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Updates from February, 2012

  • Monterey, Calif. • Having soldiered on with the Tribute for way too long, Mazda finally ditched it in favour of a range of crossovers that are both attractive and athletic. The newbie is the CX-5. As with its larger siblings — the CX-7 and CX-9 — it arrives with strong styling and plenty of zoom-zoom. The CX-5, which is offered in GX, GS and GT guises, is also the first Mazda to get the full SkyActiv treatment.

    The thrust of SkyActiv goes well beyond the powertrain (engines and transmissions) to include the body and suspension. It is an all-encompassing philosophy that has one simple goal — make the recipient environmentally friendly and efficient without killing the joy of the drive.

    In the CX-5’s case, it starts with the 2.0-litre direct-injected four-cylinder engine. With a compression ratio of 13:1, the CX-5’s engine is the highest to be found in production. The secret to running an engine this way while consuming a diet of regular gasoline is simple — get all of the exhaust gas out of the engine, which keeps things cooler. The use of a four-into-two-into-one exhaust manifold (a good racing header) accomplishes this without causing harmful cold-start emissions. The engine, as employed in the CX-5, produces 155 horsepower and 150 pound-feet of torque at 4,000 rpm. These aren’t outstanding numbers, but they are enough to get the job done. There is an enthusiastic launch that carries on through to the mid-range. It is, however, a little soft at the top end. Ideally, the crossover needs another 15 hp or, better yet, the 2.2L turbodiesel employed in Europe and the 310 lb-ft of torque it makes.

    The CX-5’s power is put the road through a six-speed manual (base GX only) or automatic transmission and the front or all four wheels. The manual box is slick and has a light, progressive clutch, which means it is an easy unit to live with in an urban environment. For me, however, the better choice proved to be the automatic. It has the smarts programmed into it to ensure it is always in the right gear for the circumstance. Kickdown is willing and there is a manual mode should the need arise. A disappointment is the lack of a sport mode, which would sharpen things by holding the gears longer without forcing the driver to do it manually.

    There are similar differences between the front-drive and all-wheel-drive models. The front-drive CX-5 is balanced and sure-footed, but the better choice is all-wheel drive (which is optional on the GX and GS). In this instance, the system always sends some power to the rear wheels; how much depends on vehicle load, road conditions and so on. Regardless, the end result is a much smoother transition when the power being directed rearward is increased. It is such that the system remains invisible to the driver.
    It takes considerable nerve to put a crossover on a race track, but that’s exactly what Mazda did — Laguna Seca, no less, a ribbon of tarmac ranked as one of the Top 10 tracks in the world. Remarkably, the CX-5 was never out of its depth, even as it plummeted down through the famed Corkscrew. The suspension setup is just about spot on — the damping is crisp without feeling firm, which takes care of unwanted body roll without killing ride comfort, while understeer proved to be far enough out that it remained pretty much a non-issue. Likewise, the electrically assisted steering is both fast and refined to the touch.

    I was truly surprised by just how well both the front- and all-wheel-drive models handled a wide-open throttle romp around the track. However, there was a difference in driving feel between the models. The front-driver wearing P225/65R17 tires tended to display more understeer; the all-wheel-drive GT rotated faster because of its P225/55R19 tires and the fact the rear tires were helping to put some of the power down. The moral of the story — take the AWD!

    The other thing that proved astonishing was the CX-5’s average fuel economy under the worst possible, flat-out-all-the-time driving conditions on the track. It consumed 14.2 litres per 100 kilometres, which is at least 10 L/100 km less than I expected. I guess SkyActiv does work.

    Inside, the CX-5 is very nicely attired, with plastics that are a cut above the segment norm. It is also nicely equipped. The GX includes air conditioning and the usual power options, along with cruise control and pushbutton start. The GS adds content such as heated front seats, six-way driver’s seat, Bluetooth, 5.8-inch colour information display — which includes a backup camera — and it brings the safety of blind spot monitoring. The GT comes loaded — leather, automatic climate control, rain-sensing wipers, a nine-speaker Bose sound system and so on.

    The CX-5 also brings the necessary versatility and flexibility, especially with the GS and GT models. Here, the rear seats are split 40/20/40, so there is a built-in ski pass-through and room for two passengers. As for cargo space, the squared-off area provides 34.1 cubic feet of room with the seats upright and 65.4 cu. ft. with them folded flat. There is also a handy privacy cover that’s attached to the tailgate. Opening the tailgate moves the cover out of the way in a hands-free motion.

    Having driven some very early prototypes about a year ago, I had an inkling of what the production CX-5 would be like. Even that, though, did not prepare me for just how well rounded it is in finished form. Simply, the crossover will give its peers a real run for their money. The front-drive CX-5 GX manual starts at $22,995; the fully loaded GT tops out at $33,890.


    2:00 pm on February 29, 2012
     
  • A long time ago, at a car company far, far away, there once was a car. It was a pretty car, lovingly shaped by Italian legend Italdesign Giugiaro and crafted by dedicated Japanese worker bees eager to share their relentless pursuit of perfection. It was also a sporty car, dedicated to peeling rubber and making vroom sounds on command. It was a happy time.

    Then darkness descended. Somnolence and caution ruled the land. The once-bustling factory was now ruled by faceless bureaucrats, penning boring cars and designing tedious technology. The once-proud worker bees were sad.

    Then, along came an economic crisis — a really big economic crisis that had all the other car companies in a tizzy. But, while everyone else was in turmoil, the little luxury automaker that once could shucked all its years of monotony and, led by a former race car driver dressed up as a CEO, threw off the shackles of tedium and, if the fairy tale that is public relations is to be believed, lived happily ever after building exciting cars. Thus was the 2013 Lexus GS borne.

    It really has been a tough road for the GS. In 1993, it was heralded as the first truly sporting Japanese sedan. Italian design and Japanese engineering sounded like an ideal mix and, for a while, the GS was the toast of the mid-sized luxury sedan market.
    Then, it just got plain old boring, Lexus seemingly disinterested in pursuing the concept of a luxury sporting sedan and customers in turn ignoring the bland result. Indeed, for the better part of a decade, the Lexus GS has been one of Canada’s most forgotten cars.

    I suspect that’s about to end.

    The 2013 GS is essentially all new. Even more important than the fact that most of its parts have been replaced is that its tired old please-don’t-notice-me persona has been jettisoned. Gone, for instance, is the bland styling, replaced with what surely can be forgiven — considering Lexus’s little styling gnomes have only just recently been granted their artistic freedom — a grille that’s a little over the top. Nevertheless, a little too aggressive is a whole bunch better than really boring. And, if all those slashes and scoops in the front fascia do nothing else, they at least signal there’s a new car sporting the GS badge.

