Famous car makes that no longer exist

Defunct brands that didn’t stand the test of time

How hard is it to run a car brand? You just sketch out a shell, build an engine and ship it to the masses, right?

Apparently not: from quality-control woes to misguided buyouts, it seems the world of making and selling cars is not so simple – even for the big guns.

Each of these 25 marques was once well-known for its automobiles, and every single one of them ended up bankrupt, defunct or consigned to the past.

Read on for a cautionary tale of collapsed manufacturers and marques that didn’t last.

Oldsmobile

Founded by one Ransom E. Olds – can you see where the name came from? – at the end of the 19th century, American marque Oldsmobile was the first manufacturer to turn out petrol cars in high volumes.

Bought in 1908 by the newly founded General Motors, the company enjoyed many years of strong sales to the middle classes of the USA, with hit models including the 442 (pictured) and Toronado.

Alas, it wasn’t to last. By 2004, despite producing several successful models in the ’90s, Oldsmobile wasn’t turning a profit and the 106-year-old make – America’s oldest – was shut down.

Saab

Like several other car makes – notably Bristol Cars – Swedish brand Saab was created in 1945 to keep an aeroplane company’s factories going after the end of WW2.

It always played to a tight niche, building quirky cars that were better than your average hatchback but couldn’t really be called executive saloons, and rode the reputation for safe Swedish cars – chiefly with the best-selling 900, but always with the likes of the 99 (pictured).

Come 1989, a familiar story started playing out: the company was bought by GM. New models kept things ticking over in the ’90s but, by the next decade, badge-engineered and soulless efforts roundly failed to capture attention.

After a tortuous administration process, GM sold Saab to Spyker in 2010 – only for the latter to go bankrupt a year later. Saab’s assets were sold to a Chinese company but, in 2016, it was announced the name was dead.

Plymouth

Launched as a budget offering by Chrysler in the late-’20s, the Plymouth marque went through many phases in its 73 years of existence – from low-end automobiles that weathered the Great Depression, to stylish ’50s saloons such as the Belvedere (pictured) to big-block muscle machines in the late ’60s and early ’70s.

And, despite repeated issues with build quality and rust across the decades, Plymouth continued to stand as one of the biggest-selling American car makes.

Until the ’90s, that was, when in-house badge-engineering by Chrysler took a drastic toll on the once distinctive marque. Sales plummeted and, in 2001, the plug was pulled.

Rover

Founded in 1878, by the ’50s and ’60s Rover had gained a reputation for quality and capability – from the upmarket P3 (pictured), P4, P5 and P6 to the wildly successful Land Rover, which the British marque built from 1948.

Alas, as with Austin, Morris and so many others, in 1967 Rover became part of the Leyland Motor Corporation (later British Leyland) and so similarly suffered as a result of the mismanagement, industrial action and general chaos of the British motor industry in the ’70s.

Remarkably, though, while its best assets were parcelled off into a separate Land Rover marque, Rover itself stayed alive as a distinct brand and continued to be used by British Leyland on several models, eventually lending its name to the entire Rover Group.

Until it was split up by BMW, that was – the Rover name becoming defunct when the new MG (who used it under licence) went bankrupt in 2005.

De Tomaso

Founded by an Argentinian, powered by American engines and designed and built in Italy, De Tomaso road cars were nothing if not international.

They also happened to look the business, with the likes of the Mangusta and Pantera (pictured) challenging the supercar elite with their stunning shells – not to mention the Ford V8 performance at their disposal.

In fact, so promising was the De Tomaso effort that Ford bought its shares in 1973 – only to pull out of the Pantera project as the oil crisis hit months later.

Original founder Alejandro de Tomaso retained the rights to produce cars outside of Ford territories and continued to do so for decades – albeit in low numbers and by hand – until several failed development efforts sent the company into liquidation in 2004.

Pontiac

American make Pontiac was no flash in the pan: founded in Michigan in 1926, the brand was responsible for some truly iconic motors over its lifetime – chiefly the Firebird and GTO.

Sales were strong and, though the Firebird largely carried the marque – in no small part thanks to appearances in Smokey and the Bandit and Knight Rider – several new models sold well, including the Fiero.

Alas, despite fielding a host of poster-worthy machines over its 92 years in business, Pontiac wouldn’t survive the first decade of the new millennium: blighted by a series of mundane minivans made in its name and with owner GM in dire financial straights, the marque was culled in October 2010.

DeLorean

Arguably the most (in)famous one-car make of all time, DeLorean was alive for just seven years – but in that time produced one of history’s most iconic cars: the DMC-12.

