(FORTUNE Small Business) – Back when I naively thought that hot cars would turn me into a babe magnet, I wanted a 240Z. A picture in a car magazine convinced me that Nissan--then called Datsun--had created a Jaguar XK-E for half the price. So in 1970, several months after the car was first introduced, I found a slightly used one for sale and coughed up $3,500, about four months' salary at the time. A week later I filled the luggage compartment with a tent, sleeping bag, and cookstove and set off for the West Coast.

It was the beginning of a long and happy relationship. Though the car didn't help my social life as much as I'd anticipated, it did keep me good company until the cumulative effects of harsh winters and road salt caused it to rust away. Then I grew older, and updated versions of the Z started showing their age too. Succeeding models became wider and heavier, with extra poundage bloating the once-elegant proportions. When production finally stopped a few years ago, the car looked more like an Olds Cutlass than a wannabe Jag.

But ever since the turnaround at Nissan began in 1999, executives have been promising a new Z, and it has finally arrived--preceded by far more buzz than the original. Conceived as the symbol of a revitalized company, the 350Z is based on an identical concept--a two-seater hatchback with a six-cylinder engine powering the rear wheels--but everything else has changed. And unfortunately, the new Z is a less-than-faithful reinvention of the original.

Let's start with the exterior: The old Z had the body of a marathoner, with a slender profile, long hood, and tailored rear-end. The new 350Z is built like Mike Tyson: musclebound and stubby. The old Z had a high greenhouse, allowing the driver to see in all directions. The roofline of the new Z is narrow and cramped, and the driver sits low in the body of the car, which interferes with visibility to the rear. The old Z's horizontal door handles have been replaced by vertical grips, a Nissan trademark that smacks of affectation.

Inside there's a little less to complain about. The new Z successfully reinterprets the straightforward instrument panel of the original. The surfaces are clean and luxurious, and the six-speed manual transmission is ergonomically and mechanically superb. Yet the storage area behind the front seats is compromised by a structural beam that effectively cuts it in half. Not much room for camping gear here.

Dynamically, the 350Z puts the old car to shame, though it's not really a fair comparison. The 350Z has a bigger and more robust engine, wider tires, and the benefit of 30 years of improvements in ride and handling. It does everything a sane person could ask for, scorching the pavement in first gear or loafing along in sixth. Better still, it extracts no penalty in driver comfort. I ran the Z to Vermont and back, a three-hour trip each way, without complaint.

As sports cars go these days, the Z is a pretty good value. Prices start at $26,269, though you can expect to pay plenty more while demand stays hot. The sticker on my high-performance Track model read $34,079. That's ten times the cost of the original but quite reasonable compared with European cars like the Audi TT, which goes for $40,000, or the $43,000 Porsche Boxster. Still, while the car is functionally capable and fast, it nonetheless lacks a certain charisma. Blame it on nostalgia, but to me this latest Z seems long on flash and short on the timeless appeal that made the original a car for the ages.