    I tested the full-zoot GS 350 — labelled the F Sport — packed with all manner of sporting technologies that BMW M brags about so insufferably. Besides the stiffer suspension and uprated dampers, for instance, there’s an adjustable suspension, complete with its own rotary control button and bright digital readout on the dashboard’s 310-millimetre LCD screen. Not only does this computerized system vary damping between Normal and Sport+ modes, but, even within those two base settings, the electronics monitor how stiff or soft the shocks have to be.

    The result is an all-independent — double wishbones in front and a multi-link rear — suspension system that’s more than just tokenly firm. Fully zoomed out in its Sport+ mode, the GS exhibits precious little roll and a spectacular level of grip, even on the dusty, salty roads of an Ontario winter. Even the steering is calibrated AMG firm rather than Asian flighty. Indeed, if anything, I’d recommend to Lexus that the steering effort could be a little lighter at parking lot speeds — but only if it didn’t affect the excellent feedback it generates at higher speeds. The rear-wheel-drive version of the F gets a variable-ratio steering system, which should alleviate the problem. Why the AWD version doesn’t is quite the mystery.

    Nor is the ride dramatically sacrificed for this new-found turn of speed. Oh, sure, current Lexus loyalists will almost certainly be surprised by the new GS’s firmness, but, really, it’s nothing that hasn’t been offered in a BMW M suspension package before. Considering that Lexus currently sells less than 500 GSs a year, it’s not risking much with the dramatic about-face.

    Lexus’s evergreen 3.5-litre V6 has also been upgraded for 2013, though to a far lesser degree. Horsepower is up to 306, a minuscule jump of two ponies. Mid-range torque has also been fattened up, but this is still a motor that likes to rev.

    It also likes to make noises doing so. Lexus has, believe it or not, added a sound generator to the intake plumbing and, if you put your foot into it, there’s an entire symphony of V6 engine noises to be had. As much as the new-found boldness is lauded, however, it is worth noting that no V6 — even this one massaged by the masters of refinement — can match the sweetness of an in-line six. In this one regard, BMW’s 535i still holds the advantage.

    It’s one that is extended somewhat by Lexus’s decision to soldier on with a six-speed automatic transmission. Eight is now de rigueur when it comes to self-shifting cogs and upstart Hyundai is rumoured to be working on a 10-speed slushbox. The Lexus gearbox is a slick-shifting affair and there is a paddle-shifting manumatic mode, but if you’re looking for the one thing that Lexus left out, it was an upgraded transmission.

    The F Sport is, however, available with all-wheel drive, the tester transmitting 30% of its torque to the front wheels under normal circumstances and 70% to the rear: 50/50 distribution is available if everything goes awry. It’s worth noting that the F Sport is available in AWD and rear-drive guises. The slightly sportier rear-driver gets wider rear tires and one of those rear-wheel steering mechanisms that keeps going in and out of vogue. And, lastly, rear-wheel-drive F Sport models get a set of two-piece full-floating front disc brakes, a rarity even among exotic sports cars. Braking is, needless to say, exemplary. Again, why the AWD version of the F Sport doesn’t benefit is a mystery.

    If the exterior’s styling is trying just a tad too hard, the cabin’s decor speaks of a designer at the top of his game, with equal measures of audacity and elegance mixed in. This is, in a simple comparison, the first interior to challenge Audi for the leadership in savoir faire.

    Imbued, as so many luxury cars are now, with an onboard computer that seemingly controls everything, the GS is a brilliant mesh of uncluttered Spartan beauty and sensible functionality. Buttonry, thanks to that computer, is minimized — but only where sensible. Radio stations are sought/scanned via that computer thingie, but they can also be changed manually via a knob (which, by the way, is machined, not cast, from aluminum,  just like the volume control switch).

    The computer thingamabob, meanwhile, is mostly simple to use, aided in large part by a mouse that really is a mouse and not just a twirly thing that can just go around in circles. With the GS’s controller, you can move the scroll arrow in any direction just like on the screen in your den. When it approaches an icon, it hones in and, with a simple tap, the submenus are yours to peruse.
    Said perusing is made easier because Lexus offers an optional LCD screen that is a humongous 310 millimetres wide. That’s 12.3 inches, folks, dwarfing anything I’ve seen in a dashboard — at least in a dashboard not modified by Big Pimpin’ TV. That means you can divide the screen between the navigation system and the radio and still read both. Consider this a must-have upgrade. The only negative to Lexus’s take on the onboard computer is that, unlike the Audi system, which has a back button right beside the controller, the Lexus’s is on-screen and not nearly as easy to use.

    There’s plenty more to admire about the decor, however. My tester had a special-order Red Rock leather, which I think adds both pizzazz and class (says he from his Las Vegas-like heart-shaped bed). The 18-way adjustable front seats are heated and ventilated and the steering wheel can be likewise climate-controlled. There’s even a nice, little bejewelled clock in the centre dash whose little arms, Lexus Canada guarantees, are actually more milled aluminum than cheap plastic.

    It all adds up to a GS as enticing as the original. It’s fast, it’s sporty and, perhaps most of all, it has a personality. The relatively minor disappointment that it may not have the latest in transmission technology should be somewhat mitigated by Lexus Canada’s decision to hold the base price line down to $51,900 — some $2,700 less than last year’s base model — and even the full-boat F Sport with all-wheel drive rings in for less than $60,000.

    Lexus is back in the car business.


    9:00 am on February 29, 2012
     
  • Hyundai’s rise through the automotive ranks has been meteoric — the company has shot from non-entity to major player in short order. Success like this comes from one thing: product. Having refreshed its core models, Hyundai has turned its attention to the Genesis Coupe.

    As before, the Coupe will be offered in four models. The base car, which starts at $26,499, is the 2.0T. It is followed by the R-Spec, which is the go-faster model in as much as it features a reworked suspension, a Torsen limited-slip rear differential, bigger Brembo brakes and 19-inch wheels. The Premium mirrors the base model, but it earns more equipment, including leather seats, a navigation system, a 360-watt audio package and a power sunroof. The lineup is anchored at the top end by the 3.8 GT ($36,999), which gets everything the R-Spec and Premium packages bring plus items such as xenon headlights and LED daytime running lights.

    The 2013 Coupe is a mid-cycle makeover — a new nose with a larger, more aggressive grille and more sculpted hood. New LED tail lights differentiate the rear end. Inside, the materials take a big step forward as does the layout. The addition of three gauges to the centre stack speaks to the Coupe’s sporting bias — they show fuel economy, oil pressure and either boost pressure in the 2.0T or torque output for the 3.8 GT.

    When first launched, the Genesis Coupe was a good car that only lacked one thing — a serious sense of urgency. For 2013, that goes by the wayside. Both the four-cylinder and V6 models now get significantly more power without affecting fuel economy.

