is on nearly 46,000 miles and itâs yet to receive an engine rebuild or any real mechanical work. But the RX-7âs reputation still requires me to touch wood after writing that sentence. In very simple terms, the rotary engine as invented by Doctor Wankel is a triangular central shaft spinning within an oval chamber and each âfaceâ of the triangle handles the compression, ignition and exhaust phases of combustion as it cycles. However, heat doesnât dissipate from a rotary engine as efficiently as a piston one, which can lead to the infamous seal failure due to the extreme temperatures involved.
Fortunately, RX-7s tend to be well looked after by a committed bunch – unlike the RX-8. Frequent oil changes â as often as 3,000 miles â can help maintain the engine while following a strict warming-up protocol. I must point out, however, in this example on 46,000 miles the clutch was poor with a very high biting point – Iâm talking inches and sitting at lights with the clutch in quickly becomes tiresome. But Iâve been spoiled by driving mainly new cars recently with feather-light pedals and millimetric travel.
Another thing, the cooling system, particularly when it reaches twenty years old becomes a weak point so donât be afraid of an aftermarket radiator or entire system swap as it’s pretty common, even welcome. The setup is, as expected, complicated and a nightmare to work on and is known as the ratâs nest by specialists because of a complex labyrinth of cooling and vacuum piping and two locations to top up. Fortunately, there are many different setups to choose from that eliminate a lot of old pipework and simplify servicing requirements. In summary, an RX-7 isnât as bad as rumour would have you believe, but certainly go into ownership with your eyes open.
As a sports car, the RX-7 sits in the middle of my imaginary table of Japanese offerings. At the bottom of the scale, you have the Suzuki Cappuccino Kei car and the Mazda MX-5 before graduating to the likes of the Nissan Skyline GTR, the Toyota Supra and Honda NSX. Right at the top sits a Lexus LFA. The RX-7 occupies the space between the MX-5 and Supra, bridging the gap with the lightness of touch and purity of focus of the former whilst offering the hardcore power and punch of the latter. Itâs the BMW M3 as interpreted by Lotus, with added lightness. It flows easily from light to severe corners with a talkative grace you wonât find in new sportscars, and once youâre clear you drop into second gear, bury the throttle and youâre pushed forward briskly at first and then by a violent sense of urgency as the rev needle passes into the kill zone.
Yet itâs surprisingly comfortable and quiet off the throttle – itâs by no means a GT car because of a very shallow boot and a relatively snug interior – but itâll do a good day trip⊠It might even achieve 25 mpg if you have sufficient willpower. But exercise the car as Mazdaâs engineers intended and youâre more likely to log a fifteen mile per gallon average.
The RX-7 is a credit to Mazdaâs non-conformity and Iâm grateful to have experienced one in real life and can happily report it far surpasses any pixel-infused wet dreams. Itâs left-field and utterly engaging to drive. I love the way thereâs a puff of blue flame on every full-throttle upshift, I love the vocal bang and burst of orange flame on downshifts, and I love throwing it into a corner with a sense of apprehension thatâs quickly dismissed by a stunning chassis balance and thoroughbred engineering.
It grabs you by your heart, raises the hairs on your neck and at the end lets you go with your hands trembling. And then you look back, and a wave of heat hits you from the engine bay. Itâs truly one of the most beautiful Japanese cars ever made, and it has pop-up headlights. What more do you want?
