Review: 2023 Toyota GR Corolla Core Doesn’t Break a Sweat

An earworm of a song called Water by Tyla has been playing endlessly on the radio. I haven’t looked up the exact lyrics, but the refrain goes something like this:

Make me sweat, make me holla’
Make me lose my breath, make me water

It’s doubtful Tyla was thinking of her favorite sports car when she wrote Water, but that lustful, breathless passion is what I want from the best enthusiast cars. And, word has it, I might just find that extraordinary level of passion in Toyota’s new GR Corolla.

What is the GR Corolla?  It’s a 300-hp high-boost pocket rocket that claws at the road through all four tires.  It’s motorsports madness stuffed into Toyota’s smallest USDM hatchback.  (Overseas, the same rally-ready drivetrain gets shoehorned into the GR Yaris.) 

Now, I’m no stranger to the small engine, big boost, smart-AWD rally recipe.  In my twenties, I cut my sports car teeth on a 2006 Mitsubishi Lancer Evolution IX MR.  In my thirties, I returned to those roots with the 2016 Ford Focus RS.  Wee lad Mike did have Water levels of passion for his Evo IX MR, but then he fell for luxury sports sedans with screaming V8s.  Perhaps those M3s and CTS-Vs are why middle-aged Mike found it hard to keep the flame lit for his Focus RS.

So, how will forty-year-old Mike respond to the GR Corolla?  I’ve got the keys to a well-specced 2023, so let’s find out.

What is in a name?  If the name is GR Corolla Core, then “GR Corolla” means a Gazoo Racing massaged Corolla and “Core” means the hot hatch’s base trim.  

In 2023, the Core trim started at $37k MSRP, but it was pretty much obligatory to add the Performance package for $1180 to get front and rear Torsen LSDs.  My tester has that as well as the $770 Technology package (for in-car navigation, upgraded JBL audio and wireless phone charging) and the $500 Cold Weather package (for heated seats and a heated steering wheel).  Put it all together, and I’m sitting in a $40k Corolla, but one with the fender flares and mechanical mods to match the Monroney.

At first sniff from the driver’s seat, I can tell that this 5000-mile GR Corolla made someone sweat.  The cabin has the faint, but unmistakable, scent of body odor.  I check my own pits to confirm I’m not the culprit—I’m not—and assume the original owner had many exciting drives in this car.

Eager to get air flowing through the cabin, I power up the engine, open the windows, and pull out onto the industrial park roads.  The off-the-line torque is lacking—the tiny 1.6L three-cylinder is below its boost threshold—but the GR Corolla is easy to pedal away from the stop signs.

It takes a block or two before the stink dissipates.  In that same distance, I appreciate the seriousness/firmness of the GR-tuned suspension. The short wheelbase GR Corolla bucks over the frequent bumps and, frankly, beats me up.  Since the GR Corolla is one of the more extreme Toyotas, elevating wheel control over passenger comfort is on brand.  However, I am worried the car is too hardcore for forty-year-old me.  (I ditched my Focus RS in part because its stiff suspension caused premature potty breaks on road trips!)

Even a mediocre steering system can feel talkative on rough roads, but the GR Corolla’s helm is sadly devoid of road texture and bump feedback.  What a disappointment!  The EPAS tuning does avoid rubbery recentering forces, but the muted steering feedback does not tickle my fingertips…or excite my loins.

Not looking to linger in the city, I set course for the nearest hills.  California is solidly in its summer heat, and the distant rolling mountains are perfectly browned like toasted marshmallows.

A busy B-road takes me away from Santa Rosa.  Cruising along at 50 mph, the din of tire noise is overlaid with a low rpm chortle whenever I tip into the throttle.  I like the three-cylinder’s unique song; it has hints of Porsche flat-six at lower rpm and makes turbo chuffles if I lift off the throttle after hard acceleration.  I’m less enamored with the GR Corolla’s cacophonous cabin; it is a second reason why this hatchback may not be the best companion for drivers with graying temples.