    In the case of the 2.0-litre turbocharged four-cylinder, which is a modified version of last year’s unit, a new twin-scroll turbocharger and an intercooler that’s 53% larger bump the output to 274 hp and 275 pound-feet of torque at 2,000 rpm. That’s a whopping increase of 64 hp and 52 lb-ft compared with the outgoing engine. One of the reasons the engine does not change dramatically boils down to the ability of the aftermarket tuner to tweak things a little further. The 3.8 V6 benefits in a similar manner — the addition of direct injection pushes the output to 348 hp and 295 lb-ft of torque, which is an increase of 42 hp and 29 lb-ft, respectively.

    The good news is that unlike so many performance-oriented engines, both consume a diet of regular-grade gasoline, although the best performance and the numbers quoted are derived from the use of premium fuel — there is a 15-hp drop on the turbo and a four-hp reduction on the V6 when dining on regular fuel.

    Both engines can be teamed with the base six-speed manual or Hyundai’s all-new eight-speed automatic. The manual has a refined gate, short throws and a light, progressive clutch. The better choice — heresy, I know — is the automatic. It features Normal, Sport and Manual modes, the last of which can be operated through the shifter or via steering wheel-mounted paddles. Even when left to its own devices, it manages to find the right cog every time. It is an advanced unit that really makes the best of the new-found power.

    The Coupe’s body uses a lot of ultra-high-strength steel, which brings a solid base of operations for the suspension. Up front, there are MacPherson struts, while the rear suspension features a five-link setup. The whole lot has been retuned — the objective was to reduce body roll and deliver better road feel while improving ride comfort. For the most part, the rework has the desired effect. There is noticeably less harshness over smaller road ripples, yet there is enough travel to absorb larger swales. The steering also has a keener feel and a crisper turn-in.

    The R-Spec and GT earn firmer suspensions with larger anti-roll bars. They are noticeably tauter in nature, which hones the driving experience, especially when the Coupe is driven to its considerable limit. On the track, the R-Spec ducked and weaved without so much as putting a wheel wrong. The upside is that the ride quality is good enough to live with on a daily basis. The most impressive part of the Coupe proved to be its seemingly endless supply of torque — and that applies equally to both engines. Dive deep into a corner, nail the gas at the apex and it will pull strongly toward the next corner.

    The other welcome change is a three-stage electronic stability control system. Default is all-on (engine and brake intervention), while the mid-position shuts off the engine side of the control logic, meaning it relies on brake management to keep the car pointed in the right direction. This position allows a rewarding large latitude before it finally steps in and rains on the driver’s fun. For the brave, there is an off position and, unlike so many other modes, it does turn everything off. Push too hard and the back end will take the lead!

    The revisions to the 2013 Genesis Coupe address all of the nits found in the previous car. The powertrain upgrades really serve to vault the car from mildly pedestrian to truly sporting — so much so that it actually gives some more expensive marques (think Nissan 370Z) a real run for their money. The car hits dealer showrooms in early spring.


    2:21 pm on February 22, 2012
     
  • El Centro, Calif. • I hate the sun. I literally wilt in the heat. Seventy degrees Fahrenheit (hey, I’m old school) is just about right. Eighty is bearable. Ninety makes me grumpy and, if the mercury hits the 100 mark, I just stay indoors worshipping the miracle that is Freon. My idea of hell, then, is Phoenix in July and purgatory is El Centro, Calif. any time the sun is above the horizon.

    This means that driving through the south-central California desert, trapped in a convertible with its top down, should have me just about ready to blow a gasket. I’m slathered in sunscreen, a baseball hat protects my follicularly challenged pate and I am swaddled in so much clothing that only my ears are open to those nasty UV rays. Did I mention that I hate the heat?

    Yet, I am not in a foul mood. No pedestrians have been honked at, no slow Buick drivers have been cursed. I haven’t even threatened my co-driver, the evergreen Jim Kenzie, even though he resists all my entreaties to please, please, put up the damned roof. Indeed, something resembling a smile is plastered on my face, occasionally threatening to turn into a full-fledged grin.

    That these bouts of borderline happiness happen to coincide with my pressing firmly on the Jaguar XKR-S’s loud pedal is hardly a surprise. With 550 horsepower underfoot, the big Jaguar spirits forward like the starship Enterprise after some of Mr. Sulu’s finest machinations. But, then, you already knew that since I tested an identically liveried XKR-S Coupe barely three months ago.

    Yet, the smile is somehow wider in the convertible. The second-best thing about high-performance engines — besides their warp-inducing abilities — is their aural attitude. The XKR-S is second to none (OK, no V8) when it comes to raucous exhaust tones. The fact that there’s no roof — cloth or otherwise — between my ears and the exhaust outlets is reason for celebration, rubber-melting climate or not.

    Jaguar has mainly tuned the S version of the XKR’s supercharged V8 by reducing the back pressure in the exhaust system. That means there’s one fewer resonator — that’s muffler to you and me — in the system. There is a whopping great crossover pipe about mid-way up the tubing and there’s also a computer-controlled cut-out that bypasses even more mufflers. If you’re looking for the reason the S makes 40 horses more than the garden-variety XKR, look no farther than all that stainless steel tubing underneath the chassis.

    It’s also why this particularly large V8 sounds like it just escaped from the high banking at Daytona. There’s a sharp-edged crispness that somehow sounds more serious than anything from Mercedes-Benz or BMW. There is absolutely nothing lazy or remote about this engine; if the bright paint job doesn’t convince you that times they are a changin’ at Jaguar, then the in-your-face cacophony emanating from those four exhaust pipes surely will.

    What’s really neat about the new XKR-S, however, is that all this new-found seriousness has not really had an adverse affect on its ability to gobble kilometres like few other grand touring automobiles. Yes, the XKR-S sounds like an only partially muffled Top Fueler and, yes, it can circumnavigate the famed Nürburgring race circuit in a 911-like seven minutes and 50 seconds, but, when it’s not playing hooligan, it’s pretty much the same old comfortable two-seater it’s always been, a fact made all the more remarkable since the XKR-S wears performance-oriented 35-profile Pirelli P-Zeros up front and 30 at the rear and 30% stiffer shock springing than the garden-variety XKR.

    That means that, while the Adaptive Dynamics suspension system can be GT3 firm, it can also be almost XJ-like supple. The steering remains communicative at high speed, yet light enough that granny can troll the supermarket for just the right parking spot. And some of the XKR-S’s handling technology — such as the computer-controlled active rear differential — have no deleterious effect on comfort at all.

    Indeed, the XKR-S’s biggest chassis faux pas is that its traction control system — Jaguar’s Drive Control System — is not nearly as track-oriented as Jaguar claims. When the DCS’s computer determines you’re just being too silly, its intervention is abrupt. Without it, the power is virtually unmanageable, but, despite having a Track setting, it’s still a little too nanny-ish.

