Beater Archive

Nondescript: 1982-96 Oldsmobile Cutlass Ciera

By Andrew ⋅ November 19, 2007 ⋅  Email this Article ⋅  Print this post ⋅ Post a comment

How I learned to stop lamenting and love the ’80s A-Body

by Andrew Stoy

1995 Oldsmobile Cutlass Ciera

The Background

I’ll confess to not understanding the appeal of cars like the Olds Cutlass Ciera until recently. I mean, come on: A pushrod engine? Column shifter? Identical, featureless bench seats front and rear? Why, that’s not a car; it’s just a transportation appliance. Something to get you from point A to point B with a minimum of discomfort and hassle. "Poor, pathetic Oldsmobile," I thought. "They’ve gone from cars like the ’68-’72 Cutlasses to this plain-vanilla lump."

I’m older and wiser now. I’ve been in the auto industry for a number of years, and I sort of understand how things work. And I realize that the the millions of 4-door, 350 2bbl ’68-’72 Cutlasses that were sold back then were cars designed to get you from point A to point B with a minimum of discomfort and hassle. They were good at what they did, and they made Olds millions of dollars. Ding. Light bulb on. The 1982-96 Cutlass Ciera was exactly what it needed to be, and it was good at it.

So what was it? The ’80s GM A-body was a refinement of the X-body of Citation fame. Despite the Citation’s reputation, the A that appeared a few years later benefited from a few additional years of development time on what was essentially a solid design. With the front-drive revolution in full-swing, the Olds Cutlass Ciera wrapped the A chassis with squared-off, attractive sheetmetal encompassing sedan and coupe bodystyles, a reasonably spacious trunk, and transverse four or six-cylinder powerplants driving the front wheels through a 3- or 4-speed automatic transaxle. The perfect recipe for a 1980s domestic mid-size sedan, wagon, and coupe.

The Opportunity

A well-maintained Oldsmobile Cutlass Ciera can be an absolute model of reliability. There. We said it. Hell, even an abused Cutlass Ciera can be a dang good car, capable of providing hundreds of thousands of trouble free miles. Need an example? A good friend from college bought a poo brown Cierra with almost 130,000 miles on it (it subsequently earned the nickname “The Car that Drives Itself Home” for reasons that will remain unmentioned). The maintenance history was unknown. He drove it without a lick of maintenance, save for occasional oil changes, until 200,000 were on the odo. Then he treated the car to new shocks and struts and drove it for another 50,000 miles until he finally sold it to buy something that would pull a boat.

And, while it doesn’t provide the soft, wallowy, torquey driving experience found in, say, a ’76 Delta 88, the Ciera still offers a distinctly American take on the FWD sedan. It’s a totally different feel from that found in a contemporary Accord, featuring numb, overboosted steering, utterly unsupportive seats, column shifter, slightly grabby brakes, powertrain rubber-banding, and an archaic sweep-style speedometer flanked by idiot lights. Why are these apparent negatives in the "Opportunity" section? Because many Americans like a car with these characteristics, and the Olds Cutlass Ciera satisfies nicely.

Of course, combined with the other variants of the A-body, along with its X-body predecessors, there were millions of these cars made. That means that parts stores, salvage yards, eBay, Craigslist, and your neighbor’s garage are all prolific sources of parts for your Cutlass Ciera. It’s perfectly reasonable to assume that you could assemble your own brand-new Ciera from parts should you so wish. Also, most American mechanics cut their teeth on A-body cars, so strut cartridge replacement, dropping an engine cradle, or a dogbone motor-mount replacement should be as close as the corner garage.

The Downside

If rust is your thing, have we got a deal for you. Buy any Olds Cutlass Ciera with five rusty panels, you’ll get the sixth for free. Guaranteed. GM didn’t just skimp on the rustproofing on its ’80s vintage A-body cars, they may have forgotten it completely. Unfortunately, the problem wasn’t limited to salt-sloshed northern and coastal cars, either: It seems like any Ciera that was exposed to water–even in vapor form–suffered from tinworm, at least to a cosmetic degree.

It’s reasonable to assume that a smaller sedan with a front-drive chassis will yield good fuel economy. In this case, that assumption isn’t exactly true. Despite the smallish engines and reasonably lightweight body, the Cutlass Ciera and its stablemates are saddled with archaic pushrod engines, underdeveloped ’80s vintage emission controls, and power-sapping automatic transaxles. As a result, 25 mpg on the highway is about the top end of Ciera efficiency, with 18 mpg or so common in the city: In other words, roughly the same economy as a current small SUV or minivan. Oh, and there was a diesel version: It’s not the answer to the economy issue. Forget it ever existed, and if you find one, run.

Finally, don’t let the existence of a Cutlass Ciera coupe bring visions of 4-4-2 coolness into your head. It’s got the same featureless styling as the sedan, just with two longer front doors and none in back. If you need extra carrying capacity, you can look toward a wagon, but friends, there aren’t too many vehicles less cool than a Cutlass Ciera wagon. Make that just about any Cutlass Ciera. So if your ego is at stake, look for something in the import column to better impress the neighbors.

The Hit

$100-$1,025

In a Nutshell

You have a thousand bucks. You like GM cars. You like both your sheetmetal and your neighbors arrow-straight. You just need to get to work and back with a modicum of comfort, and you couldn’t really care less about driving thrills. The 1982-96 Cutlass Ciera is your ticket, my friend. It ain’t fancy, and it ain’t scary. But it’s one of the main reasons we still have a General Motors around to enjoy today.