From the May 1979 issue of Car and Driver.
Datsun is not giving up its small-car territory without a fight. All the advertising miles on the new 310 are proof of that. For months now, you’ve seen Datsun’s new small car zipping across your TV screen, splashed lavishly over magazine pages, and blown up bigger than life on roadside billboards. If Datsun is driven to do anything, it’s to sell 310s.
This ad blitz is understandable, because the 310 is Datsun’s new-generation front-wheel-drive car, a key weapon it will use to defend itself in the worldwide small-car war that’s escalating viciously even now. Moreover, it represents Datsun’s second attempt at building a front-drive sedan, since it’s the successor to the ill-fated F-10. As an acknowledged small-car giant, Datsun has a reputation to protect.
To these ends, Datsun has armed itself with a pair of all-new three-door sedans. They’re named simply the 310 sedan and the 310-GX—which is the subject of this test. A four-door sedan may be sent over later, but for now, just these two constitute the 310 arsenal. The sedan is the family hauler, while the GX is intended to add a dose of sport to the basic 310 theme. For all practical purposes, the two cars are mechanically identical.
The 310 shares its basic layout with the original F-10. It once again has a 1397 cc four-cylinder engine mounted transversely in the chassis and driving the front wheels. Each corner of the unit body is again suspended independently, with MacPherson struts, coil springs, and an anti-sway bar up front, and trailing arms and coil springs in the rear. But aside from these superficial similarities to the old F-10, the new 310 is, as they say, new from bumper to bumper.
Which is just fine by us, because the old F-10 just wasn’t suited to life here on spaceship earth. It was, you’ll remember, an unearthly amalgam of funny shapes and openings, a cramped and noisy little car that always acted a bit tipsy. In fact, given the way the packaging advantages of front-wheel drive were ignored in the F-10, it could well have been designed three thousand miles in outer space instead of that same distance across the Pacific. About the only things you could say in its favor were that its engine, proven in the B-210, was reliable and that it was good in the snow. Not exactly a rave review.
Datsun wants us to forget the past. It's made every attempt to mold the 310 into a car completely different from its predecessor. And if appearances are anything to go by, it’s accomplished that goal. The old banana-with-windows styling has given way to a fresh-cut wedge profile. And while Datsun hasn’t made the 310 any lower, it has made it longer and noticeably wider. For the record, it’s five inches longer and four inches wider, but—at 2600 pounds—only 80 pounds heavier. Inside, the handsome velour seats, thick carpeting, and color-keyed dash bespeak a newfound awareness of American tastes. And, standard procedure for Japanese carmakers, Datsun has loaded the 310 chock-full of features designed to make life behind the wheel more pleasant.
Every 310, GX or sedan, comes with reclining seats, a split-back folding rear seat, a slider mechanism that moves the passenger’s bucket forward to facilitate rear-seat entry, a quartz clock, a remote hatch opener, side-window defroster vents, intermittent wipers, power brakes, a remote fuel-filler-door opener, a rear defogger, and a day-night mirror. The sedan also features console-mounted remote cable controls for the flip-out rear windows. The GX adds roll-down rear quarter-windows, a rear window wiper-washer, a tach, a five-speed transmission, a four-spoke steering wheel, and fatter, 165/70-13 tires. It certainly seems as though Datsun has wedged the 310 right into the heart of small-car country. Yet despite such favorable first impressions, we found—after living with a GX for more than 2000 miles—that all is still not well with Datsun’s front-drive car.
The small-car facts of life have been readily defined for Datsun by such front-line front-drivers as the Rabbit, the Strada, the Omni/Horizon, the Fiesta, the Civic, and now GM’s formidable new X-body compacts. But when you compare it with its competition, the 310 comes off as little more than an F-10 that fell to earth and isn’t quite in touch with reality yet.
The 310’s interior is a perfect example of the confusing inconsistencies that compromise the car throughout. Datsun obviously went to a lot of trouble to make the 310’s cabin more hospitable than the F-10’s, yet the effect of the handsome carpeting, dash, and upholstery is offset by door panels that look plain enough to have come out of a Datsun pickup. Datsun also widened the car to achieve more interior width. This alleviates the phone-booth claustrophobia of the F-10—but only for front-seat passengers; rear-seat riders are almost as cramped as they were in the older car. In both new cars, rear legroom is still in severely short supply. Other front-drive cars with the same wheelbase do much better in this respect.
Where the GX really falls down on the job is in the all-important area of day-to-day livability. The 310 is so riddled with annoying quirks that its positive qualities are overshadowed.
Take the radio, for instance. Please. Our test car had the optional AM/FM unit. Besides impoverished reception, it was endowed with what has to be one of this decade’s worst speakers—mounted under the dash, facing the floor. Most of the music we could tune in became badly garbled when the volume was turned up loud enough to be heard during highway cruising. You don’t have to listen to the radio, of course, but you’ll find the heating system harder to avoid. When you do use it, you’ll find it only marginally effective. Worse yet, the defroster—which has to work overtime to get the job done—is about as quiet as an idling 747.
And if you want a little whine before dinner, the 310’s transmission will be more than happy to oblige—in any gear. Though the 310’s shift linkage is much improved over the F-10’s Silly Putty unit, the transmission crunched almost every time we grabbed third gear. Then there’s the matter of the shift pattern, which has first down and to the left, off of the H, and reverse—with no protective lockout—dead ahead, where any self-respecting low gear ought to be. And sure enough, there is the occasional gnashing of reverse when making the one-two shift.
