Jake Ryan, Coolness And The Porsche 944
A test drive decades in the making answers if Porsche's 944 holds up better or worse than the 1984 comedy that helped make it a Gen X icon of cool.
There are three types of Gen Xers in America: those who wanted to be Jake Ryan, those who wanted to be with Jake Ryan, and those who outwardly claimed Jake Ryan wasn’t cool while actually secretly grappling internally with falling into one of the other aforementioned camps. The fictional heartthrob character in the classic 1984 coming-of-age comedy movie Sixteen Candles had everything: the GQ looks, the popularity, the house, the hottest and most physically mature girlfriend in school and the depth to know he was above it all and wanted more. Of course, he didn’t have the movie’s protagonist, Samantha Baker as portrayed by Molly Ringwald, but it took him less than 24 hours (or 90 minutes movie time) to get her too. By Reagan-era standards, Jake Ryan was a fucking legend.
Then there was Jake’s car -- a 1983 Porsche 944. Now I won’t claim Jake’s mythological coolness single-handedly made the Porsche 944 a dream ride for an entire generation, but I will admit I had a poster of an absolutely identical car on my bedroom wall. I know for a fact I wasn’t the only one. I’m looking at you… you know who you are. And today the 944 is off the wall and parked right in front of me so I can experience if the reality of driving it stacks up to the myth. And just so we’re all clear here, I’m not under any delusions that I’ll suddenly be as cool and popular as Jake Ryan.
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In current pop culture both the Porsche 944 and Sixteen Candles have legions of fans and groups of ardent detractors. Now is a perfect opportunity to assess all the Porsche’s pros and cons through the lens of decades of progress, just like society has done with respect to the movie’s antiquated smorgasbord of female sexualization, racial stereotypes and homophobic epithets. Maybe the benefits of a little age and perspective will pay dividends, just like the decision to cast 23-year-old actor and model Michael Shoeffling in the role of 18-year-old high school senior Jake Ryan, whose maturity still sharply contrasts perfectly with the youthful awkwardness of Molly Ringwald and Anthony Michael Hall (Farmer Ted “The Geek”), who were an age-appropriate 15 years old at the time of filming.
Sixteen Candles writer/director John Hughes was notorious for obsessing over the smallest details up through the shooting of his movies, spending months handpicking the perfect songs, settings and even insisting on using license plates with alphanumeric easter eggs. There is absolutely no doubt Hughes influenced picking the Porsche for Jake. For over thirty years Porsche had been dominating races and had been the dual-purpose street/track car of choice by big screen actors such as Steve McQueen and James Dean. Driving a Porsche meant you cared about performance and had money to spare. A new Porsche meant the person driving was someone worth noticing. As much as Mr. Baker was Buick and Grandpa Baker was Oldsmobile, Jake was Porsche from the soles of his Doc Martens to the top of his perfectly styled hair.
Hughes specifically didn’t place Jake in a classic rear-engine, air-cooled Porsche like the 1978 911SC he assigned to Pretty in Pink’s villain Steff (flawlessly played by James Spader). Instead, he picked a 1983 Porsche 944, the less expensive, front-mounted water-cooled engine model often considered by brand enthusiasts then and now as “not a real Porsche”. The selection of the 944 for Jake was a stroke of brilliance even if the character complexities it reflected were entirely unintended. Porsche’s 911 was a car for uber-rich snobs like Steff and purist sportsmen like McQueen-portrayed Michael Delaney, the professional racer character in the 1971 film Le Mans. Porsche’s range-topping 928 was a perfect plot device for Risky Business, released the same year as Sixteen Candles, as it exquisitely befits protagonist Joel Goodson’s (Tom Cruise) rich, conservative, controlling father.
Like Jake Ryan, the 944 was ripe for glib stereotyping. Debuting as a 1982 model, it was Porsche’s fourth attempt to expand its market by offering more affordable junior-level cars alongside expensive flagships. While the company’s first effort stuffing the old 356’s four-cylinder into the six-cylinder 911 car and selling it as the 1965-1969 912 was quite successful, the follow-ups proved more complicated. The VW-powered and built 1970-1976 914 and subsequent 1976-1988 924 built at VW’s Audi plant with a front-mounted 2.0-liter water-cooled four-cylinder engine (which had previously been equipped on lowly Audis, VWs and even an option on the maligned AMC Gremlin subcompact,) further eroded Porsche’s performance brand identity. Sales of the 924 were declining rapidly by 1980, so to woo back enthusiasts, Porsche again teamed up with VW/Audi on the 944 to slot it above the $17,500 924 and well below the venerable $45,000 911. Stylists reworked the 924’s 2+2 hatchback body to make it appear far more muscular. Engineers sliced the range-topping Porsche 928’s V8 in half to create a 2.5-liter slant-four engine delivering 143 horsepower, nearly 50 percent more than from the 2.0-liter in the 924. When it launched, the 944 carried a base price of under $20,000
When the 944 launched it was praised for its chiseled athletic looks. The Porsche purists, however, balked at the outsourced production and lack of classic Porsche rear positioning and air cooling of the engine as in the 356 and 911. The guilt by association with shared 924 parts was hard to overcome, and even when it was publicized the Porsche factory’s 924 GTP racer, which had finished seventh overall at the 1981 24 Hours of Le Mans, was actually a prototype 944, Porschephiles were still nonplussed. Not so of journalists, who after putting the new 944 through its paces found it offered driving dynamic superior to other cars on the market, including the 911 and 928.
