Say what you like about the interestingly named new Ford Puma Black, it's definitely black. Black all over. It was the first thing I checked. No attempt to pull the wool over our eyes there. No secret yellow panels. It's as black as it could be.
"But where's the innovation?" you may be saying. And it's true that, for as long as there has been such a thing as a Ford Puma (five years now), it has been possible to buy one in black. Indeed, to judge from the Pumas one sees around the streets - and this was Britain's bestselling small coupe in the first two years of its life, so one tends to see a few - black is the colour people have tended to favour.
Specifically, it has been possible to buy a Puma in a shade that Ford labels (slightly confusingly, in the context of a car so named) "Panther Black". But let's not get into the puma/panther distinction here. Let's just note that it's a jungle out there.
And here, crashing through the undergrowth - in an attempt to stir up some extra interest in the model as it nears the end of its shelf life - comes a special limited edition of the Puma entitled the Ford Puma Black, denoting above all, I suppose, its increased blackness over earlier black Ford Pumas. (It is the case that the black theme continues inside the car to a greater degree than in previously available models, involving lavish use of black leather and black carpeting, which we will come to later.)
It may be that, in this daringly literal act of naming, Ford is launching a belated appeal to that hugely significant yet largely ignored portion of the car-driving public - drivers indifferent to technical detail who, when asked what kind of car they drive, will reply, "A red one". Or it could be that they simply tired of calling their special editions Special Edition.
Whatever, this new Puma does have a unique feature beyond its blackness, which is its 1.7-litre engine, designed specifically for this model and just that little bit more industrious than the 1.6 and 1.4 engines in its predecessors. So rest assured you're getting a faster car, as well as a blacker one.
The Puma was born during the extraordinary and unlikely burst of creative energy at Ford that also brought us the Ka and the Focus. In one of the car industry's most startling turnarounds, a company formerly famous for producing what were, essentially, coat hangers for travelling salespeople was suddenly issuing daringly stylish vehicles from somewhere near the leading edge of contemporary automobile design. If Brentwood, Ford's home in Essex, had turned into a French Riviera-style location with a climate to match, it would have been no more surprising.
In this new family of cars, the Puma was always the spoilt child - full of itself and possibly going places. It had aspects of that rounded, jelly-mould look that virtually all modern car design goes for, but it had a few purposeful creases and sharper lines, too, and it tapered off at the back into a nicely bevelled edge. It hunkered down very nicely at the kerb and looked ready to spring forward - exactly like a puma, or possibly a panther.
The fact that the Puma was developed using the base for the Fiesta, the world's most boring car, only made its achievement seem more joyous. Ford, the maker of practical and affordable vehicles generally exuding all the charisma of a middle-order English batsman, had finally ripped off its tie, unbuttoned its shirt to the navel and hit the dancefloor. What could be less sensible and improving than a sports coupe with joke back seats?
(Don't bother trying to get in the back, incidentally. It may look like there are two fully moulded car seats in there, but actually it's an optical illusion, a very canny piece of miniaturisation. You may wish to go further and decorate the seats with miniature people and miniature luggage, thus creating the car's own internal Legoland.)
The Ford Puma Black enriches and expands the already surreal experience of driving a Ford that is sprightly, aggressively geared and gasping for corners. You ease yourself into the leather seat and sink your feet into the plush black carpeting, which has been thoughtfully embroidered with the car's name, presumably in case you should ever take the carpets out and forget where they came from. Then you close your hand around the thrillingly cold aluminium gearknob and roar away into the sunset, or up to the next red traffic light, depending on where you are.
Actually, "roar" may not be quite the word. The Puma doesn't really reward acceleration with anything throaty-sounding from under the bonnet. That may be too much to ask from a production-line Ford. But it whips about the place in ways a Fiesta could only gape at.
For me, the new edition was, if anything, too black. There is only so much black and brushed steel that one can take in a car's interior. I felt I was driving around in the apartment of a bachelor advertising executive from the mid-1980s. But you can still get a regular one and, obviously, it is part of the purpose of this issue to remind us of that. The Puma is still out there and still hungry.
