It’s Frenchie time again, hon hon hon! We had a gaggle of coupés last time, so let’s continue in that vein, shall we? The term “French GT” is not one that is overused, as there are not many cars could be classified as such. But if there is one that would fit the term perfectly, it would have to be the 1970-75 Citroën SM.
With its space-age styling, Maserati engine, sophisticated chassis and superb handling, the big Citroën has reached icon status, fifty years after the fact. But with under 13,000 units made in five years, not to mention the bankruptcy of both Citroën and Maserati putatively on its conscience, was the SM the ultimate Deadly Sin, or just a case of Franco-Italian sado-masochism?
Even when they were designing the DS, in the early ’50s, Citroën had ideas slightly above their station. This led them to try out a 1.8 litre flat-six, which turned out to be too heavy, thirsty and difficult to cool, so the Traction’s 2-litre 4-cyl. was roped back in instead. With such an engine, any notion of sportiness went out the window, but Citroën kept dreaming of a truly fast DS derivative, given that the engineers figured the rest of the car should be able to handle 200hp with few modifications.
Unable to realize an engine that would satisfy their ambition, Citroën did the next best thing and bought out Maserati in January 1968. The Modenese firm had just developed a 4.1 litre quad-cam V8 for their Indy; Citroën tasked Maserati engineer Giulio Alfieri to lob off a couple of cylinders and reduce total displacement to something in the more tax-friendly 2.7-litre range, but keep the V’s 90-degree angle.
This engine would be mated to a new 5-speed manual gearbox, developed in-house by Citroën. Like the DS, the new Citroën flagship would feature front-wheel drive, all independent self-levelling hydropneumatic suspension, a pair of swivel headlights to see around corners, power steering, in-board front disc brakes, unit body construction and a narrower rear track.
The SM would only feature one noteworthy innovation: the DIRAVI, marketed in Anglo-Saxon countries as “VARI-power” steering. The SM’s hydropneumatically-assisted steering was lighter when the car was at a standstill or going slow, but it got progressively heavier and more direct as speed increased. It would also self-centre automatically. Like many of Citroën hydro concepts, it takes a little getting used to, but once assimilated, this variable self-centering steering is one of the car’s big positives.
As one of the ultimate ‘70s Autoroute-cruisers, the SM had a lot going for it, dynamically. The suspension was a little harsher than the pillow-soft DS, but still extremely comfortable in all circumstances. The car’s tapered aerodynamic shape was a key part of the equation, as the 2.7 litre Maserati V6 only developed 170hp (DIN) in its initial form and the car was pretty heavy. Nonetheless, a top speed of 220kph was possible, making the SM the fastest FWD production car of its time.
And of course, there was the styling – a major tour de force by Citroën’s in-house team, headed by Robert Opron. The rear end was a little fussy, with that oddly-shaped chrome trim above the taillight clusters, but the rest of the car was simply out of this world.
The year 1970 was to be a busy one for Citroën. In the autumn, at the Paris Motor Show, they would finally launch their mid-size car – the GS, which was to fill the gaping hole between the Ami and the DS. But before that, at the Geneva show in March 1970, the SM was premiered. Production took a few months to get going in earnest, but by the start of MY 1971, the new top-of-the-range coupé was in dealerships everywhere, in both domestic and several overseas markets.
This was the first truly luxurious Citroën in living memory – and the first French GT since Facel-Véga had gone under in the mid-‘60s. On the domestic market, the SM simply had no rival. But the European competition was fierce. Price-wise, the SM was well below exotic blue-bloods like Aston Martin or Ferrari, but it did have to contend with a number of interesting challengers.
The SM was, in its home market, a pretty compelling proposition. Abroad, things were a bit more complicated: the Citroën emblem did not carry the same cachet as, say, the BMW roundel or the Jaguar growler did in their respective home turfs. Italy was an exception to this rule: the SM’s engine was a great selling point, helping the car to do very well there. In all, just over half of the production was exported.