Then again, we didn’t like reverse much anyway, because selecting it brought on the annoying warning beeper that is Datsun’s fix for the shift-pattern problem. (It’s there to prevent the unwary from backing away from stoplights when they put the shifter where first is in most other cars.) Last but not least was the vibration problem. At idle, the GX’s engine was so rough that the steering wheel actually got a little blurry around the edges. Nudging the idle up about 100 rpm would solve that problem, but only the engineers will be able to quiet the sharp buzzing of the exhaust system as the revs climb past 5000—a sound that is the essence of tinniness. Most of these problems also cropped up on a 310 sedan we were sampling, so they seem to be basic design flaws, not isolated failings of the GX test car.
All of this, when added to the below average space utilization, makes the 310 rough-edged—even crude—given the current level of small-car sophistication. That’s unfortunate, because it’s due cause for avoiding what is essentially a fun car to drive. The little engine revs up willingly, and the five-speed—top gear is a direct 1:1 ratio—helps you make good use of the available power. The steering response is direct, and there’s plenty of road feel. Once you get used to the suspension’s initial rubberiness when you first twist the wheel, the GX turns out to be a fine fling-around car. It’s also quite stable during highway cruising, and it rides acceptably as well. And of course it’s stingy with your gas money, returning 27 miles for every EPA gallon.
But decent road manners are only part of what makes a good small car. The 310 represents a Datsun move in the right direction, but little more; that it’s superior to the F-10 is frankly not one of the world’s outstanding accomplishments. This is underscored by the fact that $5500 will probably also buy a well-equipped GM X-body compact. And the 310 can’t begin to match the X car’s room, ride, quietness, appointments, and overall refinement—yet its economy is only marginally better. The 310 isn’t in the same league.
So at this point the best news we have is that Datsun’s front-drive car has finally come down to earth. But if it’s to live here happily, Datsun will have to try still harder—a lot harder.
Counterpoints
Since the subject of this test is the 310 sport coupe, I’ll have to add my vote to the negative side. And that’s too bad, because condemning the sport coupe can, by extension, condemn the sedan that came, afterthought-like, with the deal. My strongest negatives about the sport coupe are its looks (really ugly) and its transmission (really terrible). I don’t have either of those complaints about the sedan. In fact, I think Datsun’s marketeers are in for a surprise. Despite their studied predictions, my hunch is the sporty version will be shunned in the showroom (”Yes, Harry. It’s true. It’s the dreaded Showroom Shun”), and the boxy but cute, simple but contemporary sedan will find favor. And that’s the way it should be, because the 310 sedan is—in the Datsun tradition—a functional, sensible, straightforward transportation module, and that’s what a lot of people are looking for these days. They don’t want an overstyled, beeping aggravation. —Mike Knepper
The Datsun 310, like the Subaru, makes us wonder if there is not a streak of automotive perversity loose among America’s car buyers, and if Datsun may not be on to something big. The 310 simply does not address itself to creature comfort in the way that a Toyota or a Honda does. It is a rather Spartan car, with lots of engine and transmission noise, and very little isolation from the mechanical realities. There’s an old-fashioned rough-and-readiness about the 310 that’s not masked by velour upholstery or cut-pile carpets—a sort of naïve innocence that appealed to me, along with my belief that it would probably run forever—but I couldn’t explain my affectionate regard for these attributes to my co-testers. Noisy little cars that bucket along as the Datsun does are fun. They bring out an adolescent streak in me that 30 years of automotive experience has been insufficient to suppress. They are amusingly likable in their imperfections—the four-speed sedan more so than the more pretentious coupe. The 310 didn’t try to kid me, nor did it ever let me down. Only when I learned how much I’d have to pay for those simple, earthy pleasures did my enthusiasm start to flag. —David E. Davis Jr.
Specifications
Specifications
1979 Datsun 310-GX
Vehicle Type: front-engine, front-wheel-drive, 4-passenger, 2-door coupe
PRICE
Base/As Tested: $5365/$5490
//Base price of vehicle as described in specs hed//
Options: AM/FM radio, $125
ENGINE
pushrod inline-4, iron block and aluminum head
Displacement: 85 in3, 1397 cm3
Power (SAE net): 65 hp @ 5600 rpm
Torque (SAE net): 75 lb-ft @ 3600 rpm
TRANSMISSION
5-speed manual
CHASSIS
Suspension, F/R: struts/trailing arm
Brakes, F/R: 9.4-in disc/8.0-in drum
Tires: Bridgestone RD-106 Steel
165/70SR-13
DIMENSIONS
Wheelbase: 94.3 in
Length: 162.2 in
Width: 63.8 in
Height: 52.0 in
Curb Weight: 2060 lb
C/D TEST RESULTS
60 mph: 12.7 sec
1/4-Mile: 19.3 sec @ 70 mph
80 mph: 29.0 sec
Top Speed: 90 mph
Braking, 70–0 mph: 196 ft
Interior Sound
Idle: 51 dBA
Full Throttle: 87 dBA
70-mph Cruising: 79 dBA
EPA FUEL ECONOMY
City: 27 mpg (est)
Rich Ceppos has evaluated automobiles and automotive technology during a career that has encompassed 10 years at General Motors, two stints at Car and Driver totaling 20 years, and thousands of miles logged in racing cars. He was in music school when he realized what he really wanted to do in life and, somehow, it's worked out. In between his two C/D postings he served as executive editor of Automobile Magazine; was an executive vice president at Campbell Marketing & Communications; worked in GM's product-development area; and became publisher of Autoweek. He has raced continuously since college, held SCCA and IMSA pro racing licenses, and has competed in the 24 Hours of Daytona. He currently ministers to a 1999 Miata, and he appreciates that none of his younger colleagues have yet uttered "Okay, Boomer" when he tells one of his stories about the crazy old days at C/D.