    It’s hard to find fault with the powertrain, though. The supercharged 5.0-litre V8 is a model of decorum despite its 550 hp and 502 pound-feet of torque. Since the convertible weighs only 43 kilograms more than the coupe, performance remains unaffected, Jaguar claiming a 4.4-second zero-to-100-kilometres-an-hour acceleration time (identical to the coupe’s) and a top speed of 300 km/h. Jaguar even says the third-generation AJ-V8 is relatively fuel efficient, boasting that, in the United States, no Jaguar — not even this boosted XKR-S — suffers the dreaded gas guzzler tax.

    One could denigrate the XKR-S’s six-speed automatic as retro-techish, but the truth is that it performs superbly. Yes, two more gears à la BMW and Audi would improve efficiency even more, but it shifts smoothly and incredibly quickly. The tranny is a fairly common ZF autobox, so Jaguar is to be commended for its calibration.

    The XKR’s interior survives pretty much intact in the transition to S status. The seats have more bolstering (they’re also adjustable) and there are carbon-fibre-patterned leather trim bits, but, otherwise, it’s identical. That means there’s an excellent sound system, comfortable seats and excellent switchgear. Unfortunately, it also means the cabin is a little cramped, the XKR-S’s major bugaboo.

    But, then, it matters little. All but a few of the 2012 convertible XKR-S’s have been sold and Canada will probably only get about 28 XKR-S — coupes and convertibles together — for 2013. By 2014, this $146,000 limited-edition car will be no longer, Jaguar keeping a tight rein on its exclusivity.

    Of course, if you get desperate, I suppose you could always commandeer one of those rorty, fancy Dan exhaust systems for your own XKR and you will at least have the aural equivalent if not quite the handling.


    9:00 am on February 15, 2012
     
  • My apologies. This won’t be the standard, authoritative road test expected from your resident loud-mouth shnook. You know, the one where — after exhaustive combing of the media kit, not to mention a kilometre or two behind the wheel — I definitively state that, yea or nay, this car is the cat’s meow. Instead, this evaluation will be filled with the ifs, ands and buts of the possible and probable as I grapple with both the car BMW will be immediately offering, what it will offer in the future and what it all means for the brand in the long run.

    I hardly need to remind you that the 3 Series is BMW’s bread and butter. Yes, in recent years, the company has diversified into Sports Activity Vehicles (its semi-pretentious name for SUVs), fortified its larger cars (such as the 5 and 7 Series) as well as started an entire new entry-level line (the 1 Series). But it still remains that whither goes the 3 goes BMW.

    Almost as obvious is that the 3, like the rest of the BMW lineup, is undergoing significant changes. As complex as the automotive world may be, these influences can be summed up in two simple categories: one represented by BMW’s recent (and now defunct) Joy marketing campaign that saw the company trying to broaden its audience, and the other forced upon it by governments legislating increasingly stringent fuel economy standards. The latter has seen BMW drop its traditional high-revving engines in favour of turbocharging when seeking more power (i.e., in topline trims and M-badged models), while the former still sees BMW paying as much attention to comfort and comportment as it does to the handling and steering for which it is legendary.

    Indeed, the 328i I recently tested is a perfect example of both influences. Immediately recognizable as a BMW 3 Series despite its styling revisions, under the hood is yet another of BMW’s  increasingly ubiquitous N20 turbocharged four-cylinders. Already tested in the X1 and more recently in the up-market 5 Series, the four-banger punches well above its weight, its measly 2.0 litres pumping out a boast-worthy 241 horsepower and an even more impressive 258 pound-feet of torque. Compared with the naturally aspirated 3.0L in-line six it replaces in all cars with the “28” suffix, that’s a gain of 11 hp and 58 lb-ft of torque respectively.

    It shows. The new 328i four-cylinder is actually one second faster to 100 kilometres an hour than the previous 328i six. Most noticeable is the surfeit of low-end power, the combination of the turbo four’s abundant torque and the new eight-speed automatic transmission making the new 328i feel much more robust. Launch is forceful (BMW Canada claims a creditable 6.3 seconds to 100 km/h) and, when passing on the highway, the 2.0L feels twice as large. No need for high revs or gnashing of valves, the 328i scoots past traffic with ease. And did I mention that Transport Canada rates the new 328 at 6.8 L/100 km overall, a 22% improvement over the outgoing model?

    On the other hand (and did I not promise a whole passel of “buts”), the four does not feel as smooth or as sporty as the replaced in-line six. It’s difficult to express with words the concept of a faster car being less sporty, but BMW in-line sixes are happy little engines, just bursting with eagerness to rev their hearts out. Meanwhile, the new four, while displaying some enthusiasm for the entire process, is never quite as happy. Nor does it sound as good. That’s not so much a condemnation of the new N20 engine as reiterating that BMW’s in-line six is still one of the sweetest-sounding engines in the biz.

    BMW is betting that most who shop the 328i simply won’t care. In its quest to broaden its clientele, the spinning propeller company quickly determined that not everyone shopping in its showrooms is an enthusiast. Indeed, the vast majority are just looking for a luxury car. For them, the loss of two pistons and the resultant somniferous exhaust note will not be noticed. That they’re getting more horsepower with at least the promise of better fuel economy is far more important.

    The same can be said of the 328i’s comportment. Each successive generation of 3 Series has focused on improving the car’s already-stellar handling. No mass-market four-door sedan has ever compared with the compact BMW’s road holding. Plus, its steering precision is legendary and the balance between ride and handling is almost magical.

    What’s obvious is that, in broadening its audience (for the 328i, at least),  BMW has tilted that balance to the ride side of the equation. Not that the new 328i handles worse than the old car or worse than any of its competition, for that matter — only the obviousness that, in redesigning the 328i, it’s applied its prodigious talent to optimum bump absorption rather than maximum grip. Indeed, no other compact sedan can romp over a set of train tracks with quite the aplomb of the new 328i; the sharp-edged tracks might as well be a minor frost heave so assiduously does the car’s dampers absorb their impact.

    As laudable as that is, however, it does not fit in with BMW’s reputation as a performance sedan non-pareil. For that, one has to move from the $43,600 328i (up $2,100 despite two less pistons) to the $51,200 335i, which sports, among other things, two extra pistons. BMW says the 3.0L — with 300 hp and 300 lb-ft — scoots to 100 km/h in 5.7 seconds. This, if you’ve been paying attention, is just 0.6 seconds quicker than the four-banger. It feels like more. Perhaps BMW switched stopwatches. Or perhaps I’m just a diehard six-cylinder fan, but it feels more powerful than the numbers would indicate. There’s something languid about the way a turbocharged BMW in-line six makes power, cresting early but then revving so sweetly that you’d swear it could go on forever. Drive the 328i by itself and there is nothing wrong with it. Drive the two back to back and there’s no comparison.

