To try a 70-year-old MGA that I could push hard and hit speeds only modern cars can manage was an opportunity I couldn’t turn down. To sample the vintage charm of one of Britain’s most beloved roadsters, assured that something wouldn’t seize or dissolve in protest, was going to be a new experience. I know what it’s like to drive an old MG. My 1964 Austin-Healey Sprite, we call Betty, is a sweetheart driven slowly and sparingly, and with the knowledge that I might not reach our intended destination.
Frontline
Frontline, by contrast, isn’t in the guesswork business. This Abingdon-based specialist has made a name for itself breathing new life into classic MGs for well over 30 years now. Their cars aren’t restorations; they’re re-engineered homages. Each build gets thousands of hours of design, development, and craftsmanship with the explicit aim of enhancing all aspects of the car and the driving experience without disturbing the car’s soul.
The LE50, brutal LE60, and rakish MGB GTs are cars I’ve admired from afar, but this is the first time they’ve turned their attention to the MGA, and it’s arguably their most purist project yet. A car that maintains the original shape and spirit, but underneath, wears Mazda running gear, modern suspension, and brakes that actually inspire confidence.
Frontline
There is also just one Frontline MGA in the world, which made the experience even more special. Having made its international debut at the 82nd Goodwood Members’ Meeting in April, the lucky owner allowed a handful of journalists to be part of the breaking-in team, each of us given the chance to drive the car for a couple of hours.
And we couldn’t have asked for a better setting. A cloudless stretch of Oxfordshire countryside, sun glinting off deep green paintwork, and miles of twisty B-roads begging to be explored.
The question we wanted to find the answer to was could this be the classic dream reimagined or had the soul of the MGA been lost in its pursuit of perfection?
Style & Design: Vintage Looks, Modern Intent
On approach, the silhouette of the Frontline MGA Factory Edition is unmistakably 1950s, low-slung, long-nosed, impossibly pretty, but the detailing hints at something far more contemporary under the skin. The British Racing Green paint is so deep and lustrous it looked poured on, while it sits on traditional knock-off 15-inch 72-spoke wire wheels wrapped in Continental UltraContact tires. For the purposes of the drive event, Dunlop-style alloys were fitted to save Frontline’s engineers the headache of cleaning the hundreds of spokes after each drive.
As the Factory Edition, it represents Frontline’s own vision of how the MGA should exist in the modern era. But that doesn’t mean owners are locked into a spec sheet. The car is highly bespoke, and Frontline will walk buyers through every element of trim, finish, and functionality, either in person at their Oxfordshire HQ (a purpose-built facility originally commissioned by Benetton but never occupied) or remotely via samples and spec kits shipped globally.
Frontline’s founder, Tim Fenna, suggests that “the MGA would make a great basis for a Sebring MGA reinterpretation,” complete with a louvred bonnet, Perspex screens, and roundels on the doors.
Inside the Reimagined Icon
You can even choose between traditional leather upholstery or Alcantara, fluted or quilted stitching, bespoke Smiths dials, and even modern touches like heated seats, Bluetooth audio, or hidden air-conditioning, especially popular with coupe buyers and US clients. It’s a restomod, but one that respects your own preferences.
Inside, the blend of old and new continues. Leather-wrapped surfaces, beautifully machined details, and vintage switchgear give the impression of an unspoiled classic but without the typical vintage flimsiness.
Each car uses up to five full cowhides of leather, with surplus material kept on-site. That leftover leather is catalogued and stored for future use, meaning if an owner damages part of their interior, it can be perfectly matched and repaired, even years down the line.
Before setting off on a drive I was promised by Connor Matthews, Frontline’s Commercial Director, that I would not be comfortable. That’s partly a result of the seats being trimmed and fitted for a petite lady, but also because this is a snug little car at the best of times. And while the low-slung position feels brilliant behind the wheel, that mercifully detaches, allowing for easier ingress and egress, there wasn’t much space to stretch. That said, Frontline insists that cars can be configured for drivers up to 6’3″, and the interior layout is tailored during the build.
On the Road: Driving the Dream, Without the Drama
To get going, you tap the immobiliser (try explaining that to a 1960s buyer), turn the key, then yank the pull starter switch. The MGA fires up with a bark and settles into a deliciously tuned idle, the sort that makes you want to tap the throttle just to hear the note shift. And as a deliberate nod to the original, letting go of the fly-off handbrake is the final nostalgic act before setting off for a spirited drive.
