Monogram Packard Phaeton Speedster
When talk turns to Detroit, words like "decline" and "blight" are often tossed out. The former Packard plant on East Grand Boulevard is a great example of the rise and fall of The Motor City. This plant, abandoned for decades, made news in early 2019 when it's famous footbridge collapsed onto the street below. Though plans are afoot to redevelop the area, and perhaps even restore and repurpose the sprawling facility (or at least portions of it), the plant as it stands today is a decaying shadow of it's former glory. At one time, that very plant produced some of America's finest automobiles.
The Packard Motor Car Company was founded in 1899 by James Ward Packard. You could say that Packard was the Ferruccio Lamborghini of his day. Much like Lamborghini struck out on his own after being disappointed by his Ferrari, James Ward was furious after a brand new Winton broke down on him. Packard approached Alexander Winton with suggestions and ideas on how to improve the car. Naturally, these unsolicited tidbits fell upon deaf ears. So, along with his brother William and a partner by the name of George Weiss, he founded his own company in Warren, Ohio. The company would move to Detroit in 1903 and remain there until the fateful merger with Studebaker in 1954.
During it's glory years, Packard developed a reputation for being one of the finest motorcars on the market. Hand built and pricey, a Packard was just a bit higher up the status ladder than a Cadillac or Lincoln, but perhaps not as high up as a Duesenberg. Packard even built heavy trucks for a while, though their soft, cushy, and large luxury cars are what really earned them their storied reputation. And that reputation was worldwide... by 1930 Packard was exporting more cars than any other American luxury manufacturer. The Japanese royal family alone owned ten of the excellent automobiles.
But the Great Depression hit everyone hard. While Cadillac, Lincoln, and Chrysler were owned by (or divisions of) larger mainstream automakers, and therefore could absorb a larger financial impact. Packard was not, being a truly independent firm. But Packard had a few benefits other premium manufacturers lacked... mainly manufacturing capital and the ability to adapt. Packard introduced a lower-priced 120 Series, which was built at it's own dedicated facility, and utilized the latest production-line techniques in it's assembly. While these lower-priced models helped Packard in the short term, the presence of the "cheaper" car did diminish the image of the larger, more expensive hand-built models by quite a degree. Packard never quite rebuilt it's image, and by 1957, when Packards became nothing more than Studebakers with some extra chrome and fiberglass decorations, the damage was done. Packard was dead, and aside from a few third-party coachbuilt cars and a failed 1999 revival that looked like the love child of a Zimmer neo-classic and the 6000 SUX from RoboCop, the prestigious motor company lived on only in legend.
But, let's not talk about the end. Let's look at a kit of a beautiful luxury cruiser from a time when Packard was, arguably, at the top of it's game. Ironically this kit dates back to 1975, when the auto industry as a whole was most certainly not at the top of it's game.
This 1987 reissue features lovely box art showing the car with a stone structure in the background. The kit represents a 1930 model. A 1930 would be a "Seventh Series" in Packard parlance. Beginning in 1923, Packard began referring to it's cars as a "Series" rather than using a model year. This accomplished two things. First, it did not lock Packard into a model year, so changes could be rolled out at the company's leisure. Sometimes a series would last two years, but more often than not, the car was referred to as a different series each year. Two, this would help to confuse curious peons who would dare to pester you about your car. If a peasant were to ask "Hey, nice car! What year is it?" You could, politely but condescendingly, mumble "It's a Seventh Series" and that nosy passerby wouldn't find out your gorgeous new luxury car was actually a five-year-old heap.
The Speedster was Packard's shot at a "sporty" luxury car, an eight-cylinder car built on a chassis with a wheelbase 14" shorter than the Deluxe Eight model. That meant it was downright svelte for luxury car of the era, with a wheelbase of 126.5". Speedsters were available in roaster or phaeton body styles, and Monogram released a it of each version. Monogram did a pretty good job capturing the look back in 1975, and the mold seams are faint and in logical locations. The separate side vents are chrome plated, though I have seen 1:1 cars with body-color vents.
This kit is loaded with fine detail. While Monogram kits often get kneecapped for being oversimplified, when the gang at Monogram pulled out all the stops, we got some truly great kits that have held up to the test of time. Kits like the Mack Bulldog, '41 Lincoln Continental, and of course, this Packard. The engine would be a nice model project by itself. Few engines look cooler than a Packard flathead straight eight. I'm always amused by the sizes of transmissions on early cars... they always seem so dinky compared to the engine. Speaking of transmissions... Packard was the first independent automaker to produce it's own automatic transmission, rather than purchasing one from GM as pretty much every other automaker did up until the early 1950's. Obviously this 1930 model has a standard transmission.
For it's time, the 1930 Packard interior was cushy. By today's standards, even a base model Mirage seems like the lap of luxury compared to a 1930's Packard gut... which seems more like a horse buggy. Back then, luxury was about size, number of cylinders, and build quality. Yes, technology and features were part of it, but technology and features that were advanced... for 1930. You can choose top up or down, and either way the interior will be on full display.
I just thought of something.... Monogram and Packard had similar fates. Both were long-running, reputable companies in their respective fields, and both were ultimately were merged with another company and ended up becoming nothing more than a brand name. Some of that former Monogram greatness shines through on the Packard's multi-piece chassis and the realistic spare tire covers. The fine detailing on the steering wheel and chassis reflect Packard's former greatness. Clean and simple design, with just a touch of artistic flair. Ah, classic luxury!
The real car had very little glass, so naturally the kit follows suit. The tall, slender tires bear no sidewall lettering, but boast separate wide whitewall inserts. So, stop it with all the "blank sidewall blues" you're noticing in newer kits. It's been going on for decades.
Beginning sometime in the 50's, "luxury" meant "hey.... let's just staple 800 pounds of brightwork to an already gaudy design". Packards were always minimalistic when it came to bright trim, even toward the bitter end. And the chrome parts in this kit are nicely plated. I love the chrome plating on late '80's and earlier kits. None of that nasty, thick clear slime more recent kits seem to have. You know, the stuff that gums up the fine details and is damn-near impossible to remove completely? There are many fine engraved details on the Packard parts, and none of it is glopped up with a thick undercoat.
One thing is unclear to me. The kit has eight-lug wheels, while several online sources state that the Seventh series switched to a seven-lug hub pattern. That would mean that the Monogram kit depicts a Sixth Series (1929) model, despite what the instruction sheet and licence plate engravings would suggest. Honestly there was not much difference between a Sixth or Seventh Series Packard, so you could refer to the model as either version and not offend too many people.
The kit contains no decal sheet, but there is the traditional Monogram instruction sheet with a brief history of the real car, and clear, well-drawn assembly diagrams.
The days of seeing something like this produced as a new kit are most likely over. But this mid 1970's era kit has held up well, and I have to wonder if a kit of this were produced in 2020 if it would be as good. I haven't gotten around to the building process but if it's anything like any of the other classic Monogram kits it should be a fairly drama-free project. I'll keep you posted!