Toggling through the engine’s eco, normal and sport modes, I notice the digital tachometer changing shape.  It is a traditional clock face in eco and normal but transforms into a linear rev counter in sport.  Well, linear is not the right description, as the tachometer scrunches 0 to 4k rpm tightly on the left and spreads 4k to 7k rpm broadly across the middle of the screen.  In any other car it would be puzzling to hide the most used rpm, but the GR Corolla is built for high-rpm hooning, and the tachometer is a hat tip to that mission.  Additionally, there are many pages of digital gauges for monitoring the car’s mechanical health.

A rotary knob near the shifter controls the AWD settings.  By default, the GR Corolla uses a 60:40 front-to-rear torque split, but twisting to the knob right sets a rear-biased 30:70 torque split, and pressing down on the knob engages track mode for a perfect 50:50 distribution.  I’m curious to see if the GR Corolla can unlock RWD dynamics with its 30:70 mode, so I pick that setting as I turn up into the hills.

Finally clear of traffic, I try a full-throttle blast to see what the little punter can do.  Sadly, the first- and second-gear acceleration is steady but unimpressive.  (My home garage is full of forced-induction V8s and EVs, so my butt dyno hardly registers the GR Corolla’s 273 lb-ft.)  I keep the GR Corolla boiling through third and fourth gears and find it sustains its thrust in higher gears.  The GR Corolla steadily piles on speed like a 747 barreling towards lift-off; it’s slow to accelerate but ultimately takes flight.

The run through the ratios reveals that the 1.6L turbocharged engine works best at high rpm.  The three-cylinder motor is sleepy below 3k or 4k rpm, then finds its stride with peak torque from 5k and 6.5k rpm.  There is a slight wane in power in its final gasp to the 7k rpm redline.  The top-heavy turbo tuning makes sense for motorsports, where high rpm is constantly used and low rpm punch matters little.  But it also means that you’ll never achieve its 4.9s 0-60 mph time without roasting the clutch.

As the first hill-climbing twists approach, so does the need for a heel-toe downshift.  It doesn’t go well.  Even though I wear size 12 shoes, I can’t confidently cover the brake pedal and reach the gas pedal; in my first attempted blip, I slip off the throttle.  Is the wide spacing a legacy of Toyota’s unintended acceleration lawsuits?   It could be, and I immediately turn on the IMT automatic rev-matching so that I can enjoy the climb without borking the gear changes.

(My usual heel-toe technique is to put the right side of my foot firmly on the brake and use the left edge of my foot to press the gas.  Truly using my toes on the brake and heel on the gas might work better here!) 

The road I’ve picked climbs through amber pastures and into dark redwood forests. It is beautiful but also tight, bumpy and frequently blind.  Wary of oncoming traffic, I drive at a six-tenths pace, taking turns in second gear and sprinting into third on the short straightaways.  

Since second gear tops out at 59 mph and third at 86 mph, the GR Corolla offers many opportunities to row its precise, positive and mildly notchy six-speed manual.  (You can’t get an automatic transmission with this car.)  I enjoy the work and muse about how third gear in the GR Corolla is just slightly longer than second gear in a Camaro or Cayman.  Manual transmissions are toys these days, and Toyota is making more opportunities for play by tightly stacking the gears.

Over the patched rural pavement, I’m jostled vigorously by the tight sports suspension.  While my flabby bits are flapping every which way, the GR Corolla stays as stuck to the road as a Hillary For President bumper sticker is to a Prius.  The well-padded sports seat softens the blows to my body, and its grippy cloth and ample torso bolstering support me through the corners.  (The more expensive Circuit Edition has microsuede and pleather seats with jazzy red stitching.)

The GR Corolla steers true around the corners and over the bumps, with point-and-shoot accuracy and an unflappable chassis.  Thanks to its tidy footprint, I feel comfortable squeezing past the oncoming farm trucks.  The steering ratio is well-measured: alert without being twitchy.  The car goes where I point it, without drama or muss.

And that is a plus and a minus.  

I’ve been driving with the 30:70 torque split, yet I haven’t felt the slightest squiggle from the car’s rear axle.  Where are the steer-by-throttle talents that made the torque-vectoring Focus RS a riot?  I’ve found no such joy in the GR Corolla.

If anything, the Toyota is more like my old Evo IX:  With dual LSDs and no torque vectoring, the GR Corolla is trustworthy but boring.  There’s never the thrill of power oversteer nor the fright of torque steer.  Yes, the story would be different in snow or rain, but today I have blazing California sun, and the 235/40ZR18 Michelin Pilot Sport 4 tires have way more grip than the 1.6L engine has grunt.

