(MONEY Magazine) – Few people would dispute that the 1967 classic film The Graduate is almost unimaginable without Dustin Hoffman (in his first major role) as the freshly minted college graduate Benjamin Braddock, or Anne Bancroft as Mrs. Robinson, his middle-aged seductress. But less frequently acknowledged is another of the film's deft casting choices: the little red Alfa Romeo sports car that Benjamin gets as a graduation present and that ends up playing a crucial supporting role throughout the movie.

Maybe I find the car's Graduate performance especially notable because when I first saw the movie in the late 1980s, near the time of my own college graduation, I too owned an Alfa Romeo--a blue 1974 Spider in which I, like Benjamin, logged hundreds of miles trying to win back the hearts of girls (though with markedly less success). Whatever the reason, I've always felt that both movie and car have endured the test of time remarkably well. Now almost 35 years old, the movie still feels fresh and is still able to define for new generations the strange exhilaration, and dislocation, of being on the cusp of adulthood. Likewise, the car, then in its first year of production, continues to inspire admiring glances and a considerable amount of passion even though the design has barely changed in 30 years. Both, in short, are classics.

I've since spent years behind the wheel of other sports cars, including a 1986 Corvette and a 1992 Dodge Stealth, but when I set out to evaluate today's sports cars, I found myself thinking mostly about Alfa Romeos and The Graduate. It finally occurred to me that what many sports-car buyers really love about their cars is much the same as what movie buffs find in their favorite flicks: a cultural shelf life that extends far beyond their first run; a certain something that continues to thrill them for years, even decades; for lack of a better word, classic-ness.

I realize that many car enthusiasts (and most automotive journalists) take performance statistics and mechanical specs very seriously. But I'd argue that all the talk about displacement and fuel injection has little to do with what makes a car a classic. Speak to me about torque and you might as well be suggesting a career in plastics. And while I do love speed--and have the tickets to prove it--zero-to-60 stats mean little to me. Fast is fast.

So if specs and stats don't make a car a classic, what does? "It's more about aesthetics," says Richard Lentinello, the executive editor of Hemmings Motor News, a magazine for car collectors. Cars endure largely because of design, he argues. Think Jaguar E-Type. Mercedes Gull-Wing. James Bond's Aston Martins. Ken Okuyama, head of transportation design at Pasadena's renowned Art Center College of Design and a designer of Porsches, Corvettes and Ferraris, puts it in even more intangible terms. "We like to have this joy of living," he says. "Sports cars are a representation of that."

Passion. Beauty. Joy of living. It was in search of qualities like these that I took a close look at five of the best-selling mid-range sports cars--i.e. those selling for $30,000 to $60,000--of the last year, plus the hot new Lexus SC 430, which came out this year. Using my admittedly subjective criteria--plus the guidance of noted car designers and collectors--I attempted some handicapping: How likely is each to attain classic status decades down the road? Here's what I think, from shortest odds to longest.

Audi TT

When the Mazda Miata hit the market in 1989 and quickly became a hit, my overwhelming reaction was disappointment. How could a car so devoid of inspiration be so coveted by so many? (Besides, it couldn't be a real sports car: It was affordable and reliable.) Now, like others, I credit the Miata with renewing interest in the roadster (as convertible sports cars are called). But it wasn't until the Audi TT came along that the promise of the modern roadster was fulfilled.

On a personal level, the TT is the first car I'm comfortable calling a worthy successor to my Alfa (and a much needed one, since Fiat, which now owns the company, stopped selling Alfas in the U.S. in 1995; see page 173 for more Alfa history). The TT has a truly original yet widely appealing design. At $31,000 for the base coupe and $33,000 for the base roadster, it's affordable (if not as inexpensive as a Miata). And owners are passionate to the point of absurdity. (A familiar state for me: Alfa owners aren't called Alfisti for nothing.)

Several design gurus I talked to agree that this may prove to be one of the most profound automotive design statements of our time. Christopher Mount, editor-in-chief of the design magazine I.D. and the curator of several classic-car shows at New York City's Museum of Modern Art, argues that what makes sports cars unique is the extent to which form reflects function--and that the Audi TT achieves this like few others. The Bauhaus-inspired design draws attention to the wheels, the most essential element of any car, and relies on simplicity and symmetry for the rest. Every element, from the overall shape of the car to its interior detailing, echoes the simple, circular theme. Art Center's Okuyama agrees. "For longevity, you really need to be simple," he says. "This will last for a very long time as a design statement."

And (I hesitate to add this) there's one last argument--a pet theory, really--in favor of Audi's classic status. It appears that the Audi attracts both sexes in a way few sports cars do. As much as I love Corvettes, for example, during the years I drove one, it seemed to my dismay to elicit more lustful stares from men than from women. But the Audi gets equal-opportunity admiration: While Mount describes the car as "masculine" and even "macho," Audi fan message boards are full of owners claiming that it turns "more girls' heads than guys'" and the like. I'm not sure if "babe magnetism" has entered the curatorial lexicon of classic cars, but I'm pretty sure it can't hurt.

What are the odds? Almost a sure bet.

Chevrolet Corvette

As with a mutual fund, a car's past performance doesn't guarantee future results. But today's Corvette comes close. Since its debut in 1951, the original Corvette design has spawned classic after classic. Think of the '50s convertible with the proto-Nike swoosh carved into the door panels. Or the '60s Stingray, as in demand today as it was decades ago. Even the once-ridiculed '70s models are now attracting collectors, according to Lentinello of Hemmings Motor News. In short, the Corvette deserves to be called the quintessential American sports car.

