Dodge Charger Police Vehicle Review

The cop spec Dodge Charger is a high-mileage mule for first responders who take that “first” bit seriously. As any pre-pubescent male will tell you, this “race to the scene of the crime and/or chase the bad guy in my bad-ass American sedan” bit sits right at the top of the list of “why I want to be a cop when I grow up.” In fact, it’s so deeply grained in the male psyche that starting up the cop spec Dodge Charger forced me to fight an overwhelming urge to crank, stomp and spin the beast. I swear I didn’t.

The styling of the cop spec Dodge Charger has nothing to do with the facts, ma’am. You either like full size Hot Wheels cars or you don’t. The two-tone high contrast color scheme gave “my” cruiser the requisite mien of mean. Seen in the rear-view-mirror of your WRX, the cop Charger looks like it is going catch you– even if it isn’t.

The inside is ipso facto cop spec. Up front: thick climate controls and the kind of dome light you’d find in a walk-in closet. A steel, grooved mounting rack sits between the front seats where an arm rest used to be, ready for a laptop and radio retrofit. As the rack nixes the floor-mounted shifter, officers must change gears with a column shifter that I’m pretty sure was made out of a crank left over from 1914. It snapped out of park just before I added my second hand; part of an inadvertent on-board workout program.

The cop spec Charger’s back seat is very close to cruel and unusual punishment. Butt-shaped wells made of nightstick-hard plastic replace the back seat. The sloping rear roof, which makes the design on the outside, makes riding underneath an inherently humbling experience; even a Pesci-sized felon has to bow his head in forgiveness to sit back there.

The backseat is blocked off by a chubby plate of bullet-resistant Plexiglas. Cops call it a cage and the frame intrudes on an already seriously opaque C pillar. If justice is blind, it’s probably because she’s trying to see if there’s anyone behind the right rear quarter panel.

While the cop Charger might not have the handling chops of Subaru’s finest, the odds of [at least] dodging a kid chasing a ball in this car are greater than in any other Chrysler product I’ve ever driven. Controlled by a fat-ass (donut shop inspired?) steering wheel, the “police performance tuned” helm’s response is steady, linear and lithe. At pursuit speeds, it firms up like a Hollywood actress after her first baby. Cruising, it’s lighter than an Iron Chef soufflé.

The engine behaves exactly as you’d expect, given 335 horses and 375 pound-feet of torque pulling 3,700 pounds of serve and protectitude (plus some mighty heavy law enforcement equipment). In practice, drop the hammer and you get the distinct feeling the felon-chasing-compatible Charger is pushing you back in your seat, saying “let me handle this.”

The engine comes complete with Chrysler’s MDS (Multi-Displacement System), so it’s not firing on all eight pots all the time. (On purpose.) On paper, this seems ideal for police use, where bean counters and crime fighters are often at loggerheads. Slowly chugging through the neighborhood, the Charger’s a four-banger getting 25 mpg. Cutting to the chase, it’s got a V8 with who the Hell cares about mpg when you’re on a 10-108.

Eighteen inch 60’s put all these bit and pieces to excellent use. While not track ready, the rubber is as safe and predictable as an episode of Everybody Loves Raymond. We tested on a rainy day, highlighting the utility of the all-season shoes. Fifteen-inch brakes kept the car in check. They performed well in the wet, though the anchors never had the chance to get hot.

The cop spec Charger’s heavy enhanced suspension is also a revelation. Entering my first turn, I braced to fight the forces of G and traditional muscle car stubbornness, only to find flat compliance. The thing did exactly what I asked. Sure, I’d set expectations lower than a ’70 Impala with an air-brushed Last Supper on the side. Regardless; the cop Charger gets hands off for good behavior.

In the opening voice-over of “It Takes a Thief” cat burglar Alexander Mundy said, “I've heard of stealing from the government, but for the government…” That about sums up this car: it’s a radically tuned, getaway car for the good guys.

The cop Charger doesn’t have SRT8 performance. Nor do buyers get much in the way of creature comforts. But for $24k, it's a steal. If the reliability’s good, a used cop Charger could be just the ticket for a law-abiding hoon— if there were such a thing.