Founded by former GM exec John DeLorean in 1975, a grant from the British government saw him set up in Northern Ireland, but times were turbulent from the off: engineering delays and budget issues abounded, leading to frequent quality control problems.

Still, some 8500 examples of the futuristic DMC-12 – complete with gullwing doors and striking stainless steel shell – made it out of the factory, including the most famous one of all, the DMC-12 that featured as the time machine in the film series Back to the Future.

It’s only a shame that it couldn’t go back in time and save DeLorean: by 1982, the money had run out and, despite some desperate attempts to keep it afloat, John DeLorean’s marque went bust.

Reliant

At its peak, car manufacturer Reliant was the biggest British-owned marque in the UK. Not bad for a firm founded in a shed by two blokes building a three-wheeler.

In fact, it was lightweight three-wheeled machines that made the make famous, with the glassfibre Robin proving an enduring hit – not least because it could be driven without a full car licence.

Reliant in fact made a host of machines over its near-70-year history, from four-wheeled efforts such as the Rebel and Scimitar (pictured), to three-wheeled utility vehicles such as the TW9 – though it was always the Robin for which it was remembered.

Manufacture of Reliant machines continued all the way up until 2001 when, with debts mounting, the factory stopped work – though not before a final Robin 65 was built to celebrate, you guessed it, 65 years of production.

Austin

Ah, Austin: that most-merged marque of mid-century motoring: founded in 1905 by Herbert Austin after he walked away from Wolseley, it enjoyed great success between the two World Wars, with the affordable Seven and Ten (pictured) selling seriously well for the marque.

From 1952, though, things got pretty complicated: brought under the British Motor Corporation umbrella with rival Morris, it also did a deal with Healey to build a new range of sports cars.

After some confused branding of the BMC Mini, by 1970 the marque was part of the British Leyland Motor Corporation (BLMC), which became British Leyland in 1975 and plain BL in 1978.

All of this led to the awful Allegro, plenty of mediocre badge-engineered efforts and – despite decent sales of the Metro, Maestro and Montego in the ’80s – it was killed off in 1987 when Rover took over.

Morris

Morris was a titan of British car manufacturing: headed by the legendary William Morris – a man who believed in cutting prices without sacrificing quality – it accounted for more than half of all production between the two World Wars.

Its parent company held a remarkable stable of makes – including MG, Wolseley and Riley – but Morris retained its own identity, with the Minor, launched in 1948, becoming the marque’s most famous model (1000 Traveller pictured).

Come 1952, all of those makes were brought under the BMC banner, together with rival Austin, which led both to badge-engineering and the iconic, game-changing Mini – sold under both the Morris and Austin name.

In the end, with Austin men in charge at BMC – which became British Leyland in 1975 – the Morris name was not long for the world and in 1984 it was used for the last time on a van iteration of the Austin Metro, of all things.

Jensen

Here’s a nice change: a British car maker that wasn’t bought out by British Leyland. It did, though, go under.

Jensen began as a coachbuilder, with brothers Alan and Richard Jensen creating sports car shells for WJ Smith & Sons, before the siblings bought out the company in 1934.

It wasn’t until after WW2 that Jensen began building its own cars, but – as it turned out – the marque was really quite good at it: 1950’s Austin-based Interceptor proved a hit, as did the revolutionary glassfibre 541, and the V8-powered 541S in ’62.

Several iconic motors followed, including the second Interceptor, the FF (both pictured) and – with the company on the cusp of collapse – the GT.

Sadly, new late-’60s safety regulations in the US hit Jensen hard and, despite a buyout that created Jensen-Healey in 1972, it all went south for good in 1976, with efforts at a revival in the new millennium coming to nought.

Packard

Packard started out making exquisite, luxury cars for the wealthy American few and produced some truly stunning models in the ’20s and ’30s – from the Deluxe Eight to the Twelve to the pictured Dietrich Sport Sedan.

When the Great Depression hit, the marque opted to build a more affordable model, the 120. While it helped Packard weather the storm, though, it also dented its reputation for opulence.

Even so, WW2 defence contracts saw the company’s coffers looking very healthy – yet still it died: a post-war focus on volume over luxury proved unwise, as Packard simply couldn’t compete with the Ford/GM price war.

With quality control suffering, a Studebaker buyout buoyed the brand – but only until 1958, when it folded together with Edsel, Hudson, Nash, DeSoto, and Kaiser.