My paint-shaker ride ends when I turn onto smooth and sinuous Bennett Valley Road.  Its fresh paving and diving corners let me build a flow in the GR Corolla.  We flit between third and fourth gears, sniffing out apexes and dusting them with high-resolution precision.  The brakes are firm and capable, the body control is excellent, and the front and rear axles respond harmoniously to my inputs.  The GR Corolla would be a pure pleasure on a tight racetrack, where its tidy footwork would let me confidently explore ten-tenths cornering and also let me suss out the differences between the AWD modes.

Soon, I’m in the town of Sonoma.  I stop at a colorful Mexican restaurant to refill my belly while the GR Corolla cools off in the parking lot.  Over a dish of delicious enchiladas, I consider my enthusiasm for the GR Corolla, which, frankly, is muted.

While the GR Corolla is clearly a precision instrument tuned for motorsports enthusiasts like myself, I’m not feeling the lust.  Its power is unremarkable in today’s torque-soaked market, its road feel is distant, and its chassis is too firm and locked down to be playful (or comfortable!) on a sunny backroad.  I’d rather have the Focus RS’s punch and torque vectoring or the WRX STI’s sound and hydraulic steering, but neither of those cars is sold anymore.  In fact, the GR Corolla is in a class of one.  (The Civic Type R is a good alternative, but FWD-only.  The Golf R is substantially pricier.)

With my plate mopped clean, I pay the bill and inspect the GR Corolla’s practicality.  The back bench is tight—it’s a squeeze to fit my 6’ 2” frame behind the driver’s seat and under the ceiling.  Young kids should find adequate room in the back seats, so long as they have compact forward-facing child seats or typical boost seats; they will, however, kick the smithereens out of the driver’s seat back.  (The Evo IX and WRX STI  had much better rear space for adults.)  

The trunk is another curiosity. Toyota mounted the battery there for weight distribution and then leveled the floor with a thick cargo tray. As a result, five inches of height have been stolen from the rear, and it’s hard to fit more than one large suitcase and one typical roll-aboard bag. If you had more to carry, you’d be forced to fold the rear seats flat.

Of all places, the engine bay appears the most commodious.  As a benefit of swapping the Corolla’s milquetoast four-banger with the GR’s hot three-cylinder, there are fistfuls of room around the engine and airbox.  Your mechanic will be appreciative.

As I drive back to Santa Rosa, I explore some of the GR Corolla’s tech features.  The Alexa-based voice control perfectly understands my navigation wishes and the native navigation app works well.  (Though I’d probably use Android Auto and Waze because of its speed trap warnings.)  The JBL stereo is fine, but not great.  I am amazed at the many active safety features that Toyota packed into the car: blind spot warnings, rear cross-traffic alerts, emergency braking assistance, lane-keeping assistance, and much more.  

But when I turn on adaptive cruise control and lane-keeping assistance, the GR Corolla does a poor job of following the road’s twists.  Perhaps it is tuned for gently sweeping highways? Or maybe I’m using it wrong.

Just short of Santa Rosa,  I make one more attempt to suss out the differences between the AWD modes.  On a quiet side road, I attack a 90-degree turn over and over, changing back and forth between the modes.  Eventually, the smallest of differences shake out:  With the default 60:40 torque split, there is the tendency for understeer when I stomp on the gas post-apex.  This understeer is eliminated by the 50:50 Track mode.  The 30:70 split is as neutral Track mode on corner exit, but it makes the car’s nose feel keener and gives the sensation of being pushed from behind.  But no matter what the marketing suggests, the GR Corolla is no easy-pill drift missile.  At least not on dry streets.  (Now, where can I find a closed track?)

I appreciate Toyota’s vision for the GR Corolla and the focused engineering that went into this pumped-up five-door.  Given snowy winters or a mile-long dirt driveway, the GR Corolla could be a hoot.  But I live in sunny California, and I’ve been spoiled by more powerful, friskier, and much better-sounding sports cars.  When you’re a driving addict like me, you need the hard drugs, and the GR Corolla doesn’t have what it takes to make me sweat and holler.