But the ace in the hole was the US market, which Citroën were still active in at the time. And the SM was fêted there as the GT everyone was waiting for. It did mean the dramatic six-light front end had to be defaced with quad (and fixed) sealed beams, but the car still made a triumphal entrance as Motor Trend’s COTY for 1972. Sales were brisk, but brief: the imposition of the dreaded 5mph bumpers, which Citroën were unable to comply with, meant all US exports were cancelled after MY 1973.
The issue with the SM was that Citroën were, by the time of the car’s launch, pretty much bled dry of development cash. They did have the means to develop an EFI system for the Maserati V6, which was implemented at the start of MY 1972 (for EU-spec cars only) and provided an extra 10hp. But there was little else that the French firm could do with the big coupé, especially body-wise. Which is a pity as there was some demand for a 4-door version, and possibly other variants.
A lot of thought went into the SM saloon. Chapron went in several different directions, from line drawings to renderings and 1/5th scale models – each slightly different, but each with a separate trunk. Heuliez (top right) designed a simple stretch that would carry over the coupé’s tail – but this never made it into the third dimension. Many years after the SM’s demise, Georges Regembeau hand-made a single four-door that seemed close to the Heuliez idea, albeit using the coupé’s short wheelbase and Regembeau’s own 2.5 litre turbo-Diesel engine and 6-speed gearbox.
The ”production” Chapron four-door design, as shown in 1972, was the above Opéra berline. It cost a proverbial arm and leg, so only eight were ever made. Chapron also produced a handful of their Mylord cabriolets, but at three times the cost of a factory coupé, demand was somewhat muted.
A strange combination of both designs was made in 1972 for the Elysée Palace. These presidential parade cars were stretched even more than the “normal” Opéras. They remained in service for well over 30 years.
Among the one-off SMs was the Espace T-top; carrosserie Heuliez made two in 1971-72. Pietro Frua also authored a (very Italian) single coupé in 1972, and it could be said that Bertone’s stillborn 1974-77 Maserati Quattroporte II was a Citroën SM in all but name…
Sales were initially pretty good – the big Cit was the toast of the left-hand lane in 1971 and 1972 (and of the right-hand lane too, though Citroën neglected to develop a RHD version). But soon, cracks started to appear. The SM was expensive, but also very, very complex, and Citroën just weren’t set up to take care of the type of clientele that bought these.
The Maserati engine was an expensive Italian diva, whose whims were not well-served by grease-monkeys who were used to fixing 2CVs with hammers. They proved fragile, as did some of the ancillaries used on the SM, such as the A/C system, and it took an inordinate amount of time for the cars to be fixed under warranty. Sales plateaued in 1973 and the Oil Shock happened. France enacted stringent speed limits on their highways, the price of petrol skyrocketed – the SM’s goose was well as truly cooked.
Actually, it was Citroën’s goose that was getting cooked. The carmaker’s main back, Michelin, wanted out and the French government hurriedly arranged a shotgun marriage with Peugeot in late 1974. There had been under 300 SMs built that whole year – over 10 times less than 1973. Production was moved to Guy Ligier’s works for MY 1975, barely 100 additional cars were made and Peugeot called it quits. Abysmal sales were one thing, but Maserati was being sold off as well, so sourcing engines would become an issue in short order.
Our feature car is an interesting one, as it’s both a superb shade of “silvery green” (vert argenté) and a French market car (like the majority of the 13,000 SMs made), but it has the Borg-Warner 3-speed slush box, something found on only about 10% of SMs. This Automatique variant only appeared on the European market in late 1973 – prior to that date, all automatics were destined for the US. The EU-spec automatic version was a little different from the US one, in that it was given a slightly de-tuned 3-litre carburated V6 from the Merak, as opposed to the fuel-injected 2.7 litre found in manual cars. Despite this, the 3-speed auto limits the car’s top speed to about 205kph – a good 20kph less than with the manual / EFI.
There probably was never a world in which the SM experiment was going to end well. Too complex for its maker’s clients and dealership network, too alien for the folks who bought Mercedes-Benzes and Jaguars, too expensive for DS owners, it’s a small miracle that it sold as well as it did. But had it debuted in 1967 or 68 and had Citroën been able to make a four-door version, perhaps it could have survived a little longer, instead of being one of the Yom Kippur War’s collateral damage victims.
