In 1964, Detroit was undergoing a massive identity crisis. The "Total Performance" era was kicking into high gear, and Chrysler was caught right in the middle of a transition that would define the next decade of American muscle. If you walked into a showroom back then, you weren't just looking at transportation. You were looking at a weapon. The 1964 Plymouth Sport Fury was exactly that—a mid-sized street fighter that looked like a tuxedo but hit like a sledgehammer. It wasn't just another trim level. Honestly, it was the peak of the B-body platform before things got truly wild with the Hemi craze.
The Year the Styling Finally Made Sense
People often forget how weird Mopar styling was in the early sixties. 1962 and 1963 were... adventurous. Virgil Exner’s influence was fading, and Elwood Engel was bringing in a cleaner, more linear aesthetic. The 1964 Plymouth Sport Fury benefited from this shift massively. It looked sharp. Square. Confident. The "Savoy" and "Belvedere" were fine for your uncle, but the Sport Fury was the one with the bucket seats and the premium trim that actually made you feel like you’d "made it."
It’s got that distinctive three-box design. The horizontal grille and the stacked-looking quad headlights gave it a wider stance than it actually had. You've probably seen them at car shows with the signature "Leaning Tower of Power" Slant-6, but let’s be real. Nobody buys a Sport Fury for a six-cylinder. You buy it for the V8.
What’s Under the Hood? (The Stuff That Actually Moves)
The engine options for the 1964 Plymouth Sport Fury were basically a menu of how fast you wanted to go and how much you wanted to scare your passengers. You had the 318 wide-block, which was a reliable cruiser. Then you stepped up to the 361. But the real magic? That was the 383-cubic-inch V8.
- The 383 Commando: This was the sweet spot. It produced 330 horsepower and enough torque to wrinkle the pavement. It used a four-barrel carburetor and dual exhaust to make sure everyone on your block knew when you were coming home.
- The 426 Street Wedge: Now we're talking. This wasn't the Hemi (which was technically available as a "Super Commando" for racing late in the year), but the Wedge was a monster. It was lighter than the Hemi and, for many street drivers, it was actually more manageable.
- The Transmission Factor: You could get the four-speed manual, which is what the purists want today. But Chrysler’s 727 TorqueFlite automatic was arguably the best automatic transmission in the world at the time. It shifted hard, held up to abuse, and used those iconic push-button controls on the dash. Yes, push-buttons.
Basically, if you were sitting at a red light in 1964 and a Sport Fury pulled up next to you with "426" on the fender, you probably just looked the other way.
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The Interior: More Than Just Vinyl
Inside the 1964 Plymouth Sport Fury, things were surprisingly upscale. We aren't talking about Cadillac luxury, but it was a "gentleman’s muscle car." You got bucket seats. You got a center console that looked like it belonged in a cockpit. The dashboard was a masterclass in mid-century industrial design, featuring a lot of chrome and clear, easy-to-read gauges.
The upholstery used a "Western" style pattern in some configurations—heavy-duty vinyl with metallic accents. It felt substantial. When you shut the door, it sounded like a bank vault closing. That’s something you just don't get with modern cars. There was no plastic rattling. Just steel and pride.
The Racing Pedigree and the 426 Hemi
We can't talk about the 1964 Plymouth Sport Fury without mentioning February 1964 at Daytona. That was the debut of the 426 Hemi. Richard Petty didn't just win; he dominated. He lapped the field. While the cars on the track were technically "Belvederes" or "Savoys" stripped down for weight, the Sport Fury reaped all the marketing rewards.
People saw Plymouths winning on Sunday and went to buy a Sport Fury on Monday. It’s the classic American success story. The 1964 model year was the moment Chrysler proved their "B-Body" could handle massive power. It wasn't just about straight-line speed either; the torsion-bar front suspension meant these cars actually handled better than the contemporary Fords and Chevys, which were still bouncing around on coil springs.
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What Collectors Get Wrong
A lot of people think every 1964 Plymouth Sport Fury is a gold mine. Not quite. You have to look at the VIN. A genuine Sport Fury (Model Series P-4) is worth significantly more than a Belvedere dressed up to look like one.
Check the trim. The Sport Fury had unique side molding with a color-keyed insert. If those are missing or replaced with cheap chrome strips, the value drops. Also, look at the dash. If it’s been hacked up for a modern double-din radio, you’re looking at a massive restoration headache. Originality is king in the Mopar world. Collectors like Galen Govier have spent decades documenting these small details because, in the world of 1960s Mopar, a single digit in a part number can be the difference between a $30,000 car and a $100,000 car.
Driving One Today
Driving a 1964 Plymouth Sport Fury in the 2020s is an exercise in sensory overload. There is no power steering unless it was specifically optioned (and even then, it’s "one-finger" over-assisted). The brakes are drums unless someone has done a disc conversion—which, honestly, you should probably do if you plan on driving in traffic.
But when you floor it? That 383 or 426 wakes up. The front end lifts. The sound isn't a high-pitched scream like a modern Ferrari; it’s a low-frequency growl that you feel in your chest. It’s visceral. It’s honest.
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Common Issues to Watch For
If you're hunting for one of these, you need to be a bit of a detective. Rust is the primary enemy. Check the rear quarter panels and the trunk floor. Because these were unibody cars, the structural integrity depends on the floors and the "frame" rails being solid. If the torsion bar mounts are rotted, walk away. It’s a nightmare to fix.
Parts availability is better than it used to be, thanks to companies like YearOne and AMD, but trim pieces for the Sport Fury are still hard to find. If you buy a "project car" that’s missing the specific Sport Fury badging, prepare to spend months scouring eBay and Mopar swap meets.
Actionable Insights for Potential Buyers
- Verify the VIN: Ensure the car is a true Sport Fury (Model Series P) and not a clone.
- Check the Torsion Bars: Inspect the mounting points for rust or stress cracks; this is the heart of the suspension.
- Prioritize the Transmission: If it’s a push-button automatic, make sure the cable linkage is adjusted correctly; they are bulletproof but can be finicky if neglected.
- Consider the "Wedge" vs "Hemi": For a driver, the 426 Wedge is often more reliable and easier to tune than an original Hemi.
- Join a Community: Groups like the "Mopar B-Body Forum" are invaluable for sourcing niche parts and technical advice.
The 1964 Plymouth Sport Fury remains a high-water mark for Mopar. It combined the ruggedness of the early sixties with the performance potential of the muscle car era. It wasn't just a car; it was a statement of intent from Plymouth. Even sixty years later, that statement still rings loud and clear.