There’s no ceremony, no fuss. The 2.0-litre Duratec engine, co-developed with Ford and Mazda, settles quickly into a rhythmic idle with a rich, baritone note. This is a proper, fuel-injected, high-revving four-pot with individual throttle bodies and a modern ECU, producing 225 bhp and 178 lb-ft of torque. That’s more than triple the output of the original car.
Weighing just 815 kg, the Factory Edition achieves a power-to-weight ratio of 276 bhp per ton and accelerates from standstill to 60 mph in 4.8 seconds. That’s brisk in any era. In a 1950s shape, it feels otherworldly.
The Mazda-sourced five-speed gearbox is a revelation. The shift action is snick-snick mechanical: light, precise, and beautifully weighted. With short throws and clear gates, it’s easily one of the best gearboxes in any car, classic or modern. The gearing had been tailored for its owner, with longer ratios for relaxed cruising, but even so, I found myself rowing through the gears just for the pleasure of it.
Noise is an important characteristic for me, so I was thrilled to hear the perfectly tuned exhaust snarl and bark like an old-school race car. The brakes are another revelation. With four-piston front calipers and ventilated discs, you don’t have to “hope” the car will stop. You know it will. Pedal feel is firm and progressive, with none of the vagueness that plagues older systems.
Handling is similarly sharp. The car swaps the original leaf-spring setup for a five-link Nitron rear suspension, fully adjustable, and tuned specifically by Frontline. Up front, you get telescopic dampers for precise body control. The result is a car that corners flat, responds eagerly, and remains composed without ever feeling disconnected.
The electric power steering is adjustable to suit your preference, offering more feedback when you want it or lighter effort for relaxed driving. The steering wheel sits close to your body, with your elbows in and hands positioned tightly, which may feel compact at first but ultimately suits the focused, classic driving position. It responds with the precision of a modern sports car without feeling artificial.
Under the Skin: Craft, Power and Precision
This isn’t just a classic fitted with a few modern parts. The chassis has been reinforced, a limited-slip differential has been added and paired with uprated driveshafts, and the suspension geometry has been carefully reworked. Every component has been stripped back, re-evaluated, and rebuilt with modern tolerances and a clear sense of engineering purpose.
You get:
- Mazda 5-speed manual gearbox
- A lightweight aluminium-block Duratec engine
- Power-to-weight ratios that rival a Lotus Elise
- Four-piston brakes up front, two-piston rear, ventilated discs
- Five-link Nitron rear suspension with fully adjustable dampers
- 45L fuel tank, top speed of 155 mph
- Electric power steering
While this was the first of its kind, requiring over 3,500 hours of labour, future MGA builds should take closer to 3,000 hours (which is similar to the MGB) depending on the condition of the donor car. Frontline currently quotes around nine months to complete a car, MGA or MGB, and with interest growing fast, there’s already a two-year waiting list.
But here’s the smart bit: not all of this tech is locked behind a six-figure check. Roughly 40% of Frontline’s business still comes from parts, not full builds. That means owners of humble MGBs, MGAs, or Sprites like Betty can tap into the same R&D for a fraction of the outlay.
Verdict: Nostalgia Done Right
Driving the Frontline MGA Factory Edition was a genuine thrill. It gives you all the old-school charm of a 70-year-old British roadster, but once the road opens up, you’re met with an exhilarating, confidence-inspiring experience that wouldn’t feel out of place in a modern OEM sports car. This is the ideal machine for someone who wants the look and feel of a vintage icon without any of the mechanical compromise. It’s what you buy if you’ve always loved the idea of a classic but don’t want to be punished for it.
Would I trade in Betty for it? That’s a tough one. Despite appearances, they’re so very different. She’s an original, and I like my classics exactly as they were, imperfections and all. That’s part of the ownership experience I signed up for.
That said, if money were no object and I could afford to drop £145,000 + VAT (plus the donor car and options) on a grown-up toy, I’d absolutely have one of these. Not to replace Betty, but to sit alongside her. A kindred spirit that will definitely get you to your destination and make fellow road users go cross-eyed when you leave them in a cloud of old-school glory and modern acceleration.
For the rest of us, it is worth remembering that Frontline’s services are not limited to full builds. Their brake kits, suspension systems, and driveline upgrades are all available individually. For a fraction of the cost, you can bring some of this car’s composure, control, and confidence to the one already parked in your garage. That is probably what Betty is getting next. She will still be herself, just with slightly better stopping power and a little less fear in the corners.