Today’s test 1984 Porsche 944 is for all intents and purposes the same as Jake Ryan’s 1983 944 save for colors, wheels and lack of Illinois vanity license plate 21850 (John Hughes’ date of birth). Jake’s was iconic Guards Red with black interior and factory-standard black-with-polished-outer-rim “cookie cutter” alloys, while today’s test car looks elegant in its dark Copenhagen Blue and wearing the non-standard “phone dial” alloy wheels mostly associated with the 928. (Phone dials were offered as an option on the 944 starting in the 1985 model year.) In the flesh, this 944 looks like a 924 after a Hulk Hogan steroid regimen, its aggressively flared rear quarter panels and black rear hatch lip spoiler providing a far more athletic appearance than its down-market sibling. Somehow the small changes turned the meek looking 924 into one of the most visually balanced Porsches of its day. So many decades later it remains one of the classiest series production Porsche designs ever.
I slide into the well-worn tan leather driver’s seat and close the door, emitting a vault-like thunk. Grabbing the unmistakable rectangle-within-circle Porsche steering wheel, it occurs to me the tan with brown hard-surface interior looks to have been designed by an OCD geometry teacher during a manic phase. Round, square and rectangular items all are organized, framed or nested in larger geometric shapes. The handsome circular gauges even appear novel utilizing yellow on black indicators. A myriad of buttons, knobs, rheostats and rocker switches all utilize incomprehensible hieroglyphics and are about as easy to decipher as a 1980’s beer cap puzzle. At least placement of the switchgear makes reasonable sense and creates a far cleaner cockpit environment than any modern button-littered Porsche. A mild model refresh in mid-1985 further improved interior functionality and flow.
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Four inches taller than Jake, the 944 still easily accommodates my 6’4” body with ample room to spare. On the other hand, rear seats are best left for luggage, because even riding sideways would be so uncomfortable it would violate terms of the Geneva Convention. The hatch area is wide -- designed to hold the enormous removable sunroof panel. The rear seatback folds forward to provide additional flat storage capacity for enough cases of cheap beer for every house party attendee to make regrettable late-night choices.
I engage the clutch, turn the key and the slant four comes to life with just the slightest bit of audible note and little to no vibration. Clutch effort is lighter than a New York Fashion Week model on an Ex Lax-only diet and the wide friction point comes extremely high up on the pedal travel. Under partial throttle, the car launches easily from a stop and feels as docile as a period Toyota Celica or Honda Prelude. Pushing the accelerator pedal fully to the carpet from low revs is initially shockingly uneventful. Even as the idiosyncratic tachometer’s needle sweeps clockwise from its idle point at 3 o’clock to 3000 RPMs at 6 o’clock, power seems to build lazily. Driven at low RPMs, the 944 seems like it’s ready for the falling-asleep scene in John Hughes’ follow-up movie The Breakfast Club.
Once the overhead-cam plant gets past 4,000RPMs full-throttle acceleration takes off like a Long Duk Dong banzai from a tree. The engine and exhaust notes are unmistakably four cylinder, but with a surprising amount of bassy overtones to the rising crescendo of sonic mechanicals. The rear tires break traction and spin on the slightly wet ground until I reach for the gratuitously gaitered five-speed shifter lever at its 6400-rpm redline (or yellow bar, as the case is in the 944) and pull quickly down into second. The shift action is very rubbery, a hallmark of many period German cars, but it’s easy to find the correct gear in the transaxle. By 1984 standards, the 944 gear-changing is a pleasant and sporty affair, as it should be, devoid of terribly notchy action plaguing much of its American and Japanese competition. It’s unfortunate Michael Schoeffling didn’t get to experience this while shooting, as despite the movie dialog explaining his character’s car was “a stick”, keen-eyed viewers can spot Jake tugging back on the automatic transmission shifter after finding Carolyn and Farmer Ted kissing in the back of his dad’s Rolls-Royce during the church parking lot scene.
