Renault’s Trophy is too hot to handle

Renault’s sporty new Trophy is too terrifying for our man for the very reason others will love it...

Game-changers, mavericks, revolutionaries... call them what you will, there can’t be many that come close to Winston Leonard Spencer Churchill. As bad as he was good, surely few would dare argue his undoubted worth when it came to leading the free world in wartime. I cannot recommend Boris Johnson’s gripping new book, highly enough. Its 350 rip-roaring pages are a blunderbuss of a thesis citing just how close we all came to becoming Hitler’s slave race. Every chapter is littered with scores of juicy Winnie vignettes, from his founding of the RAF to the enthusiasm with which he helped invent and push through the development and production of the Land Ship (which came to be known as the tank). Then there was the unending tenacity he had to display to finally (and desperately) seduce the Yanks into joining WWII when 90% of the US population were against even the mere thought of any involvement. Add to this his role in setting up the United Nations – and a list that goes on and on.

Although Boris is unashamedly a huge Churchill fan, he is mindful enough to balance such transparent admiration with constant reminders of WSC’s equally eccentric gaffes. He called Gandhi ‘a half-naked fakir’, for example; he helped re-draw the map of the Middle East – look how that’s turned out. And then there were the many highly contentious decisions he made merely hoping he was right ’cos he didn’t know quite what else to do. Poor bloke, I really felt for him at times, even when his singled-mindedness and commitment took him to the brink of human reason – the most infamous instance of which surely has to be when he gave the horrific and ultimately tragic go-ahead for the RAF and Royal Navy to bomb the French fleet in 1940. Although the French were of course British allies, their ships, a good number of which were the most modern and well-equipped of the day, were in grave peril of being captured by the Nazis and turned against Britain. This left Churchill in no doubt as to what had to be done, regardless of

EVERY OUNCE OF WEIGHT-SAVING TRANSLATES INTO EXTRA, RABID, INSANE PERFORMANCE

the many French casualties certain to be sustained as a result.

Other than being rejected and neglected by his father, for me this is the character-defining moment of anything I’ve ever read about Churchill’s life. Just thinking about it again now turns my stomach cold.

Radicale is how the French themselves might refer to such a facet as the above, as they have in the infinitely more trivial world of the motor-car industry with regards to the new Renaultsport 275 Trophy-R. That’s what the R at the end stands for – not for Rapide or Rally, as I first thought, but Radicale, as in extreme.

And so, is it? Er, yes. Very. In fact, there has never been a road car so extreme. Don’t be duped (like I was) by the sports hatch semi-boyracer paint job – this machine is mayhem waiting to be unleashed, as were its two predecessors, which both held the Nürburgring lap record for a front-wheel-drive car. Before this one broke that time again earlier this year.

And just to make sure it did, Renault started stripping out her innards like never before, removing everything not absolutely necessary for anything other than moving the car forwards or backwards and going right and left – with the exception of the front passenger seat. Lucky passenger.

But yes, that does mean no rear seating whatsoever – all that’s in the back is a net to help your luggage remain somewhere in the same county as you. And no radio/CD/iPod/speakers/air-con.

All this weight-saving ensures that if you do happen to break down in your new Trophy-R (and by the way, you’ll do well to get the chance, as only 250 RHD cars are being made), it will surely be the lightest car you have ever had to heave to the nearest garage. Even the already super-light boot floor (part of the original monocoque tub) has been hollowed out and replaced with super-thin plastic.

And boy have they made it count: every ounce of weight-saving translates into extra, rabid, insane performance. And all this before I even realised there was an RS Sport mode to go completely bonkers with. At which point, cue the antilag system and enjoy every fresh, new and exciting pop, bang and whizz emanating from beneath the vibrating bonnet.

Similar to last week’s Caterham 620R, this is a car you have to be prepared to get to grips with or simply not bother. In fact it’s almost as if the editor was preparing me for the latter courtesy of the former.

With every gear change hammering home the message that this car doesn’t want to hang around for a thousandth of a second more than she has to, and the big-bored (almost) straight-through exhaust system doing everything it can to back her up, all claims that she is as close to her rally thoroughbred cousin as is legally possible are more than validated.

Put your right foot down firmly, then, and prepare to enter a world known only to a select few, where power is king and everything else can go whistle. As each new rev cycle peaked, I felt compelled to hold on to the wheel as the whole front of the car reared around before me, daring me to change up yet again. I was assured there was a built-in rev limiter but I was so transfixed by the time tunnel flashing past I honestly couldn’t tell.

Corners were my salvation, serving as a welcome reminder that I might still be part of the scenario somehow. I turned the steering wheel to check – yes I was having at least some effect. This is very much an ‘in the now’ car, in so far as you have to be totally present to drive it – if not you may well find yourself very quickly a part of the past.

That’s why I might therefore request a roll cage please, Renault. Oh, and while I’m at it, how about a three-point seat belt not only for the driver (which comes as standard) but also the passenger? I’ve

never actually been in a road car where such devices are fitted and not thought, ‘That’s just plain silly’, whereas the opposite is true in the case of this raucous rug rat.

And one final nugget of customer feedback: ditch what dials there are remaining altogether and replace them with a head-up-display in-screen system instead. You really don’t want to be looking anywhere but straight ahead when in command of such a serious piece of kit as this.

As you may have gleaned, I was blown away by this little Gallic hottie, though I have to admit more in a scared way than an inspired one.

Wicked and wondrous then, and in equal measures, she is a Radicale indeed, easily living up to that R on her badge. For that alone we must salute her. Not that I would want to own her, not for a second. In fact I don’t really ever want to have to drive the likes of her ever again; I found the whole sensory and physical experience overwhelming and exhausting.

Though I suspect this may well put me in the unadventurous minority. In which case, whatever the French is for ‘fill your boots’ – everyone else, do that.