Hillman

The marque that sort-of-wasn’t, Hillman started out making bicycles, before producing a host of big automobiles after 1907.

Come 1928, the legendary Rootes brothers – who would eventually own Hillman, Singer, Sunbeam, Talbot, Commer and Karrier – took control of the marque, merging it with Humber.

As with many of their acquisitions, the result was a savvy range – including the Wizard, Hawk and Minx – that catered to both export and domestic markets, while sharing much with the other brands in the Rootes stable.

Following WW2, Hillman intelligently went economical with the Husky, Imp and Hunter, before serious management issues at Rootes led to a Chrysler buyout in 1970 – the Avenger Tiger (pictured) was the last car developed before the takeover. The new setup lasted just nine years, until it was bought and subsequently shelved by Peugeot.

Wolseley

Founded by Herbert Austin of, you guessed it, the Austin Motor Company, Wolseley started out at the top end of the market, building big, luxury cars at the start of the 20th century.

It then grew rapidly, ultimately becoming Britain’s biggest car manufacturer. It soon became clear that the expansion was a little too rapid, though: it went into receivership in 1927 and was bought by – who else? – William Morris.

Perhaps its most famous cars were the first ones it built after WW2 – the likes of the 4/50, 6/80 and 6/110 (pictured) – in no small part thanks to their ubiquitous role as police cars in the UK.

Alas, the story soon became a very familiar one: as part of the Morris stable, Wolseley became part of BMC, then British Leyland where, after a few years of use on variants of Austin machines, the name was retired.

Triumph

By this point, you’re probably wondering why no-one stopped British Leyland before every famous car brand in the country was killed off. Well, here’s another example of the BL curse striking.

Triumph was a stalwart British marque with a varied catalogue of triumphs (TR3A, TR5, TR6, pictured), tribulations (Stag) and terrible cars (TR7) – making it something of a symbol for the country’s motor industry in the 20th century.

Headquartered in Coventry, the marque went into receivership just as WW2 began; it was resurrected post-War by the Standard Motor Company, which wanted to compete with Jaguar – and so Triumph entered the sports car market, where it would enjoy a fair bit of success.

What killed it? Bought by Leyland Motors in 1960, many promising Triumph models left the factory gates – including the Dolomite Sprint – but a combination of build-quality concerns and bodged badge-engineering did for the marque by the late ’70s as Rover took over.

Glas

German manufacturer Glas was founded way back in 1883, but it spent a good deal of its life producing farming equipment, only making its first car after WW2.

Remembered most for its diminutive Goggomobil machines, it also made an effort at building bigger coupés, including the Frua-bodied 1300GT and T600/T700 (pictured).

Competition was fierce, though, and even the V8-equipped 2600GT wasn’t special enough to challenge the then-dominant British motor industry: the marque was sold to BMW in 1966.

Kept in production – albeit with BMW engines – until the end of the decade, when Beemer launched its own coupé it spelt the end for Glas.

Marcos

Welsh manufacturer Marcos made its name building sports cars for competition use, with the striking, glassfibre 1800GT capturing attention at the 1964 Racing Car Show and used widely for track events.

Several other models were launched, including the angular Mantis XP prototype in 1968, but the company hit financial difficulties at the turn of the 1970s and went under in ’72.

It wasn’t dead, though: co-founder Jem Marsh bought back the rights in 1976 and relaunched Marcos in 1981. It spent a decade building kit cars, before going back into pure factory production in 1992, starting with the Mantara – until it collapsed again in 2000. 

But it still wasn’t dead! Production restarted with new backing in 2002, with many engineers from recently bankrupt TVR joining the firm and with several new models including the TSO (pictured) – only for it to go under one last time in 2007.

Talbot

Founded in 1903, Talbot spent as much of its 91-year lifespan being bought out as it did building cars.

Not familiar with the name? It began assembling French cars in London, but would go on to do, well, just about everything: it appeared in Formula 1 twice, went rallying in the ’80s, served up a truly hot hatch in the Talbot Sunbeam Lotus, then topped it all off by being bought out and parked by Peugeot.

Before all of that, though, it was merged and purchased many, many times: first by Darracq in 1919, who combined it with Sunbeam; then by a group of buyers who carved it back out of the insolvent group in 1934.

Simca was next, buying the name in ’58 when Talbot shut down, before Simca itself was bought by Chrysler in 1970, before Chrysler was bought by Peugeot in 1978. Simple, right?

OSCA

Italian marque OSCA has a fascinating tale: it was founded in 1947 by Ernesto, Ettore and Bindo Maserati.