As such, the SM can be seen as just another failed French entry in the executive car game. But it’s more than just that — more than a mere Peugeot 604 or Renault Vel Satis. The SM is both Sa Majesté, a rare attempt at a blue-blooded GT, and outright Sado-Masochism for the sheer amount of hubris that Citroën displayed in designing and marketing a car that was out of their league.
Related posts:
Curbside Classic: 1972 Citroen SM – Gran Touring, Franco-Italian Style, by Tom Klockau
Car Show Classic: 1972 Citroën SM Opéra – The Final Stretch, by T87
CC Monday Morning Rarities: Citroën SM – A Fleeting Masterpiece, by JohnH875
The automatic used was a Borg-Warner Type 35. The 35 was originally developed for rear drive cars, but B-W was willing to reconfigure it as needed. It was installed transversely, under the engine, driving the front wheels, by Austin. It was installed longitudinally, under the engine, driving the front wheels, by Saab. In the Citroen, it was installed longitudinally, in front of the engine, driving the front wheels.
A Type 35 salvaged from an SM.
A few SMs usually show up at the Orphan show in Ypsilanti.
The paint, like most everything else about the car, is jaw-dropping. I suppose there’s no chance it’s original?
The engines on these cars could be robust with regular maintenance. The camshaft chains in particular need periodic adjustment. There’s a gent in Washington state who owns an SM with well over 200,000 miles on it. I wonder if the SM’s V6 has anything in common with Biturbo’s .
that Citroën in Green is Hot. I love that car.
A car so fugly, not even it’s mother could love it.
It was created entirely by men, so that solves that problem.
They’re definitely a very unusual looking car – but you really need to see one in the flesh to understand what they’re about. An SM has astonishing presence and charisma; they really do come across as an exotic spaceship.
Maybe not to everyone’s taste, but that’s often the case with great art.
It’s amazing that these cars, designed a half-century ago, are still jaw-droppingly fascinating to look at. Not just the SM, but the DS too. Just last week a DS drove by my house while I was sitting on my porch (a black DS… never seen it around here before), and as always it was thrilling to see one in motion.
I love admiring these at car shows, but despite my enthusiasm, it’s a car I can’t fathom owning, even if I had the resources for it. And incidentally, I think this green is the SM’s best color.
Having never seen one in the metal, a question for those who have… was the SM an honest 4-seater, or was it more of a 2+2?
was the SM an honest 4-seater, or was it more of a 2+2?
Seems I did not take any pix of the interior. Looking at the cutaway view in the article above, the back seat bottom is quite a bit higher than the bottom of the front seat. Add the high seat bottom to the sloping roof, and I can’t imagine anything resembling an adult human fitting back there.
Have a thing for French cars in general, and imo this is an ultimate manifestation of one. Have always wanted an SM since R&Ts review at the time, believing I could deal with the peccadillos inevitably involved. A snow white one from Quebec showed up at the Stowe VT car show some years ago, looking magnificent, the styling is indeed out of this world, and running well enough to get there evidently, but I didn’t have the rather high asking price at the time. Many regrets ever since.
My dream car!
Magnificent in all respects – and as others have said, can be made reliable. And, as Clarkson would say “just look at it!”. Opron’s team knocked it out of the park.
The Michelin composite wheels on the green SM leading the red 2CV in the photo above, the swivelling headlamps, manual shifter using a metal sleeve instead of a gaiter, the wonderful seats, the sculptural dashboard – all these wonderful elements combined in that spectacular exterior form. Magnifique!
One wonders if Citroen could have had more success by using a different name – Panhard, perhaps, or revived a classic Grand Routier name such as Delage, Voisin or Delahaye, much like Toyota uses Lexus for it’s high end products?
That’s interesting. I’ve never thought of the name thing, even though I’ve always associated the shape of this machine with some ultra-glamorous coachbuilt late ’30’s French Grand Rooster.