    My 335i tester was also equipped with the sport suspension, which tidied up its handling quite nicely. But — and this is the “if” part of equation I mentioned earlier — there’s some question as to whether this option (Adaptive M sport suspension to be exact) will be coming to Canada. While both the 328 and 335 will be offered with a more basic M Sport package, the adaptive version adds adjustable damping to the basic system’s 10-millimetre lower ride height and stiffer springs. According to BMW Canada, however, the Adaptive M’s “sport” setting is almost identical to the optional suspension that will be offered here. BMW’s new electrically boosted, rack-and-pinion-based Variable Sport Steering was also part of the 335i tester’s benefits — and is also recommended. I get that some might not appreciate the difference in steering feel and road holding, but this is where BMW truly shines. The automaker may have some competition when it comes to coddling passengers with the cushiest ride, but it has no equal when it is allowed to focus on building the best-handling performance sedans on the planet.

    In the end, those looking for a specific, concrete conclusion will have to deal with a bit of ambiguity. If you’re a performance purist, you may lament that BMW is now playing in the same turbo-four entry-level luxury sedan market that Audi and Mercedes have been in for so long. On the other hand, BMW still offers — for a higher price tag — all that six-cylinder/handling goodness enthusiasts have always craved.

    If this is just an indication BMW is being more inclusive without losing sight of its core values, then it’s a smart move. However, if it thinks, since 75% of its 3 Series sales now come from four-cylinder owners, that it can shuck all this performance/handling nonsense, it would be good to remember that history is littered with the remains of companies that abandoned their core values. BMW needs the 328i and 335i in equal measure. (You knew I was going to get to the final piece of the puzzle eventually.)


    2:00 pm on February 1, 2012
     
  • Ronda, Spain • In Porsche-speak, the GTS designation stands for Gran Turismo Sport. In simpler terms, it places the recipient above the S model and just shy of the Turbo. As such, it brings better power and a more purposeful look — in this case, the Panamera GTS’s ride height has been dropped by 10 millimetres, which gives it a more hunkered-down profile.

    It also benefits from a body kit that features bolder air inlets at the front and blacked-out highlights (the side sills, window trim and exhaust tips are black), along with large 19-inch wheels wearing enormous P255/45 front and P285/40 rear tires. The use of five-mm spacers between the wheels and hubs then exaggerates the width of the GTS when viewed from the back. Peeking through the rims are upsized red brake calipers and bigger rotors (lifted from the Turbo). Inside, the GTS features deep-dish sport bucket seats with 18-way power adjustment and GTS logos stitched into the headrests, a sport steering wheel with paddle shifters and a full suite of leather and alcantara. It looks terrific.

    Bigger changes are found beneath the full-sized sedan’s outré sheetmetal. First, the naturally aspirated 4.8-litre V8 has been breathed on to make it even brawnier. Modified intake cams with extended valve lift and a new intake system with two additional air intakes — they open at 3,500 rpm and make use of the ram effect that comes with vehicle speed — along with a different engine management system and a loftier 7,100-rpm redline pushes the engine’s output to 430 horsepower (up 30 hp from the S), while peak torque is up 15 pound-feet at 384.

    On paper, the increases don’t look that impressive, but driving the GTS proved they do make an appreciable difference. According to the clock, the run to 100 kilometres an hour — using the launch control system (part of the standard Sport Chrono package) — comes in at 4.5 seconds, while the more important 80-to-120-km/h passing dash is accomplished in a very quick 3.2 seconds. For those brave enough, the GTS tops out at 288 km/h!

    Power is put to all four wheels through Porsche’s advanced all-wheel-drive system and seven-speed twin-clutch gearbox (PDK in Porsche-speak). The latter delivers blindingly fast shifts that can be controlled through the aforementioned paddle shifters.

    The GTS arrives with Porsche’s Active Suspension Management (PASM) system. Add Porsche’s optional Dynamic Chassis Control system and body roll is basically non-existent. Beyond the active anti-roll bars, the chassis control system features an electronic locking rear differential and torque vectoring.

    The GTS features three driving modes. Normal mode delivers a cossetting ride and a sedate throttle. The Sport mode sharpens the throttle and quickens the shifts. Punching the Sport Plus button lowers the ride height by another 15 mm, firms the damping and pushes out the intervention point of the stability control to where it is possible to drift the GTS through a corner. In this mode, the GTS is a very pointable and predictable machine. In short, the combination quells all body roll as it hones the driving experience.
    To prove just how well it all comes together, Porsche turned me loose on the Ascari race track here in the Andalusian town of Ronda. The track rises and falls, which means blind corners — to say it is a technical circuit that demands a capable car is no understatement. The Panamera GTS handled it in stride.

    The adaptive suspension constantly adjusts the spring and damper rates according to the tone of the drive. This action buttons down the car and delivers an unerring response to driver input. Ditto the steering. It is razor sharp and precise to a point where it’s possible to hit an apex within a handful of millimetres. After reaching that point, gently unwinding the steering and rolling into the gas sees the GTS take off like a scalded cat! The one thing that did improve the track experience enormously was the inclusion of Porsche’s optional ceramic brake package. The trash can lid-sized rotors allowed me to delve deeper into the corner before calling on their prodigious stopping power. They also cut brake fade to the point where it was non-existent.

    There are two other items of note. First, exhaust gases are fired through a sportier system that elicits a barking burble at idle, which then builds to a raucous crescendo as the tachometer sweeps to redline. Porsche has also incorporated a backfire when the driver lifts off the gas, which serves to underscore the GTS’s sportier demeanour. The second is the manner in which the gearbox operates. It does everything twin-clutch boxes are expected to do and then some. Under hard braking, for example, the box automatically downshifts (and can drop two or three gears if that’s what is needed) as it rev matches. In the end, the driver is never left fishing for the right gear.

    From a luxury standpoint, the GTS features everything from dual-zone automatic climate control and heated front seats to active bi-xenon headlights with LED daytime running lights. It is a well-contented car, but, as with other Porsches, it features a lengthy options list that can drive the $125,400 starting price skyward to more than $200,000. Mind you, that includes leather-wrapped air vents! The one option that should be considered mandatory — active chassis control aside — is the seriously loud Burmester audio package. Crank it to the max and it will make your ears bleed.

    The new GTS is the most well-rounded Panamera yet. It is more than fast, yet it’s far less frenetic than the Turbo S (thank you). The handling is single-mindedly focused and the driving experience is totally rewarding. It is such that the GTS belies the fact it is a 1,920-kilogram four-door sedan!


    9:00 am on February 1, 2012
     
  • Scottsdale, Ariz. • It’s the curse of the successful sibling: No matter how bright, beautiful or beguiling you might be, you’ll always be in the shadows. Can you imagine being Brad Pitt’s brother? You could be a dolphin-saving volunteer pediatric heart surgeon with a scratch handicap and you’re still not going to get big props at Thanksgiving dinner. And thank God Charlize Theron is an only child; no matter how lucky you were in the DNA sweepstakes, you’d have to guess that you’d always be the ugly sister.

