Car Show Classic: 1997 Venturi Atlantique 300 – On the Other Side of the Atlantique

“What are you doing here?!?” It’s a cliched phrase – uttered in so many TV shows when an unlikely character shows up at an improbable time. But sometimes, there are things that one sees in life that warrant a cliche. And coming across this incredibly rare French sports car in the American Rust Belt had me saying this exact phrase to myself. As I laid eyes upon a rare sight – a car that I was totally unfamiliar with – and after learning exactly what it was, I’m almost as puzzled as I was before learning anything. Indeed, what are you doing here?

If you’re unfamiliar with Venturi as an automaker, you’re in good company; I don’t believe I had ever heard of them until I saw this very car at the Pittsburgh Vintage Grand Prix. And after doing some sleuthing on their history, I’m more surprised at how wild this company’s journey has been. Almost as surprised as I was finding this particular car in my neck of the woods.

Venturi began life as a boutique automaker in France in 1984. With the goal of creating a proper French GT car to compete with legends like Aston Martin and Porsche, Venturi produced mid-engined vehicles through the end of the 20th Century. Power came from several versions of the PRV(Peugeot Renault Volvo) V6, the same engine found in the DeLorean, connected to Renault gearboxes, all wrapped in sleek, lightweight fiberglass bodywork. Maybe nothing groundbreaking per se — Alpine was doing the exact same thing at the same time — but certainly more the sum of its parts.

Our featured car is a 1997 Atlantique 300. The 300 began production one year earlier, and gained more rounded styling and a more powerful 3-Liter engine over earlier Venturis, though still retaining pop-up headlights even as they were rapidly becoming passe by the late 90s. Nowadays, though, your average internet gearhead loves them. Fashion is truly cyclical, I guess.

Speaking of fashion, compared to the busy and often-overwrought styling of modern supercars, the 300 is downright understated. It has the right shape, but lacks the complex edges and origami-esque folds we’re so used to on cars like this nowadays. And much like the Lotus Esprit of the same era, it’s clearly wearing the clothes of an even older era, but spruced up in a new way to look less out of style. It works for it, though. I was far more drawn to the subtle curves and clean lines of the Venturi over the scads of flashy new hypercars a few yards away. A little black dress may not turn heads at the Met Gala, but it also never goes out of style.

And like an LBD, British Racing Green never gets old, either. It won’t turn as many heads in traffic as a rosso corsa will, but it suits a car like this. Premium, but not flashy. Stealth wealth, if you will. But wait, isn’t Venturi a French company? Oh, don’t worry, we’ll get to that subject in a moment.

But back on topic, the Atlantique’s interior more than makes up for any lack of exterior pizzazz. Despite mid-engined cars often putting driving dynamics over comfort, no such compromise exists here, and plenty of wood and leather make this quite an inviting car to sit in. Those seats look like they would make such a satisfying sound when you sit in them, too. Venturi set out to make a world-class grand tourer, and at least to my eye, it looks like they succeeded. But don’t just take my word for it; famously-curmedgeonly Jeremy Clarkson quite liked the Atlantique, too.

Unfortunately, comfy seats and journalistic praise didn’t translate to sales figures for Venturi. In 16 years of series production, Venturi produced somewhere around 750 total cars. They were sold twice in the 1990s, once to a Scotsman and another to a Thai gentleman, but ultimately they couldn’t make the original business model work. In the year 2000, Monegasque businessman Gildon Pallanca Pastor bought Venturi, and its time as both a French enterprise and traditional automaker came to a close as the new millennium began.

Now based in Monaco, Venturi moved away from both mass production and internal combustion, as the company began to focus on electric propulsion, concept vehicles, and low-volume production of specialty vehicles. And the cars they designed in the Aughties certainly cannot be said to be understated in any way. Speaking from personal experience, we all reinvent ourselves at some point in our lives; sometimes radically so. And beyond vehicle styling, going electric more than a decade before anyone else is certainly a bold move. Trendsetters come in all forms.

Engine bay of the 1997 Venturi

But the traditional Atlantique still has a gasoline engine as its beating heart. Squirreled away under this tiny opening is the 3-Liter variant of the venerable PRV V6, found in such vehicles as the Renault Espace and a Monaco of a different sort — the Dodge Monaco. Pedestrian, maybe, but the lightweight 300 was pretty sprightly for its time, making 207 horsepower breathing naturally and 70 more with an optional turbo. One year after our featured car was built, a twin-turbo Atlantique debuted, making over 300 HP and hitting 60 MPH in less than 5 seconds. Not bad for an engine used on a minivan.

Rear quarter view of a 1997 Venturi. A more modern supercar peeks in nearby

But even strapping two spinny bois to the engine couldn’t generate enough interest to keep the Atlantique, or Venturi automobiles in general, on the market. Production ended in 2000 with the ownership change, and the now-Monegasque Venturi has never looked back.

Since the 2000s, Venturi has had quite an interesting journey. The company has sponsored several “Missions” to remote regions of the globe to showcase what electric power trains can accomplish, and were one of the first manufacturers to back the newly-christened Formula E in the early 2010s. Recently, Venturi has decided that its destiny resides in the stars, and has moved into the space industry, designing tires for lunar rovers and inking deals with NASA and SpaceX. Who would’ve thought this green wedge would be kinda-sorta related to a spacecraft?

Almost as unlikely as a niche French sports car from the 90s ending up with Pennsylvania plates. Parked among a smattering of Citroens, this Venturi may be but one of many rare and unique cars at the Grand Prix, but for its owner to go through all that trouble to get it here it must be something special. And in an increasingly homogenous automotive landscape, anything out of the ordinary becomes extraordinary by default. Even without that disclaimer, the Atlantique certainly seems like a magnificent car, and it’s only a shame that more people, including myself, didn’t get a chance to experience it before.

Tres Magnifique.