The first time I got into the new Camaro, the 2010 model year that would herald the return of the storied muscle car, I knew we weren't going to get along. Call it a personality clash, like the friend of a friend who everyone else thinks is really cool—but whom you can barely stand.

The Camaro's manual transmission and the V8 power should have signaled the beginnings of a wonderful bromance. Instead, the low roof felt like it was crashing down upon my head. The sightlines were lousy and the massive blind spots in the rear made changing lanes dicey.

Form ran rampant over function. The Camaro looked cool, but at great expense to the occupants. Frankly, it irked me.

Still, I had hopes for its performance, and I took the brand-new Chevy to a favorite path of tangled asphalt, my own private hill climb. I soon liked it even less. The car was big and heavy. It was impossible to see the edges of the fenders or gauge what the front tires were doing. The front was Novocain numb, the feedback from the road as fuzzy as an AM radio station in the middle of Texas. The suspension had apparently been set up by GM legal, as it defaulted to a persistent, maddening understeer.

I was sure the car would be a dismal sales failure. Consumers would head for the Mustang in droves. I couldn't have been more wrong. Sales rocketed and fans swooned. Which left me as an outlier among friends and colleagues as the Man Who Hates the Camaro.

So, with the all-new generation being released, I had to wonder: Could I learn to love the Camaro? Because the changes sounded pretty good. A new, lighter platform and a body that was lower, shorter and narrower.

But still, that roof . . .

As winter waned I had an SS model delivered to my garage. I walked around it and found my head nodding. It was the same but different. The changes weren't clear in the way, say, a 996 911 looked different from the 997. But it was more approachable, more agreeable. More better.

In truth, my serious dislike of the Camaro had weakened to something like a significant aversion, a change attributable to the ZL1 and Z/28 models. I semi liked the ZL1. It had gobs of power and was a far livelier, more nuanced drive over the SS. Still, I kept comparing it to a sister model, the C6 Corvette ZR1. I love that car. I'd driven it at the so-called Lutz Ring at GM's Milford Proving Grounds, and it was everything I wanted in an American sports car. Sharp, fast, and tuned.

Chevrolet

The Z/28 simply had to be respected. It was bonkers, the ultimate expression of a fundamentally flawed car. Chevy engineers had gone all out, giving it rubber so slick that the car would spin like a dreidel if you hadn't warmed up the tires sufficiently. But once you had, you could push it harder and harder and it kept on giving. It dared you to be great with it. It was delightful in its lunacy. But of course, you still couldn't see the damn fenders and it was hard to tell how close you were to clipping a curb and there was, still, that roof.

The 2016 Camaro rides on the GM Alpha platform, just like the excellent Cadillac ATS. And the SS shares the 6.2-liter V8 with the superlative C7 Corvette, along with smart details like rev-matching on the manual that can be turned on/off using shifter paddles and the flat-bottom steering wheel. (Yes, I really like the Corvette, but no, I was not a 'Vette guy until the C6 made me so. Older 'Vettes are too gaudy and full of plastic, but the evolution in quality and drivability is undeniable and a real achievement.)

My test car was the 2SS model with $3800 of options, so it was the best of everything and not inexpensive at $46,095. But the interior was a huge step forward. Slick, in a good way, with a modern layout that makes it a far more pleasing place to be. The kitschy, useless engine gauges in front of the shifter are gone, and the stitching and some materials look moderately expensive.

The interior was a huge step forward. Slick, in a good way.

Chevrolet

The roof and high beltline and blind spots are still a problem, but they've been massaged. Maybe it's my imagination, but I felt like I could see out the front better than before, and the overall effect is less like that of a cell in a Federal Supermax prison.

Driving a car is a subjective experience. I knew the Camaro had lost a good 300 pounds and that the suspension had been reworked. But from the moment I pulled out of the garage, it just felt better. More natural and confident; happier at speed and certainly far more elegant around corners.

Most of my time in the SS was on wet roads in low temperatures, which forced me to use the 455 hp and 455 lb-ft of torque judiciously. I tiptoed up to the limits of adhesion on slick corners—and just the fact that I could suss those limits was a major stride forward. And the optional Magnetic Ride Control was, as ever, a welcome addition.

And when I wanted to get silly, the car was ready for it, all gruff V8 basso rumble and spinning rear wheels. It might be more sprightly, but it's still a muscle car, and that's a good thing. I'd like to spend more time with it in the summer months. And that's a stride forward, too.

Then, last week at the New York International Auto Show, Chevy showed us both the ZL1 coupe and convertible. And as I walked around it, with its massive lower maw, I felt the first real stirrings. Not of aversion or even grudging acceptance. But of want.

The new generation is no longer a fundamentally flawed machine. Which means the ZL1 and the sure-to-arrive Z/28 could be very special indeed.

I'm not sure if it will ever be love, but I'm open to an all-new friendship.

Jason Harper, a contributing editor to Road & Track, has tested and written on cars for two decades. His scariest drive was a rally race in an original Lancia 037, his first drive of a supercar was the Porsche Carrera GT, and the only time he's gotten a speeding ticket was in a base Mini Cooper. His column, Harper's Bizarre, runs every Wednesday.

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