    I sense that the sedan version of Kia’s new Rio may face a similar uphill battle for the hearts and eyes of subcompact shoppers who wander into the company’s dealerships. It’s not that the sedan is ugly. Indeed, the Rio sedan is quite lovely in its own right; it’s just that in comparison with the five-door hatchback, which is the most attractive small car not wearing a Mini badge, the sedan is not quite as attention-grabbing.

    It’s still very fetching, penned by former Audi chief designer Peter Schreyer, who has transformed Kia into one of the more fashionable auto manufacturers. Like the Rio5 — which looks like a baby Audi — one can see a Germanic influence in the sedan’s silhouette. Cover the new Rio in a form-fitting blanket and it could be easily mistaken for the silhouette of a Volkswagen Jetta. Even some of the details, such as the real tail lamp treatment, are vaguely European. That said, the sedan’s headlights seem more bulbous than the hatch’s and, no matter how slinky the rear roofline, it can’t match the hatch’s cute-as-a-bug charm.

    In almost all other ways, the sedan emulates the Rio5’s technology, equipment and performance. That’s no small compliment since the basic Rio’s list of superlatives in the subcompact segment is long. From the exterior — where the Kia incorporates the LED headlights pioneered by Audi (quelle surprise) — to the powertrain — where the piston is coated with a high-tech, Formula One-pioneered Diamond Like Coating (DLC) for reduced friction — Kia has ladled on the high-tech like the Rio is a five-star luxury sedan and not a cheap and cheerful subcompact that starts at $13,795.

    Indeed, though any car can be more — and, too often, less — than the sum its parts, it’s impossible to ignore how much car one does get for that seemingly paltry sum. Included in the $13,795 manufacturer’s suggested list price (dealers may say for less, as the advertisements always stipulate) is an incredible laundry list of big-car features such as  power windows, doors and locks (almost unique in base trim of subcompacts), intermittent wipers, anti-lock brakes and a high-tech electronic stability control system. At the high end, you can outfit a Rio with heated seats, an audio infotainment system and even a power sunroof. Yes, a full-boat EX Luxury edition costs $21,695, but it features a voice-recognition navigation system, a rear-view camera for parking and even an electrically heated steering wheel, for gosh sakes. Wasn’t it just last week that Kias were cheap and cheerful?

    Of course, as with the hatchback, Kia is trumpeting the technology that drives the Rio as much as the gadgets that coddle. First and foremost of these is the 1.6-litre direct-injected in-line four that Kia Canada says is the most powerful in its class. And, indeed, the Rio’s 138 horsepower is the most of any in this segment, save for the Hyundai Accent, which shares the same powertrain. Certainly, compared with the Toyota Yarises of the world, the Rio is a veritable powerhouse.

    It’s also a sophisticated little beast with variable valve timing, a variable inlet tract and a drive-by-wire electronic throttle control system, all systems we’re told designed to deliver mucho high-rpm horsepower and prodigious low-speed torque. It certainly accomplishes the first, but the second is open to interpretation. Yes, the Rio’s 123 pound-feet is superior to all but Chevy’s new Sonic, but it occurs at a rather heady 4,850 rpm. Certainly, the turbocharged Sonic feels more muscular down low. On the other hand, it’s not as if the Rio feels less torquey than the rest of its subcompact competition, only that it so overwhelms them at high rpm that one expects a similar superiority right off the line.

    For that reason, I actually found the engine better suited to its six-speed automatic transmission, mainly because the slushbox automatically keeps the engine singing in the meat of its powerband. The manual, by comparison, requires that the driver row the box himself and, considering that passing is sometimes best accomplished by downshifting two gears, letting a computer do the hard work is more relaxing.

    It helps that the engine spins up there relatively sweetly. The Rio’s Gamma four-banger will never be mistaken for a Lexus V8 or even an Audi four-banger, but it gets the job done with a minimum of fuss, more than can be said of all engines capable of ekeing out 100 kilometres of highway travel with just 4.9 litres of fuel. That fuel, by the way, can be watery old 87 octane despite the Kia’s 11:1 compression ratio thanks to that GDI system that pumps fuel directly into the cylinder at precisely the right time rather than just dumping it into the intake manifold willy-nilly.

    Kia also claims that it is the sportier of the two South Korean automakers, the Hyundai Accent, in this case, sharing a chassis and suspension components but not damper and spring settings. The claim, therefore, is that the Rio is sportier than the Accent; I can’t attest to it, though I can say that, except for a steering system a little shy on feedback (thanks to the fuel-consumption-reducing electric power steering system), the little sedan handles with as much aplomb as anything in this class. Ditto braking, where Kia insists we mention that even the base Rio comes standard with four-wheel discs.

    Indeed, the Rio’s message is fairly simple: You can have more, you can have it for the same low, low price and we can wrap it up in a surprisingly stylish package at no extra cost. I suspect that, whether it’s the pugnacious little Rio5 or this, its four-door sibling, that’s a message that will gain some traction.


    2:00 pm on January 26, 2012
     
  • Santa Barbara, Calif. • Floor the loud pedal of the new-for-2012 Mercedes-Benz ML 63 AMG and the turbocharged 5.5-litre V8 will pin you back in the driver’s seat like an airliner on takeoff, thanks to maximum torque being made available at low rpm.

    Keep your foot in it and this new über-SUV will take you to 100 kilometres an hour in a scant 4.8 seconds, even though it weighs in at 2,345 kilograms. Of course, this kind of full power takeoff is very wasteful fuel consumption akin to tossing a handful of loonies and toonies out the driver’s side window at every green light, but who’s counting?

    Power is addictive and the German automakers are in an all-out battle in the low-volume but very profitable niche segment that is the performance sport-ute. And so enter the new ML 63 AMG, ready to go head to head with the X5M and X6M from BMW as well as the Porsche Cayenne Turbo.

    Mercedes-Benz actually shot the opening salvo in the über-performance SUVs war with the ML 55 AMG, which was released just before the new millennium.

    Back then, it was powered by a 5.5L V8 good for 342 horsepower, which was a big deal at the time but now seems so 1999 in light of the fact that the current ML 350’s engine is rated at 302 hp and the ML 550 at 402 ponies. Between then and now, the goalposts have been moved and 500 hp is now the de facto minimum to play in the performance SUV game.

    That’s no problem for the newcomer with 518 ponies on tap, 550 if you ante up to the AMG Performance Package, which increases turbocharger boost from 1.0 to 1.3 bar, shaving one-tenth of a second off the sprint to 100 km/h in the process.

