2021 Toyota GR Supra A91 Edition Review: More Power, More Fun, More Blue

It’s been almost two years since the production Supra debuted, and yet it’s still a divisive thing.

Some folks—more often than not those that haven’t driven it, it should be noted—dismiss the GR Supra as simply a restyled BMW. True, it does share a lot with the Z4 under the skin, and Toyota is leaning into that this year with a second Bavarian engine option. The four-pot is less powerful, but it brings the cost of entry down, too.

More importantly, Toyota is bumping up power for the original inline-six model to widen the gap between it and the 2.0-liter. With nearly 50 more horsepower than before, the Supra has the firepower to better fight Porsche’s 718 Cayman, if not the performance bargain that is the C8 Corvette.

Once people start spending over $50,000 on a two-seat sports car though, it’s not unreasonable for them to want more than performance stats. They want something special. So for 2021, Toyota is introducing this, the A91 Edition, limited to just 1,000 cars. It packs in nearly everything you’d find in the rest of the six-cylinder cars that makes the Supra so fun, but adds some choice upgrades that should appeal to those who crave a more unique experience—or at least who plan on flipping it on Bring a Trailer in a decade.

The A91 Edition comes in two color choices: this stunning “Refraction,” or “Nocturnal”—blue and black. I’m sure there will be people who buy the Supra in the other option, but they’re making a mistake. This is one of the Very Good Blues, and if you’re worried about the extra attention it draws (which is a lot), then why are you buying a two-door sports car at all?

Refraction also puts the A91’s numerous black details in stark relief. The carbon fiber mirror caps look great, and cost more than the upgrade from regular Supra 3.0 to A91 on their own. (Look, you’re already saving money!) The wheels are also dipped in straight black. You won’t miss the twin hash-lines on the B-pillars, either. Sure, they look like they belong on the front half of an American car, but it certainly ups the visual impact of an already attention-grabbing car.

There’s also supposed to be a carbon fiber lip spoiler atop the Supra’s shapely tail: it was strangely absent on this tester. I maintain the Supra’s best angle is a low rear three-quarter because of that dramatic curve between the taillights, but judging from press shots, the more angular extension wouldn’t hurt. If anything, it balances the shape in profile.

Changes inside the A91 are subtler, but still very blue. It comes down to the stitching, mirroring the exterior hue along the dashboard, the steering wheel, and the seats. Buyers will get special key gloves and a trunk mat, too.

Space is as you’d expect: intimate. There’s not much storage room, either in the cabin or behind it, but it’s very comfortable once you’re installed. The leather-and-suede seats are well-bolstered, holding you in place without sacrificing long-distance comfort. It’s not the easiest shape to see out of, though.

As mentioned earlier, the 2021 GR Supra’s BMW-sourced 3.0-liter inline-six is stronger this year. Horsepower is up 47 to 382, and torque raises slightly by 3, to 368 lb-ft. The latter also peaks slightly later now, but runs from 1,800 to 5,000 rpm. It’s a small change, but it makes it easier to mete out all that twist with your right foot. The A91 doesn’t have any additional power over lesser Supras.

The six-pot sounds just as sweet as before, yet even with the higher official figures for 2021, it feels underrated. I’d be shocked if the Supra isn’t producing comfortably more than 400 hp. Revs build and fall quickly, the inline-six feeling deliciously free of internal friction. The eight-speed auto rarely puts a foot wrong, and has one of the most aggressive Sport modes I’ve witnessed on a self-shifter. It will drop into lower gears without hesitation, even if that means 4,000 rpm around the city. Not that bystanders seem to mind: the standard response to the Supra was a thumbs-up.

Fuel efficiency is ever so slightly worse this year. The EPA quotes a 25 mpg average, split between 22 and 30 for city and highway driving. Canadian figures are 9.4, 10.6, and 8.0 L/100 km, respectively. As it was what turned out to be the last weekend of good autumn weather, I took the Supra out of town to roads more suiting a two-seater. Needless to say, observed numbers were a little thirstier…

Toyota has added aluminum strut braces, front and rear bump stops, and revised the Supra’s damper tuning, all with the stated mission of improving its ride/handling balance. It’s impossible to tell without a back-to-back test, but the Supra is downright cosseting in Comfort mode on the highway schlep out of town.

Get to the good roads, select Sport mode, and the Supra adopts a harder edge. There’s an overwhelming sense of stiffness: not in the ride itself, which is firm yet still accommodating, but from the chassis. Nothing is going to upset the Supra, and it allows you to focus on what the thin-rimmed steering wheel is saying. It’s positive and direct, which is good, because the Supra’s nose can feel quite a long way’s away from inside. Grip from the 275-series rear tires is immense, though that short wheelbase and ample torque makes the rear-end feel more mobile than initially expected. It’s not wayward: it’s agile, but at a level that’s rare in modern front-engined machines. The Supra will deconstruct your favorite backroad with a quickness, but always includes you in the fun. Overstep the stability control’s bounds, and it gently reins you in.

I wish the brake pedal were firmer. The four-pot Brembos and large discs offer ample stopping power, but the pedal itself is too squishy for something this capable. And as before, you won’t be able to drop the windows to fully appreciate that inline-six song while you’re having fun: at anything past a slow gallop the wind buffeting is immense.

The Supra doesn’t just borrow from the Z4 under the skin either. If you’re familiar with any modern BMW, you’ll recognize a whole lot of its interior fittings, too.

Personally, I don’t see how that’s a bad thing. Toyota’s got some solid-looking interiors these days, but would you really want Camry switchgear in your 50-grand sports car? I didn’t think so. The BMW pieces are appropriate for the class: every common touch point feels good. I don’t know why Toyota saw fit to make it harder for the driver to reach ahead of the shifter, though. The steering wheel is also a mixed blessing: it’s not overly thick like modern BMW rims, but the center and the six-o’clock spoke are ugly and cheap-looking.

You also get a re-skinned, 8.8-inch iDrive screen inside the Supra instead of Toyota’s mediocre Entune system. Control is via the touchscreen or the center console rotary knob. It’s a straight-forward system that’s easy to navigate. Wireless Apple CarPlay is part of the package—sorry Android users—but strangely, the Canadian-spec A91 drops the wireless charging pad. So you’ll still need to bring a cable.

The Supra comes with a solid amount of safety kit right out the gate. This includes automated emergency braking, lane departure warning, lane-keep assist, and the required backup camera. An optional package tacks on adaptive cruise control, blind-spot monitoring with rear cross-traffic alert, and parking sensors. (It’s standard-fit on Canadian cars.) The lane-keep feature doesn’t play nice with the Supra’s quicker steering: too many times it feels like it’s fighting instead of aiding the driver.

The Supra is an easy car to like. It’s a little ball of energy when you want it to be, threading along a country road with poise, remarkable agility, and that classic straight-six wail. Dial it down and it does the commuter thing well too (the sound system is solid). The lineage is unimportant: what matters is that the Supra even exists, and Toyota looks determined to gradually refine it. That’s a huge win for enthusiasts.

It could still use a manual; not because that’s the only way to be a proper sports car or anything like that, but because it’d amp up the fun even more. That’s the major advantage the 718 Cayman still has, but opting for the Porsche would saddle you with an engine that can’t match the 3.0’s muscle nor charisma. Even if the six-cylinder starts at $51,985 ($69,460 CAD), the Supra feels good value.

As for the A91 Edition, the extra layer of visual interest is worth the minor additional outlay ($305 US, $1,200 CAD). Just make sure you get the blue.

Become an AutoGuide insider. Get the latest from the automotive world first by subscribing to our newsletter here.