The Cayman Complex is a phenomenon I identified about seven years ago. While the concept isn’t limited to Porsches, the Cayman is the ultimate example. It means an automaker knows how to build the best-possible car but chooses not to.
This story originally appeared in Volume 11 of Road & Track.
SIGN UP FOR THE TRACK CLUB BY R&T FOR MORE EXCLUSIVE STORIES
If every car were as good as it could be, then a hierarchal model range would be meaningless. Plus, every vehicle would cost a fortune. So how do you maintain a hierarchy without being too obvious about it? You want to impress prospective buyers with the spec sheet, making them feel like they’re getting their money’s worth. You also want to offer an even more aspirational product.
The Cayman GT4 and its topless sister, the Boxster Spyder, are Porsche’s best sports cars. But they’re not the best they could be. They are light and the right size for two passengers and luggage. They have excellent transmissions. Their naturally aspirated engines are 4.0 liters—a number that makes Porsche aficionados weep with joy—and are placed amidships for balance that flatters any driver.
But at Porsche, the 911 has its engine out back for various long-standing reasons. The middle is better, which is why Porsche finds creative ways to move every new 911’s engine a bit farther forward. Porsche won’t admit that the Cayman has the better platform. It can’t. The hierarchy must be maintained.
Porsche found ways to tie the Cayman GT4’s hands without making that choice seem conscious. The 4.0-liter engine in the GT4 could be the same as the one in the 911 GT3. Porsche claims cost drove that decision, but Cayman and Boxster buyers regularly add tens of thousands of dollars in options. They would spend for the best. Then there’s the gearing, which is far too tall. Second goes to 83 mph and third all the way to 114! Porsche knows that tighter gearing improves acceleration and shorter ratios don’t cost more than tall ones. Why do this?
The new Cayman GT4 RS proves the existence of, and puts an end to, the Cayman Complex. It’s the lightest Cayman ever, with a GT3 engine and nearly 500 hp attached to a close-ratio PDK gearbox. And there’s downforce.
I had only one day on the roads in the GT4 RS. I did 50 highway miles and another 120 in the hills, then ran a bunch of errands on the way home—a real “one-car solution” day. So, what’s this hierarchy-busting Cayman like?
That depends heavily on the road quality. This is a true RS product, which means lightweight panels, bucket seats, and shocks that are brutally stiff even in the softest settings. A big swan-neck wing out back blocks the rearview, and the optional (on this Euro-market car) Clubsport roll bar blocks even more.
Even the mildest road imperfections jostle the Cayman like a skiff during a small-craft advisory. If you enjoy a coffee on your drive to the track or the canyons, pack a bib. Bluetooth phone calls are tough to hear over the abundance of road and engine noise. At freeway speeds, the engine turns at 3000 to 4000 rpm; the new gearing didn’t leave seventh alone for a comfy cruise.
These are not complaints, but simply observations that the GT4 RS has a narrow focus. It will beat the snot out of you if you try to use it as a daily driver, even if it does have reasonable luggage capacity and ample cabin space.
Then I turned off the highway and pointed up a silky mountain pass, and magic presented itself.
Sharing the cabin with a carbon-fiber airbox is a new level of motorsport-grade bliss. Thanks to the airbox, an abundance of revs, and the sharpest throttle control in the business, this RS will play a beautiful metallic symphony conducted by your right foot. The blitzkrieg that drills into your eardrums crossing 8000 rpm is unmatched by anything south of a multimillion-dollar Ferrari F50.
Fortunately, with the new shorter gears, it’s actually possible to reach redline within morally—if not legally—appropriate speeds. The PDK dual-clutch automatic, the only transmission available in the RS, is perfect as can be, ripping off shifts with stunning quickness and precision.
The engine is most effective in the top half of the powerband. It lacks turbochargers to provide shove down low, but because it revs so freely, spending an hour above 6000 rpm is no great hardship. This engine is clearly rooted in decades of podiums at Le Mans and Daytona.
With the nannies turned off, the exhaust valves wide open, and the shocks left in the softest setting (there is never a reason to use any other setting on public roads), the GT4 RS reveals itself. The stunning Highway 39 north of Azusa, California, might as well be the Pikes Peak Hill Climb. The car is mechanically linked to your brain waves. The weight transfer, the feel of changing tarmac surfaces through the tires, the ability to change gear at any point in a corner without upsetting the balance—it’s all as natural as in any car ever. There are faster cars in the world, but I cannot imagine wanting to go any faster up this road. The GT4 RS inspires unmatched confidence. You don’t need the electronics to save you; little bits of adjustment are actually welcome when the car communicates so clearly. Plus—and this is important—the Cayman is the right size.
Naturally, it’s even better on a track, like Southern California’s Streets of Willow, where you don’t just enjoy the sensory experience, but actually get to play at the car’s limits. Its incredibly sharp responses and nuanced feedback allow you to make four or five micro-adjustments per corner. There’s all the justification in the world to keep the engine spinning above 7000 rpm, where your body tingles and the extra power over the standard GT4 is readily apparent. In the chicane, a sharp lift off the throttle shifts the weight just far enough forward to dance the back out. Loading up the beefy carbon-ceramic brakes over and over and hauling down from 140 to 40 is no issue.
The GT4 RS gives you enough immediate confidence to focus on things like line and placement, making it equally rewarding for beginners and seasoned track junkies. And in typical Porsche GT fashion, you can expect a totally stock vehicle to run hard all day at a 100-degree racetrack, air-conditioning blasting, without breaking a sweat. Though a GT3 is still technically faster thanks to extra rear grip, additional downforce, and a dash more power, you’d never be able to tell without a stopwatch. And frankly, the GT4 RS is more fun.
The Porsche Cayman GT4 RS is a celebration of what we love about gas-powered sports cars. Not in the overpowered, cammed-up nostalgic hot-rod way or the toxic “wasting as much fuel as possible for the LOLs” manner. In fact, the GT4 RS is remarkably efficient given its power, with a 400-plus-mile highway range on tap when needed. It celebrates mechanical precision. It’s a master class in feel and acoustic brilliance. Simply put, the GT4 RS is pure automotive excitement.
The next-generation Cayman will be an EV. I’m happy to know that I won’t have to ask “what if” Porsche had broken the Cayman Complex, and that when it did, the car was every bit as magical as I’d hoped. The GT4 RS is the best Porsche sports car of all time. Hierarchy be damned.