As for the future desirability of today's Corvette, Lentinello is very optimistic, especially with regard to the souped-up Z06 hardtop, relatively few of which will be produced and which offers performance on a par with cars that cost far more than the $48,000 you'd pay for one. (The powerful but basic convertible goes for $46,805.) It still evokes the classic Corvette look--"long, lean and low," in the words of one owner I spoke with. And unlike many sports cars that emerge as watered-down versions of a concept car, this design still has a futuristic feel several years after being introduced. Some people no doubt see it as a caricature of sports cars, with its brawny rear, steeply sloped pitch and Batmobile-esque cockpit. But somehow it all comes together gracefully, even sublimely.

What are the odds? Excellent--the blue chip of American sports cars.

Porsche Boxster

When it comes to classic sports cars, it's hard to bet against Porsche. The essential design elements of its 911, for example, first built in 1963, are easily discerned in the 2001--an enduring style that's made the 911 one of the world's great sports cars. But Porsche's track record isn't as solid when it comes to more affordable cars. Remember the 914? Neither will history. With its VW engine and boxy shape, the car was widely ridiculed.

But with the Boxster, its first all-new model in 19 years, Porsche got the formula right. (Of course, "affordable" is a relative term here: Starting at $42,000, the Boxster is about half the cost of the 911 convertible, but still not exactly cheap.) By borrowing just enough from the company's stable of design cues to make it instantly recognizable as a Porsche, the car exudes a classic feel. And yet it takes enough of a design departure to give it a distinctively modern look.

One good sign of its classic-ness is that in 1999 and 2000 the Boxster was the top-ranked sports car in terms of "residual value," according to the Automotive Lease Guide, the leasing industry's arbiter of future value forecasts. This year, it came in second--to the 911.

What are the odds? Somewhere between very good and excellent.

Mercedes SLK

The print ad campaign for the Mercedes SL is compelling. It displays the car's evolution, showing five incarnations since the early 1950s. The message is obvious: The new SL will one day be as much a classic as its ancestors (which include the Gull-Wing coupe, one of the most collected cars ever).

But I'm not sure I buy it. For all the clean, straight lines and solid looks of the new SL, it lacks the visual drama of the earlier two-seaters. Mercedes' smaller but sportier SLK, at $38,900 about half the price of an SL, is actually a more distinctive car. But it still lacks true joie de vivre. "It is a very nicely proportioned, decent-looking car, based on commonsense car design," comments Okuyama. "It covers every single virtue in car design, yet it doesn't make a statement that makes it jump out of the crowd."

Okuyama argues that Mercedes has suffered since pulling out of auto racing in the '50s, ending the cross-pollination between racing and consumer divisions that traditionally brings cutting-edge ideas to sports cars. He thinks the next update of the SL, scheduled for 2003, will reflect Mercedes' return to racing in the '90s. Gull wings are likely, he says. Curators, start your engines.

What are the odds? Better than even--but not by much.

BMW Z3

I've wanted to love the Z3 ever since hearing it was going to be the new Bond car back in 1997. Bond cars traditionally end up classics: the Aston Martin DB5 from Goldfinger, the Lotus Esprit Turbo in The Spy Who Loved Me; the list goes on.

And taken in pieces, the Z3 has some stylish elements. From certain angles it even inspires. But for some reason, the car as a whole never grabbed me. Was it too narrow? A little off-balance? I was never quite sure--until I spoke with Okuyama. "It doesn't have the classic proportions," says Okuyama, who feels that proportion--even more than the details in a car's metallic skin--is paramount. "The cabin is so big, the trunk is too short, and the upper half of the body seems to stick up so far. It's very awkward. It looks kind of dumb."

The Z3's shortcomings are doubly perplexing to me because its more expensive cousin, the Z8, is one of the most beautiful cars on the road today. Though unapologetically retro in style, it's everything I wish the Z3 was. Except in price. At $125,000, it won't be seen in my garage anytime soon, but don't be surprised to find it in a museum decades hence.

To be fair, I do think the Z3, at about $31,000, offers a lot for the money, and it does exude a certain solidity that you don't find in inexpensive roadsters like the Miata, the Toyota MR2 or the Honda S2000. But considering that the Porsche Boxster and Audi TT are priced similarly, it leaves me less shaken than stirred.

What are the odds? Fifty-fifty.

Lexus SC 430

Lexus has always been known as luxurious, quiet, comfortable and reliable. All attractive qualities, of course--but not, in my opinion, the defining characteristics of a sports car. So when I arranged for a test drive, I expected to be underwhelmed. But I have to admit, I was taken by the car at first. Part of the appeal, I think, is that the SC 430 is close enough to its concept-car design to be fun simply to look at. The inside was luxurious, as expected, and I was awed by the mesmerizing retractable hardtop. What's more, unlike some critics, I found it fun to drive. At one point, when a teenager shouted, "Show me what it's got!" I obliged by taking a turn at, shall we say, faster than the recommended speed. It sure felt like a sports car then.

Such moments, unfortunately, were too few. At an idle, you can hardly tell the engine is running; even with the accelerator depressed the car emits only a soft hum. I was also disappointed that the SC 430 only comes in automatic. All in all, the car rarely reminds you that you're in a sports car--something that I like to remember even in the slow lane. More significantly, despite my generally positive impression, I found little in the way of boldness and distinction of design. Ultimately, it impressed me as decidedly more sporty than sports car. More life-in-the-fast-lane than autobahn. More cute than classic.

No doubt this car will make many people very happy, even at $58,455. It's just hard to see it finding a spot at an exhibit of turn-of-the-century automotive wonders 30 years down the road.

What are the odds? Possible--but not terribly likely.