As racetracks go, windswept, patchy Llandow is not one of the world’s greats. But it is somewhere we can cut loose. As driving roads go, Llandudno’s jogger-heavy Marine Drive is not one of the world’s greats. But it does look very pretty in photographs. These are our bookends. And they’re handily distant from one another.

I might have almost planned it that way. What am I saying? I did. Because it’s what happens in between that’s important. On the B4268 and A470, the A494 and B4391, plus the B4501 that I desperately wanted to have time to do that day as we drove from morning in south Wales to a stunning sunset in the north, but didn’t. So we went there the next day instead.

The Toyota Supra is a sports car. Not a track car, so Llandow is chiefly a distraction, a chance to capture some drama and see what happens at the limit. Nor, says Toyota, is the Supra a GT. What it is, is a £50,000 alternative to the Porsche Cayman. An everyday-usable upwardly aspirational sports coupe. Like the BMW M2 Competition, or the Alpine A110. What a cracking line-up of cars. Seriously, I mean that – there’s not a duffer here. And each brings something different and exciting to the party: The Cayman brings mid-engined professionalism, the M2 brings boisterous manners, the Alpine brings flow and lightness and the Supra brings, well, another BMW actually. It’s a Z4 underneath.

You’ll have read this before, so I’ll keep it brief. BMW and Toyota co-developed the platform, and then because Toyota went cap-in-hand to BMW (it needed the Munich marque’s straight-six engine to give the new Supra some sort of connection to the old A80), BMW had the upper hand and negotiated hard. Very hard.

No, Toyota couldn’t have an M division engine. And yes, it does have to be built in Austria. Toyota came away pushing a BMW-branded trolley filled to the brim with every component needed to build its new car. Apart from a rev-counter.

The needle of which is making rapid progress around the dial. I doubt very much whether the average Supra owner will ever take their car on track, but they should because the Supra likes tracks. The rear end is well supported, so it doesn’t sag, squat or squirm when you’re hard on the power out of tight corners. And the rear works harmoniously with the precise, confidence-inspiring front axle. It’s not the last word in steering feel, but you know where you are with it because the chassis communicates. It’s biddable, rarely understeers, readily oversteers, but after a few laps the brakes start to go (only the M2 is heavier) and you realise the gearbox and engine aren’t the sharpest.

It’s the Porsche I choose to take for the first road stint after Llandow. Chiefly because on my 120-mile drive to the circuit that morning, the Supra’s refinement and comfort had impressed me and I want to see how the Cayman compares. There’s more road noise – a surprising amount of intrusion, in fact – but the suspension is compliant, the steering undistracted. Yes, the manual gearbox keeps you busier, but after no more than a few minutes it becomes part of the routine, as simple to integrate into the driving as a glance in the mirror, and far more satisfying.

What I love about the Cayman is just using it. There’s an oily precision to every control, where everything operates so harmoniously that you’re not sure where gearbox ends and clutch begins, where suspension ends and steering begins. This sense of oneness, of mechanical completeness, sets the Cayman apart. It’s tactile and engaging at any speed, and on the busy valley roads south of the Brecon Beacons it’s a content companion.

But then we climb and the engines are put to work and, I’m sorry, but I still can’t forgive Porsche for this four-cylinder. It sounds flaccid, coarse… a square peg to the Cayman’s round hole mechanical make-up. And this is the GTS, an almost £60,000 car. It’s only 15bhp fruitier than the £8,000 cheaper S, which Porsche justifies by fitting a whole host of niceties: adaptive dampers, torque vectoring, 10mm lower springs, dynamic transmission mounts, a driving-mode dial and Sport Chrono with launch control. You’d imagine that would be it for options. But no, as tested, this is a £76,000 car.

I can’t see what it has that the others – all over £20,000 less – are missing. I switch back to the Supra. It’s a £54,000 Pro model and comes with heated and cooled seats, rear camera, wireless charging and a kick-arse JBL sound system (a second not-BMW part). It’s not lacking for stuff. More importantly, constant exposure to the Zupra’s cabin is softening my attitude to it. There’s not even an attempt at disguising the BMW typefaces and switchgear, but the surfaces are nice to touch, the control interfaces logical and CarPlay works – that puts it ahead of any other Toyota. But, like the Porsche, I have an issue with the engine sound. That noise, right at the heart of the car, is pure BMW. And it sounds wrong.

As with the Cayman, I try to ignore it, even though it plays a much richer tune. Once again, this is a smooth car to operate. It’s best in Sport mode, which sharpens the throttle for pulling away, and, with torque peaking at only 1,600rpm, it’s effortlessly rapid. The others all have to work harder for their speed – not that they’re any slower. Timed to 100mph (161kph) in 9.6secs, there was nothing in it between Toyota and Porsche. The Alpine, making do with 100bhp less, was only 0.7secs behind, the BMW a similar margin ahead. All fast cars with more than enough speed to whip past slower traffic.

Wales, freshly washed by rain, is radiantly green as we convoy up past Builth Wells and Rhayader. I swap from Supra to M2 Comp and it’s fascinating. Similar cabin vibe, but entirely different demeanour. Now, the standard M2 used to be a great car, broad-shouldered and amusing, but this Competition (the only M2 you can buy now) with the 404bhp twin-turbo engine nabbed from the M3, is the one to have. It’s stiff and aggressive and direct and connected. I really enjoy the way it goes down the road, properly energetic, a bit stroppy and hurled along by easily the best motor of the bunch. The others are basically one-trick ponies: turbos blow, force arrives, then they tail off. The M2 has more range, more bite, more charisma. Good torque low down, rasping soundtrack, a hard kick at four-and-a-bit, a mighty lunge to the 8,000rpm limiter, and a whipcrack upshift. Stick that in your pipe, Cayman.

It’s so much more special than anything else here – and it makes the Supra’s powertrain feel limp. It’s got some attitude, the M2, a forceful personality which makes you overlook the lack of brake feel and abrupt suspension. This is a sports car, and it’s the one that’s based on a run-of-the-mill hatch and has four seats and a boot. Happy days.

I swap back to the Supra for the final run up to Llandudno, because I find it the hardest to nail down. The others all have strong character traits, elements that make them unique here, but the Supra, whether because of its complex genealogy or slick tuning, is tough to pin down. It does very little wrong indeed – it’s important to bear this in mind. It’s much better than a Z4 to drive, body control is excellent, it’s fast, punchy and if you like the long-bonnet, short-tail layout (so the nose swivels into corners a long way ahead and you’re following behind, sat atop the rear axle like a charioteer) you’ll love the Supra. It’s good-looking, you know it won’t miss a beat, the boot is the best here and I reckon it’ll be the easiest of these four to live with.