Curbside Classic: 1982 Mitsubishi Galant Sigma (A160) Super Saloon – Even A Stopped Clock…

I can’t quite put my finger on why most Mitsubishis just leave me cold. One thing was their insistence on naming all their cars (or their overseas clones) some combination of “Colt-Galant-Lancer,” making their range stupidly confusing. They ditched their awesome triple-diamond logo and rechristened their cars as MMC for no good reason, then had to revert back to their old corporate identity soon after.

Their designs were hit-and-miss up to the ‘70s, then switched to mostly miss afterwards. Managerial incompetence finally caused their downfall and gradual takeover by Renault-Nissan. Mitsubishi Motors is and has been for a long time the sick man of Japanese carmakers, endlessly smacking their face into glass doors. But this Sigma is still a real gem.

And yes, I’ll be calling this plain Sigma, because “Galant Sigma” is just too damn long and the Greek letter Σ that decorates this car is just too much of a pain to be bothered with. Besides, Galant (and Colt) are so ubiquitous on Mitsubishis of this period as to be meaningless.

The first Sigma (1976-80) was an all-new car replacing the old Galant (a.k.a Dodge Colt in the US, Plymouth Cricket in Canada and Chrysler Valiant Galant in Oz). The Sigma was noticeably bigger than the Galant, but kept its predecessor’s choice of engines (1.6, 1.8 and 2-litre) and RWD layout as was, at least for the domestic market. But styling-wise, the Sigma was a rather significant departure from the norm, i.e. the US-flavoured concoctions brewed by the likes of Datsun, Mazda and Toyota at the time. Well, the front end still had a bit of a transpacific feel, but the rest looked like a mix of Renault, Lancia and British Leyland.

The Sigma did very well in Asia-Pacific markets, as well as South Africa, where it was assembled locally. European reception was a bit more muted and it wasn’t sold (in saloon form) in America, but Mitsubishi clearly thought they had a winning formula. For the second generation, launched in April 1980, the carmaker essentially re-made the same car again, with a few key modifications.

Most notably, the front end got a more aerodynamic nose that ditched the quads in favour of trendier composite headlights – not a problem, since these were never destined to be sold in sealed-beam-land. For its part, the rear end got wraparound lights.

Other than that, the 2nd gen Sigma kept its predecessor’s unique blend of swoopy and clean-cut lines, still underscored by a fair amount of chrome trim. Close scrutiny reveals that most (if not all) of the panels were redesigned in this second iteration, though I’m not sure if the bootlid, the windshield and the rear window weren’t carried over.

The wagon version was most decidedly carried over, on the other hand. Mitsubishi simply gave it the new generation’s front end treatment, but nothing else changed. The Lambda coupé – the only member of the range to have had a career in the States as a Chrysler captive import – was also carried over pretty much unscathed, though less fussy detailing made it a much cleaner design, like the saloon it was hewn from.

Mitsubishi Sigma JDM brochure excerpt, 1983

 

In its home market, the Sigma was offered in the usual gazillion trim variations, with engine options including the 1.6, 1.8 (albeit a new one) and 2.0 4-cyl. petrol engines, as well as a 2.3 litre turbo-Diesel – the first Japanese-made TD. Our feature car is a “Super Saloon,” i.e. fully-loaded, but it’s unclear what engine it has under the hood. The 100hp 1.8 or the non-turbo 2-litre (110hp) would be fine, but the 85hp 1.6 might be a bit sluggish to push a literal ton of Sigma around.

Another Tokyo time capsule! Whoever ordered this car four decades ago had the good sense to opt for the 5-speed manual rather than the 3-speed auto. I guess that makes the GSR wheels this particular car is shod with a bit more justifiable.

Even the back seat looks inviting – certainly more so than that of the contemporary Toyota Corona. And there’s more space than in the Nissan Skyline, too. Maybe that explains why this Sigma did pretty well in places like Australia.

But in its home market, actually, sales eroded pretty quickly. By the end of 1983, saloon versions were no longer produced for the JDM, except for taxi companies. The van/wagon soldiered on until 1985 here, but it (as well as the saloon) lasted until 1987 down under.

The Australian version of the Sigma was a slightly different animal, being offered as a 1.6 and 2-litre like in Japan, but also with the 2.6 litre Astron that wasn’t on the options list for the domestic market. In a bid to weasel out of import quotas, Mitsubishi even tried to sell the Aussie-made Sigma on the British market under the Lonsdale marque in 1982-84, though that experiment was deemed a failure. It seems only Australia saw the appeal of the Sigma in those days.

Well, the person who bought this car when it was new and the one who bought it from them and kept it in this outstanding nick also have a thing for this Mitsu. Add me to the list, of course. And add the Sigma to my personal and very short list of Mitsubishi’s greatest hits. What are the others, you ask?

This is my top five, in no particular order: the original Debonair (1964-86, top left), whose mini-Lincoln looks were so damn cool it could have precipitated a new Ice Age; the 1971-77 Galant GTO coupé (top right) that showed they could make something truly sporty and exciting; the 1965-70 Colt 800/1000 hatchback (bottom left) – very forward-thinking for the time, at least body-wise; the 1978-83 Mirage (bottom left) – a perfectly-timed switch to FWD for the segment.

And to close out the list, the 1980-83 Sigma. Cars of the ‘80s stand out a lot in present-day parking lots, what with their flat panels and angular features. And although I document them and write them up, my tastes go much more towards older vehicles – basically, anything made between 1930 and 1970. But as origami as this Sigma objectively is, it also has a dash of character that was absent on the overwhelming majority of its contemporaries. Well done, Mitsubishi. You’ve made me like an early ‘80s design from a company I don’t typically much care for.

On top of all that, this generation Sigma was also the last new RWD saloon Mitsubishi created before switched to FWD, so it should hold a special place in the carmaker’s history. And Mitsubishi is nothing today if not history.

 

Related post:

CC Outtake: 1978-87 Mitsubishi Sigma – Hugely Popular Becomes Hugely Rare, by William Stopford