Now cruising in fourth gear and rapidly approaching some tight s-curves, I find the placement of the pedals perfect for heel-toe downshifting back down through third gear to second. The 944 tackles these corners with more body roll than drivers of modern European sports cars would expect, but it carves curves without the need for kidney-killing stiff springing like on the 1984 Corvette. Feedback to my hands is outstanding with the power steering system adding weight progressively. Even though the tires on this car are certainly past their prime, I’d still have to well exceed double the legal speed on these roads to explore this Porsche’s handling limits. A good mid-corner mash of the throttle combined with a tug of the steering wheel, however, proves tail-out exits are not only possible, but also easy to induce when I so desire. Tossing some quick opposite-lock steering inputs immediately reigns the car back in line. Unlike the nose-heavy 928’s tendency to plow or the infamous mid-corner throttle-off oversteer behavior of the 911, the 944’s tight and balanced platform inspires confidence and forgives most minor mistakes. It is important, however, to have the 143-horsepower four-cylinder engine well within its sweet spot rev range to launch effectively out of corners. The powerband is small and the 944’s 8.0-second 0-60 time doesn’t seem or feel very fast by modern standards, but it certainly was at the time and continues to exhilarate when driven in the correct gears with a heavy throttle foot.
It is at the apex of a tighter bend I find myself really impressed with the 944’s seats. Unlike the typical chairs of the era, which were unsupportive as a typical John Hughes movie character’s parent, the 944 has commendable lateral bolstering and offers fabulous overall comfort. Don’t get me wrong, this driver’s seat is lightyears behind modern German seats with infinite adjustment and integrated heating and cooling, but I challenge anyone to find any contemporary factory-stock seats that are appreciably better for performance driving and touring.
Braking from the four-wheel-discs is also equally impressive for the period. No antilock braking here, but pedal modulation to avoid locking up feels very natural. Without tons of power to spare, it was indeed the 944’s agility that made it a favorite with SCCA’s racing and autocross sets. For its July, 1984 issue cover story, Car & Driver tested and awarded the 1984 944 first place in the Best Handling Import Car comparison test, besting the stiff competition from Ferrari 308 GTB Quattrovalve, Lotus Esprit, Toyota Celica Supra, Honda Prelude…and its far more expensive Porsche siblings, the 911 Carrera and 928.
In other words, the 944 was some serious bang for the buck when new. In the years following, the value proposition got even better. This car I’m driving was purchased in 2005 with a bad starter safety switch and failed clutch slave cylinder for the totally whimsical sum of just $800. Don’t count on a deal like that now, as those days are as dated as renting a movie from a video store. A good 944 without deferred maintenance usually brings above $10,000 with cars after the 1985.5 refresh fetching a couple grand more. The uprated and higher performing later 944 S with its 16-valve engine commands an even larger premium. Then there are the 944 Turbo models (also known by its platform designator 951) producing around 50 additional horsepower, which often sell for double the cost of a standard 944.
Not surprising for a midlevel sports car, used 944s often have been abused, neglected and heavily modified by former owners. A significant number have either been turned into track day cars or are in a condition for which there is no cost-justifiable path for return to the road. The most common issues with the 944s on the market are previous unfixed accident damage and interiors resembling the condition of Jake’s house after the party. Both are very expensive to put right. A fair number, though, are ready for use and/or need just some basic maintenance. While overall reliable cars, 5-speed gearboxes continue to have a habit of wearing 2nd and 3rd gear synchromesh causing near impossible shifts and popping out after engagement. The 2.5-liter engine timing and balance shaft belts are specified to be replaced every 5 years or 30,000 miles, although modern belts can extend the service interval. Given it is not a tremendously labor-intensive job in comparison to its rivals, as well as the dire piston-to-valve-collision consequences of a broken belt, it makes sense to stay on top of it.
I might never be as cool or dreamy-hot as Jake Ryan was in 1984…and I sure as shit was more likely in high school to be one of Farmer Ted’s friends than to have been Jake. Even if I had a 944 then or now, it probably wouldn’t have changed anything. I suppose it’s accurate to point out that Jake helped make the 944 popular, but even a 944 couldn’t help make an uncool Gen Xer popular like Jake. But maybe that’s the shared legacy of the car and its character – the 944 was the Jake Ryan of sports cars – easy to write off as a stereotypical exercise in style over substance, but in actuality a deeper thought-provoking lynchpin to the feel-good plot.