My Day Off In Ferris Bueller's Ferrari
By Don Sherman
Decades ago in a galaxy far away, I test-drove a faux Ferrari Spider California manufactured by Modena Design & Development, located not in Italy but in El Cajon, California. This Ford V-8-powered kit car was a reasonably accurate visual copy, but one detail about it struck me as odd: the bottom surfaces of the four tailpipe extensions were deeply scratched and flattened.
I discovered what caused the damage upon viewing Ferris Bueller's Day Off, the coolest high-school con job flick ever made. Midway through the film, the car star soars through the air and lands in a shower of sparks. But don't blame Ferris (Matthew Broderick) for abusing one of the most valuable Ferraris ever created. A depraved parking lot attendant piloted the Spider California on its short film flight.
Except that it wasn't a real Spider California. The "making of" material included on the latest Bueller . . . Bueller . . . Edition DVD reveals the truth. Paramount Pictures saved the cost of renting and repairing a real Ferrari by using two Modena Design kit cars as stunt doubles. The car I'd tested between filming and the movie's release was the actual flying machine.
The deception is evident in the film when the parking attendant yanks the kit car's automatic transmission shifter back to drive forward. Another giveaway is the 6500-rpm redline visible in the mileage-unwinding scene; a real Ferrari Spider California's tach has no redline marking.
Modena Design is no longer in business, and the movie car's whereabouts are unknown. Mark Goyette, who designed the kit and is shown above with the movie car, now owns a restoration business in Bennington, Vermont. A 1932 Daimler Double-Six that Goyette restored won Pebble Beach's Best of Show award in 1999.
To discover what I'd been missing all these years, I arranged a drive in a magnificent 1963 Ferrari Spider California owned by Joseph Moch. Contrary to my expectations, it was a joy to experience, with gentle control efforts, a beguiling exhaust note, and a surprisingly compliant ride. Except for close-coupled pedals, the cockpit is nicely tailored. The 3.0-liter V-12 sounds like a well-oiled sewing machine until 4000 rpm, when the million-dollar howl commences. Now I know why Moch calls his Spider, "The only material object I ever loved." ...next page >>