    AMG engineers claim that fuel consumption has been reduced by 28% over the previous model, thanks in part to an automatic start/stop system that automatically shuts off the engine when the vehicle is stationary, only to re-fire it as soon as the driver releases the brake pedal. The ML 63 AMG is rated at 11.8 litres per 100 km on the EU fuel consumption cycle, but we averaged 14.8 L/100 km on our spirited test drive through the canyons northwest of Santa Barbara.

    Cutting through canyon roads, one can only be amazed at the composure and the road holding of this more-than-two-ton SUV. Simply put, the ML 63 AMG can hold its own against many performance cars. The AMG engineers have done a tremendous job in making it handle as well as it does. The electromechanical rack-and-pinion steering is very accurate and provides a fair amount of feel and the brakes always felt strong and powerful.

    Standard on the ML 63 AMG is the Active Curve System, which automatically adjusts the front and rear anti-roll bars to effectively limit body roll in corners. This system, combined with ultra-wide high-performance tires riding on 21-inch wheels, explains why the cornering speeds can be so high.

    When the vehicle is driven in a straight line, the anti-roll bars are decoupled to improve the ride comfort. With three different settings (Comfort, Sport and Sport Plus) for the air suspension system as well as for the drivetrain (Controlled Efficiency, Sport, Manual), the ML 63 AMG’s driving character can be altered at the touch of only two buttons. Relaxed cruising or sports car handling is therefore available to the driver at all times.

    Inside the cabin, you will find very supportive electrically adjustable front seats as well as a four-spoke performance steering wheel. Sadly, as is the case with all Mercedes-Benz vehicles, the ML 63 AMG is equipped with an infotainment centre screen with old-school graphic displays that pale in comparison with the more vivid and accurate graphics featured in Audis or BMWs.

    The 2012 ML 63 AMG will be available in Canadian dealerships in February or March. Its price starts from $99,900.


    2:00 pm on January 25, 2012
     
  • Chandler, Ariz. • Nothing frightens autojournalists more than the nondescript. Awful is better than mediocre. We can work with terrible or excellent in equal measure and neither the sublime nor the ridiculous scare us. Just don’t give us bland.

    Hell, then, is a subcompact wagon with a 110-horsepower engine and a tan-on-beige paint job. There is no “it,” no attention-grabbing superlative that is both the car’s raison d’être and our easily discerned headline.

    Chevrolet’s new Camaro ZL1 has exactly the opposite problem — a vast plethora of attention grabbers, each worthy of front-page coverage. Should I lead off with its purported 580 horsepower, an above-the-fold headline no matter how little you care about performance cars? Should I tease with its seven-minute 41.27-second time around the world-famous Nürburgring, the circuit in Germany that is now the benchmark for fast cars? Or do I lead with the more pedestrian but equally exciting fact that a Canadian ZL1 will cost only $58,000, a seeming pittance of a markup from the $37,735 SS version and — perhaps even more important to Canadians used to scanning for U.S. bargains — barely seven per cent above the US$54,095 sticker price south of the border?

    What’s surprising, however, is despite those noteworthy numbers, the most surprising aspect of the new Camaro is its sophistication. Despite its relatively lowly Camaro lineage, miserly price tag and cartoonish movie roles, the ZL1 is a bona fide supercar.

    Yes, I am as surprised as you are. Indeed, upon perusing the ZL1’s spec sheet (particularly its 1,900-kilogram curb weight), I expected a car that was simply an SS with a bit more power — fun to spin the tires but not the sort of thing you’d want to spend any time flinging around a race track.

    Instead, the ZL1 turns out to be a veritable track weapon. Besides the obvious — and 580 hp certainly qualifies as obvious — the real reason for the ZL1’s exemplary performance is the latest Gen III Magnetic Ride suspension system and its twin of computerized road-hugging malfeasance, the all-new Performance Traction Management (PTM) traction control system. As incredible as it may seem, the two combine to render the rather portly Camaro into a rapier-like road rocket.

    The ZL1’s Gen III system, like earlier Magnetic Ride systems, uses a unique magneto-rheological fluid that alters its viscosity in response to an electrical signal. Essentially, if you feed the fluid some electricity, it gets thicker — as in water to molasses — in the blink of an eye. This allows Chevy’s engineers to almost instantly alter the suspension performance by computer. One second the ZL1 — thanks to comparatively soft springs and wimpy stabilizer bars — is a model of decorum. In the next, the suspension is Formula One rigid, all because an ECU sent the dampers a few milliamps of current. The new two-coil, two-wire dampers react so quickly, says Alex MacDonald, Chevrolet’s chassis control development engineer, that it’s possible to tailor the car’s tendency to under- or oversteer just by sending current to the dampers. MacDonald claims the system is so powerful that, in its design phase, the ZL1 could be transformed from an understeering pig to an oversteering hooligan with just a few keystrokes from a laptop.

    Throw in what is possibly the automotive world’s most sophisticated traction control system — the aforementioned PTM — and you have one of the most easily controlled high-performance cars on the planet. PTM offers five positions of digital intervention, all the way from a “wet” setting for playing silly bugger in the rain to the full-zoot Track mode that race driver Aaron Link used to set that scalding Nürburgring time (yes, even the experts are faster with an electronic traction nanny, as long as it is suitably calibrated).

    MacDonald also says the PTM differs from other traction control systems by being predictive; it can actually reduce power before the wheels lose traction rather than after as is more common for electronic stability control systems. The result, says MacDonald, is that the ZL1 suffers none of the herky-jerky slide and catch that lesser systems suffer as they try to regain traction after the fact.

    The system works brilliantly. A little intrusive in its normal No. 2 position (especially in automatic-equipped models, which programs in a little more safety), there’s a noticeable delay on exiting corners at full throttle. Move up to position four, however, and response feels as immediate as a race car. The back end drifts on command and, yet, no matter how silly you get, the PTM seems to rein you in before you get into oh-my-Lord-where-did-that-guardrail-come-from trouble.

    Indeed, the ZL1 has few faults, the Magnetic Ride keeping the car flat even under the high-lateral g-force turns at the end of Bob Bondurant’s Firebird Raceway. The sticky (and almost treadless) 20-inch Goodyear Supercar F1s offered plenty of traction and the PTM system kept understeer in check. Even roiling through the track’s high-speed ess turns failed to upset the plot, the big Camaro feeling more like a lithe Lotus when flip-flopping between apexes. Indeed, only in the slowest of first-gear switchbacks does the car’s 1,900 kg overwhelm the Goodyears and push the front end a little wide. The ZL1 is formidable.

    How formidable? That 7:41.27 Nürburgring test time I mentioned earlier sees the ZL1 ahead of Porsche’s mighty 911 GT3 piloted by none other than ’Ring legend Walter Röhrl, as well as the insane (read very expensive) Pagani Zonda S — and less than a second behind Lamborghini’s mighty Gallardo LP570-4 Superleggera. This might be a good time to remind everyone that, yes, I really am talking about a Camaro that costs $58,000.

