Picture the 1980s. Wall Street was booming, shoulder pads were considered high fashion.
And car designers loved bold wedge designs and bright neon colors.
And in this chaos emerged one Warren Mosler—a man who looked at the likes of Porsche, Ferrari and Lamborghini and thought: “I can do better with less. Much less. Like, a Dodge engine and some foamcore.” And remarkably… he wasn’t completely wrong.
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A transcript, cleaned up via AI and edited by a staffer, is below.
[Image: YouTube Screenshot]
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Transcript:
Picture the 1980s. Wall Street was booming, and car designers loved bold wedge shapes and neon colors. Out of this chaos emerged Warren Mosler, a man who looked at Porsche, Ferrari, and Lamborghini and thought, “I can do better with less. Much less. Like a Dodge engine and a phone call.” Remarkably, he wasn’t entirely wrong.
He created the Consulier GTP, a car meant to challenge Europe’s best while being built in a Florida warehouse by a hedge fund manager with little regard for tradition or aesthetics. At first glance, it looked like something designed in Microsoft Paint—part Bricklin, part vacuum cleaner, part melted spaceship. But beneath the odd styling was something brilliant.
The GTP was built almost entirely from composite materials like fiberglass, Kevlar, carbon fiber, and foam. It weighed just under a ton, lighter than a Porsche 911, and that translated into performance. Early models used Chrysler’s 2.2L turbo four-cylinder from the Dodge Shelby GLHS, producing 175 horsepower. That was enough for 0–60 mph in 5.2 seconds, on par with a Ferrari 348, but with sharper handling and fewer reliability issues. Later versions gained a Turbo III engine with 190 horsepower, a Garrett turbo, and 16 valves, reaching a top speed of about 155 mph—impressive for a low-volume American upstart.
Two trims were offered: Sport and LX. The Sport was stripped-down and unforgiving, while the LX added Ricardo seats, leather, an Alpine stereo, video gauges, air conditioning, and even a car phone. One unusual example was finished in white and pink for a calendar shoot, later restored after decades of neglect.
On the track, the GTP proved unstoppable. It won the IMSA Bridgestone Supercar Series and endurance races like the Nelson Ledges 24 Hours, beating Corvettes, RX-7s, and 911s. Organizers eventually imposed weight penalties before banning it outright for being too dominant. Mosler even offered $25,000 to anyone who could beat it with a street car.
Not content, Mosler built even more extreme versions. The Intruder packed a 300-horsepower Corvette LT1 V8, followed by the Raptor with 450 horsepower and a split windshield. Both were brutally fast but heavier and less precise than the GTP. Only six were built.
As for production numbers, estimates suggest fewer than 100 GTPs were made—around 70 turbo cars, 20 race chassis, two roadsters, and assorted parts. Exact figures remain unclear.
The GTP was significant because it foreshadowed the composite revolution nearly two decades ahead of mainstream manufacturers. While Ferrari and Porsche focused on beauty and complexity, Mosler delivered lightweight innovation and raw effectiveness.
The Consulier GTP was the underdog: awkward-looking, wildly fast, and clever enough to terrify racing officials. It embarrassed exotics, looked like a futuristic toaster, and proved you didn’t need to be Ferrari to build a real supercar. Sometimes all it takes is a shed, a Dodge engine, and big ambitions.
The Consulier GTP remains one of America’s greatest overlooked performance cars. And if it returned today, it would still be worth driving—because once you’re inside, you can’t see the design.
