Charming, the electric retro Renault, but why all those decadent options?

Renault's pioneering role as a plug-in car manufacturer has been unfairly overshadowed by Tesla's success story. Renault was an early adopter in 2011 with the Fluence and a year later with the small Zoe. Yes, Tesla was better in every way back then, too. In both French cars, you could be happy with a range of 130 kilometers. But later generations of Zoe evolved into mature, comfortable EVs with a range of up to 400 kilometers. Yet, the Zoe, now discontinued, was never the hit that Tesla's Model 3 became in the upper mid-range segment. Its unassuming design didn't help. And when design became increasingly important to the public, Renault thought: what if we turned our EVs into fun, cuddly cars in the style of our most successful classics?

Recently departed CEO Luca de Meo opened the retro taps wide. First came the successful electric remake of the Renault 5, which drives well and sells well. Now comes the Renault 4, the most charming sequel to the boxy family car the brand produced from 1961 to 1994 in a run of over eight million, now a classic with cult status. Enthusiasts pay as much as €10,000 for well-preserved 4-doors. With its practical design and comfort, it met the then-modest bourgeois requirements. And now it satisfies the nostalgia that modern people must swallow to sustain their grueling, multitasking existence at the pace of the times.

The 4, along with the 2CV, was the designated Francophile car of my childhood. Both cars had a strong social profile in the 1970s. At least in the Netherlands, they represented a liberated vanguard. The 2CV was the most anti-bourgeois variant for those who didn't want a car but had to, a most innocent betrayal of the car-hating counterculture to which my 2CV-driving parents belonged. More ambitious colleagues in their educational circles opted for the 4. It was more modern, with four cylinders more car power than the two-cylinder Citroën, and secretly the prelude to conversion to the establishment. Renault 4 drivers later became school principals or education inspectors with a Peugeot 505, while the 2CV drivers remained anarchistic schoolboys, hopelessly humiliated by the Taunus- and Kadett-driving bourgeoisie. Once, from the backseat, I saw my father trying to overtake an Opel. The Avro scoundrel behind the wheel, seeing us approaching slower than the sound of a car, teasingly accelerated just enough to prevent overtaking. "Get him," my furious mother urged, but my father was too soft for revenge. "Probably an ex-student," he sighed, and retreated empty-handed.

A cold winter

That humiliation won't befall the new Renault 4 driver. They'll get a 120 hp engine with a 40 kW battery or a 150 hp engine with a 52 kWh battery. 120 is plenty, but get it with the big battery. You never know how much range a cold winter will cost in a Four loaded with a family of four. It fits, which couldn't be said of the cramped Five. The luggage compartment, at 420 liters, is almost generous.

Furthermore, in terms of representation, this is a car you can take to the Zuidas without postmodern irony if you want to move up later. In the Amsterdamse Bos, we were already being pounced on by curious young urbanites during the photo shoot. Where the new 4 will truly stand, now that everything has become sociologically fluid, remains the question – with a base price of 30 grand, quickly rising to 40 with the larger battery and decadent options that spartan Renault veterans of the Ban the Bomb era would have mercilessly dismissed: Harman Kardon audio, comprehensive safety systems, a power tailgate. But it drives wonderfully, and a 350-kilometer range is usually within reach. The only objection is the sound. The electronic welcome soundscape upon boarding is a Kia-esque derailment. Why not a punchy snatch of sampled Edith Piaf or Georges Brassens? Furthermore, the Harman Kardon stereo, a source of pleasure in other cars, sounds awful in the Renault. That really needs to improve. Or just leave it all out. Why not a true, bare-bones retro-V with, except for airbags and air conditioning, a stripped-down interior in the style of the original, so without the hi-fi, Star Trek displays, LED light shows, and overly thick wheels? A stylish downsizing could make the retro-Vie more authentic, lighter, more fuel-efficient, and cheaper. But modern people only want the benefits of their nostalgia.