Great essay on a car that I have always admired. Worth my time to read your article. Aa, yes, it is definitely FRENCH!
My dream car!
That’s why my friend bought one (with a fluid leak) in the late 80s and immediately regretted it. I drove it briefly–more boat-like than our ’56 Olds, with brakes even iffier. Don’t meet or buy your boyhood heroes!
I hear what you say about driving your automotive heroes.
Thing is that these are old cars and condition is important. The first C2 Corvette I drove was utterly dreadful and nearly put me off for life, the next one was great and I bought it. Turned out to be one of the best driving cars I have ever owned and impressed others, too.
SMs shouldn’t be that “boat” like. they had a firmer set up than the DS, and shouldn’t be too floaty, although all big Cits roll more than average. The brakes should be really strong – overly sensitive in fact, unless you are delicate. Seems the one you drove had hydraulic problems.
I have friends who have driven healthy ones and they claim the SM drives beautifully once you get used to the tiny control inputs needed. The Maserati motors are apparently pretty dependable if maintained properly with early production problems corrected to later specs (cam chain tensioners, for instance). Gearboxes are strong, too. The DS/SM/CX, etc suspension system is really reliable – many friends with CXs that have 200,000+km on them. Spheres are eaier to change than conmventional springs and dampers, btw.
So yeah, I would definitely like to meet this particular hero!
As someone who’s never been quite as enamored by the styling of the DS the SM is really the redeeming design for me, I agree the rear end is fussy (but so is the DS) but my goodness that dash, that hardtop roofline, that crazy(European spec) headlight setup, it’s just so cool. It’s got that same teardrop profile the DS has but it’s longer lower and has a raked windshield to match. The DS is interesting for the era it came from for sure, but in the same way a VW bug is, while the SM looks truly exotic like a spaceship. And technology wise it seems it may as well be with out of this world hydro mechanical technology this species isn’t equipped to comprehend or maintain!
Given the dumpy US spec round headlights it’s probably for the best our draconian bumper laws didn’t plague this design further.
I like Citroens and keep buying them, beautiful to drive, you dont know till you try one, but Citroen makes mistakes, the did the same thing in the 00s, They took the car I daily and enlarged it into the C6, Tatra has found some of those rare critters in his travels, very rare here but so is my car, only a small batch arrived here.
Its illegal to sell a new Citroen north of Mexico so a lot of you will never see newer models, Its not common to see the bigger models here and we get them new, I should write this thing up, but I’d have to wash it for pics.
Well, you’re retired (I think?), so do it! Don’t worry too much about the words, CC’ll edit you nicely, and it would be of interest to folk to hear from an owner of what is an exotic in the US.
After all these years it still remains a fascinating but enigmatic car.
It could only have come from Citroen. Peugeots were too serious, they would never have tried this. Renaults were too cheap, to utilitarian, they did not dream. I used to wonder whther it would have done better if it could have come to market earlier, but it reads as though production was already trailing off before the oil shock hit. Or should that be demand was trailing off?
Imagine if this could have given rise to a whole range positioned above the DS, with sedans, even an estate, perhaps with the full Maserati V8 as a range-topper?
But no.
They banked on 50% US sales – it peaked at 20%. Then they couldn’t sell it after ’72 because the variable height suspension made the lights illegally moveable in the US rulebook, let alone the lack of 5 mph bumpers. Then they didn’t offer an auto (in Europe) till ’74, yet that’s where the GT market had gone. Then they didn’t offer it in RHD (despite building two protos), and the English upper classes – who, let’s face it, are into leather-clad weird, amongst much else – would’ve bought plenty more than the 300 they did, let alone the extra sales in Oz or Japan or Hong Kong. Then, internal politics, Citroen would not heed Maserati’s advice on how to fix the timing chain disaster, so they kept breaking.
And THEN demand tailed off to nothing when the OPEC mob made 14 mpg cars impossible to use, but yes, despite these few items, the Romans never did anything for them, and a full range might have succeeded.