Yes, the Maserati brothers of the Maserati marque, the very same who’d founded the famous name in Bologna in 1914 and taken it to racing fame over the next few decades.

The OSCA story begins in 1937, when Adolfo Orsi bought out Maserati – not for its motorsport heritage but for its spark plug business. He relocated it to Modena, put himself and his brother-in-law in charge and generally sought to oust the Maserati family.

When their contract expired in ’47, they promptly left and founded their own rival marque – OSCA – building sports cars for the track and a few more luxurious models. It would survive for 20 years, before a buyout by MV Agusta spelt the end.

Iso

Born out of a company that built fridges before WW2, Italian make Iso began building motorcycles in 1948 – and the odd motorised sled, here and there.

Come the ’50s, the company branched out again, producing the diminutive Isetta Bubble Car which, in BMW guise, would sell in the hundreds of thousands.

Then came the ’60s and with it Iso’s foray into performance machines – starting with the Rivolta IR300 coupé (a combined effort by Bizzarrini, Giugiaro and Bertone), taking in the four-door Fidia (pictured) and peaking with the mighty Grifo, a stunning GT with V8 power.

Alas, into the ’70s and things went south for Iso: after a factory move in 1972, the marque lasted just two years before going bankrupt in ’74.

Ascari

Ascari – named after the Italian racing legend – was founded in 1995 in the grand tradition of low-volume, niche British car makers.

Its first model, the FGT, was a race car designed by Lee Noble, that doyen of hand-built motors, and sold on the road as the Ecosse (pictured) to the tune of 17 examples.

Several machines followed, all of them track cars with roadgoing variants and, as a result, very fast – owing to their lightweight construction and big engines.

Sadly, after 15 years in the business, financial woes forced the marque to fold, its plans to produce 50 examples of the 625bhp A10 never realised.

Horch

Founded by August Horch, the eponymous German marque became known for powerful, luxury cars wrapped in stunning bodywork and equipped with advanced engineering.

Well, it did in a different guise: August was ousted from the board of his own company in 1909 and, with his name already taken, he opted to use the latin translation. 

That translation? Audi – and, in 1932, it merged with the original Horch and DKW to form Auto Union, forerunner of the Audi of today and source of the fabled Silver Arrows racing team.

So, is the marque really defunct? Technically, yes – but spiritually far from it.

Autobianchi

Born as bicycle maker Bianchi, the Italian manufacturer branched out into luxury cars before its factory was destroyed during WW2.

Resuming production meant bringing bigger partners on board – and so, in 1955, Autobianchi was born: Fiat delivered the chassis, Pirelli provided the rubber and Bianchi handled the bodies and assembly.

The result was a raft of small city cars produced over a 40-year period, from the upmarket, Fiat-500 derived Bianchina of the ’50s, to the glassfibre Stellina and Primula supermini of the ’60s.

Come 1968, though, Bianchi’s failing fortunes saw it pull out of the partnership; Autobianchi became a pure Fiat subsidiary and, from 1970, the marque was used to build just one model, the bigger A112 (pictured). When production ceased in ’86, it spelt the end of the name – though it didn’t fully disappear until 1996.

Siata 208S

Siata started out making performance parts for Fiat machines but, as with so many marques, decided after WW2 to go into full production.

Still relying on certain Fiat components – most notably the engines – it turned out a host of mid-century sports cars, from the handsome Amca, to the punchy 208S (pictured) favoured by Steve McQueen to the distinctly oddball Siata Spring.

Numbers were always low, styling attractive (bar the Spring) and performance quite remarkable: the 208S could top 124mph, thanks to aluminium coachwork and a Fiat V8 under its hood.

It wasn’t enough to keep the money coming in, though, and Siata went bankrupt in 1970. Its assets were bought by ORSA and production of the Spring continued, albeit on Seat underpinnings.

AMC

Last up is a plucky American marque that tried to take on the big three – Ford, GM and Chrysler – and didn’t do all that badly.

OK, sure, in the end AMC couldn’t respond to the 1980s’ appetite for bigger cars and foundered as key management figures departed but, before it was bought by Renault, then Chrysler, it had shown several moments of brilliance.

Unable to compete with the budgets of the top trio, AMC instead sought sales – with some success – through buying in parts, developing its existing cars and (bar the ’80s) predicting trends, even in the face of bankruptcy.

The result? A legacy that includes compact cars (Gremlin, Pacer, pictured), muscle cars (AMX, Javelin) and four-wheel drive crossovers (Eagle) – and one that Chrysler very much benefited from.