    Of course, part of the reason for the ZL1’s incredible speed is its monster supercharged 6.2-litre V8. Based on the same basic block and Eaton blower as in the Corvette ZR1 and Cadillac CTS-V, the Camaro’s 580 horses neatly splits the difference between the two, being 58 fewer than the over-the-top Vette but 24 more than the M5-trouncing rapid Caddy. In truth, it is the 556 pound-feet of torque that matter more. Indeed, so massive is the low-end grunt pumped out by the supercharger that I opted for the six-speed automatic version when romping around the race track. No matter what losses the slushbox’s torque convertor might engender, the big 6.2L had more than enough to cover it. In fact, according to GM, the automatic is actually quicker, romping to 96 kilometres an hour in just 3.9 seconds, a tenth quicker than the manual. The automatic is also faster at the top end, its 297 km/h speed seven km/h more than the six-speed manual.

    The engine barks like the real McCoy as well. The exhaust system has a cut-out to let all those horses breathe ­— as is common these days. But even more mesmerizing is the throttle limiter, which kicks in as you exceed top revs. That’s when the ignition cut-out’s staccato beat makes the ZL1 sound like a Le Mans race car at the end of the Mulsanne Straight.

    It all adds up to one of the biggest surprise in recent years — a mid-priced Canadian-built sports car that is as trackworthy as the best from Europe or Japan. Yes, the interior still looks like it fell out of a Chevette and quite why Chevrolet makes a car that can generate 1.0 g of lateral cornering force (within spitting distance of the Corvette ZR1, by the way) and then stints on the seats’ side bolstering is beyond my ken. Nonetheless, this may be the best track day bandit you can buy for $58,000.

    And, just to make that point all the more poignant, in deeming its new car “track capable,” Chevrolet is extending the Camaro’s warranty to track day bandits. Yes, even if something breaks — halfshafts, engine, transmission, etc. — while you beating the Holy-mother-of-you-know-what out of your ZL1 on a track, Chevrolet will cover it under the normal warranty. The only way you can void it is to make non-approved modifications (and, be forewarned, GM will find out). For those of us of middle-class means looking for a supercar we can afford to abuse, this is as good as it gets.


    9:00 am on January 25, 2012
     
  • Nice, France • When the Volkswagen Passat CC debuted four years ago, it did so as the lone “couped” sedan in the affordable segment. For 2013, VW has sharpened its looks. It was already a snappy looker, it is now more so. In somewhat of an about-face, the rest of the world is following Canada’s lead; henceforth, it will be known as just CC, something VW Canada changed in 2010.

    Platform-wise, the CC stands pat, which means it rides on the same 2,711-millimetre wheelbase. However, it now wears a chrome grille that’s in line with the company’s new design language, bolder bi-xenon headlights with under-lamp LED daytime running lights and a sharper front bumper. At the back, the bumper and deck lid have been reworked so the CC is now almost Phaeton-like, and the tail lights feature yet more LEDs. It all serves to sharpen the CC’s overall look. The disappointment is the rather bland palette of colours — nothing really zings. A bright red or blue would be nice.

    Inside, the CC moves forward in many areas, the key change being the deletion of the two-seater back seat in favour of a three-person bench. This simple change increases the buyer appeal enormously. As for the rest of it, well, it, too, stands pretty much pat. In this case, it is not such a bad thing: The two-tone finish, brushed aluminum accents and chrome trim pieces come together to deliver a very rich cabin. Indeed, it is one of the swankiest interiors available regardless of price.

    The one thing that does change is content. Simply, the CC has been moved up-market in step with its looks. There are two basic models — Sportline and Highline. The list of amenities is long in both cases. Along with the usual power items, the Sportline features dual-zone automatic climate control, a rear-view camera, sport bucket seats and a 12-way power driver’s pew. The Highline adds Nappa leather seating and a panoramic roof. The range-topping Highline V6 ups the ante by including a wonderful 600-watt Dynaudio sound system complete with navigation and a 30-gigabyte hard drive (20 gig for music). In somewhat of a twist, the nav system has a quirk. Most systems count the driver down to a turn — turn left in 200 metres. On several occasions, Molly of the maps blurted out “turn right soon.” So much for German exactitude!

    The CC’s base engine is VW’s sweet 2.0-litre turbocharged four. It drives the front wheels through a six-speed manual gearbox or optional six-speed DSG twin-clutch manumatic. Rated at 200 horsepower and 207 pound-feet of torque, it provides plenty of pull and boasts a zero-to-100-kilometres-an-hour time of 7.6 seconds — credit the complete lack of turbo lag and the early 1,700-rpm arrival of peak torque.

    The manual transmission works very nicely with this engine — the ratios are well spaced and nicely tied together. It’s also devoid of the clunky notchiness that plagued VW’s older gearboxes. That stated, the DSG is such a sweet transmission that it should be considered a must. It not only shifts in the blink of an eye and with impeccable smoothness, it also features paddle shifters. Spiralling down some of the twisty back roads north of Nice, pulling back on a paddle brought the desired engine braking and a rather snappy snarl as the box shifted. The sound served to intensify the sense of sportiness.

    The up-level 3.6L V6 engine, which works in conjunction with VW’s Tiptronic automatic transmission, produces 280 horsepower and 265 pound-feet of torque. It is more responsive and brings a tidy zero-to-100-km/h run of 5.4 seconds. This all-dancing model (there are no options, although there will be an R-Line version down the road) also features Volkswagen’s 4Motion all-wheel-drive system. Using an advanced Haldex system means there is no delay between the need and delivery of all-wheel control. The secret lies in an electric pump that supplies the hydraulic pressure used by the transfer clutch. This means the system is proactive because there is no need for wheel slip to initiate the torque transfer. In the end, it leaves the driver unaware of its action, which is as it should be.

    I also drove the new CC equipped with VW’s delightful 140-hp 2.0L turbodiesel. It would make, as far as I am concerned, a very welcome addition. Hopefully, Volkswagen Canada will entertain adding it to the lineup. It should be a no-brainer given that upward of 40% of all Jetta sales are TDIs.

    On the subject of bringing the CC to Canada, the Europeans have the luxury of a driver-adjustable suspension. While the fixed-rate sport suspension that’s coming to Canada works nicely, the ability to select one of three modes makes a big difference to the overall driving experience. The Comfort mode is cushy without allowing the body to roll its way through a corner, while the Sport setting is noticeably firmer (Normal switches between the two according to the urgency of the drive). When in Sport, the CC feels much sharper in its response, which really does add to its sporty appeal.

    Pricing for the 2013 CC has yet to be announced officially; however, expect a modest hike that will be more than offset by the increased content. The CC hits dealer showrooms in March, with the Highline V6 arriving a little later in the year.


    9:00 am on January 18, 2012