Though I’ve got to say that the thought of an SM 4-door wagon, which would end up looking as elongated as a Checker Aerobus, is not one that will help me sleep.
Sacré Vert !
There was a time in the mid to late 70s that I was fascinated by these cars. They by then were only a little out of my price range and with a Maserati engine they had to be fun. Or so I thought. Perhaps fortunately I never ran across one for sale.
But they were and are still lookers, ok, for a French car, but still. I’d lot rather have one of these than a DeLorean.
Always loved these, but that Fiat Dino 2400 is just gorgeous.
“Oh, do excuse me, sir! I’ll fetch your vehicle immediately, I thought it was this 124 coupe”.
They really are nice, but by comparison to the outlandish Cit, they could almost be called bland.
The convertible, however, woo and hoo!
Photos never do these justice: they look like an actual sculpture in the metal. (I should add “and a beautiful one at that”, it being from a too-long era in which public sculptures all looked like massive piles of de kooning from an omnipotent all-peeing and un-benevolent Dog). Like others above, I want one too, though in my version, another person is paying for its upkeep. Also in my version, it’s got those Heuliez rear-window slats and the horizontal (body-coloured?) ribs across the entire tail light area of the original clay, which helps remove any suggestion that there’s part of an upside-down Peugeot 604 rear attached.
A number them came all the way to Oz in period, whence some brave person was entrusted with the required RHD conversion. Can you just imagine? It’s bad enough just LOOKING under that bonnet, let alone moving lots of vital stuff hither and fro. I once upon an internet rabbit-hole saw a pictorial account of doing so here – the car is stripped to the frame at the front as a beginning of months of full-time work. Upon the journey to re-birth into its new life, it’s not so much that there is a bolognese worth of spaghetti in wiring and hydraulics but more the fear it might actually end up making foodstuffs if the assembly was done inattentively. Apparently, there’s a good 20 of them here now in RHD, and on only two of them does the left tail light turn inwards with each steering movement due to a misdirected spaghetti piece (though it’s said one did rise up and down with each beat of the indicator for a while).
I’d love to know why the (inadequate) timing chain in these rises up weirdly between cylinders in the middle of the engine – sheer anti-French maliciousness from Alfieri? That defamation said, I’d also love to know how that uber-cool floor gearchange – which on all accounts, works just fine – arrives at the front-mounted gearbox after a detour round that V6 (and why the DS couldn’t have had it, for that matter).
Oh well, I’ll never be able to afford one, but I guess it’s a small comfort to know that Citroen really couldn’t either.
These cars are so rare stateside that my primary association has always been Burt Reynolds taking one for a swim in the first few minutes of the movie, The Longest Yard.
I once spotted a small boneyard of DS and SM parts cars behind a Citroen specialist shop in Pennsylvania. Among them was an SM with one of its rear fenders entirely cut away, where I noticed the inner skin of the unibody had a flange-welded seam running right about where you’d expect the rear shutline of a rear door to be, pretty much as seen on the Chapron SM Opéra pics here, suggesting to me that Citroen was already thinking ahead about potential 4-door variants.
I remember the mother of one of my neighbors had one of the same exact green. A very attractive car for our child’s eyes, accustomed only to the neighboring Eldorado and Thunderbird . Their ownership ended with the brakes catching fire.
My beloved Corgi SM is Metallic Raspberry with working doors and hatch and sliding seats. Seeing aphot of a real SM interior was jarring after a decade of 1/43 scale plastic, although the Corgi is quite faithful, albeit monochromatic. My father wangled a test drive in the early 70s and found the hydraulic brake boost a real head trip and overall a very different experience than his old Mercedes 250S.
Fantasy garages always change, but a common entrant is mine is an SM. Green and manual, ideally, but I’ll take this any day.
Headlights that steer with the wheels, great feature and Citroen kept it my car has them, never knew anything about the idea but it works.
Until it was bought by Peugeot, Citroen made cars with their own personality. This lasted until the mid-70s.
It then became a subsidiary. Now under the control of Stellantis its days are numbered.
Merry Christmas to everyone!