There are some things in life that don’t need changing. Marmite. Vinyl records. The correct way to make a cup of tea. And for a long time, the MG MGA – that achingly pretty slice of 1950s British optimism – was considered one of those things. It was light, it was low, it had curves in all the right places, and it looked marvellous parked outside a pub in the Cotswolds.
But as with many things from the Fifties, it also came with a few period-appropriate quirks. Like leaf springs. And braking distances measured in furlongs. And a handling setup apparently based on the cornering capabilities of a canoe.
Enter Frontline Cars, a company from Abingdon – the spiritual home of MG – who, rather bravely, decided that the MGA had unfinished business. What they’ve come up with is the Frontline MGA Factory Edition, a restomod with just enough modernity to make it usable, and just enough nostalgia to make your inner anorak sigh with pleasure.
Let’s start with the numbers, because frankly, they’re hilarious. The whole thing weighs 815kg – which is about the same as two fridges and a Labrador – but it’s powered by either a 2.0-litre or 2.5-litre naturally aspirated Duratec engine. The smaller one makes 225 horsepower. The bigger one? 290. That means you’re getting something close to Caterham performance in a shape that looks like it should be piloted by a man in a cravat and stringback gloves.
It’s not all about thrust, though. The whole chassis has been reworked using grown-up engineering. The leaf springs are gone, replaced by a proper five-link rear setup with Nitron adjustable suspension and telescopic dampers up front. There’s a limited-slip diff, upgraded brakes with four-piston callipers, and – brace yourself – power steering. Electronic, yes, but apparently adjustable and tuned so it doesn’t feel like you’re playing Gran Turismo on ‘easy’.
Now, to purists, this might all sound like a hatchet job. But here’s the clever bit: they haven’t messed with the way it looks. The silhouette is unchanged. It still has that unmistakable, low-slung, open-top charm. But now the lights are LEDs, the sidelights have been binned, and there’s a discreet Frontline logo etched into the lamps. It’s a bit like fitting a Rolex movement into your granddad’s old Smiths watch.
The interior? Well, that’s up to you. Everything is customisable through Frontline’s Bespoke programme. You want a boot modified to hold a picnic set and a bottle of Bolly? Fine. You want louvres on the bonnet and a Perspex screen so you can feel like Stirling Moss? Also fine. They even offer remote configuration meetings, which I assume means someone in tweed appears on Zoom with a swatch book and a knowing smile.
Each car starts life as a fully restored MGA body, and the attention to detail is, frankly, neurotic. These aren’t quick projects – Frontline takes its time. But the result is something that doesn’t just celebrate British motoring heritage. It reinterprets it in a way that makes it relevant, fast, and dare I say it – cool.
The MGA Factory Edition makes its debut at the 82nd Goodwood Members’ Meeting, which is about as appropriate as launching a Spitfire at the Battle of Britain Airshow. Production will happen at Frontline’s Oxfordshire HQ, with right- and left-hand drive versions available for export – particularly to the USA and Australia, where the MGA was always treated with the reverence it deserved.
So, is it sacrilege? Is it genius? I’d argue it’s a bit of both. It’s still an MGA, but it’s one you can drive daily, cane on a B-road, and even trust to start on a damp Tuesday morning. That, to me, is progress. And it still looks cracking outside a pub.