USED & NEW CARS AUTO PARTS INFORMATION 2007 2008 ONLINE - FIND CHEAP AUTO PARTS

Toyota claims the xB is “all about attitude”. Roger that. Anyone willing to drive a van that causes children to point and laugh-- and let’s be clear about this: the kids are laughing AT the xB, not WITH it—needs a bullet-proof ‘tude. Maybe that’s why Toyota markets the xB under its youth-oriented Scion brand: the company reckons that only the arrogance of youth could protect an xB owner from the constant snorts of derision garnered by this, this, thing. And yet…

At that price, pistonheads would be forgiven for thinking that the xB must be an empty style statement: a slow, uncomfortable and nasty-handling tin-can, sold solely on the basis of its eccentricity and much advertised customizability. Nope. The xB is a complete package, offering more-than-merely-adequate poke, superb ergonomics and, gulp, fun.

Make sure no one’s looking, cover your eyes and enter the belly of the beastie. The windscreen is widescreen. The driving position elevated. The dinner plate-sized speedo sits on the top tier of the dash, with an inset rev counter and fuel gauge. The idiot lights, clock and odometer cluster nearby. The radio and rotary climate controls occupy the center pod. The window buttons, indicator stalk and lights are right where they should be. And that’s it. What else do you need? Nothing. Put that in your iDrive and smoke it.

The xB attempts to surmount its flying brick aerodynamics with a 1.5-liter four-cylinder engine. Toyota has blessed the xB’s mini motor with double-overhead cams, 16 valves, variable valve timing, multi-port fuel injection, the works. Although the autobox variant ambles from 0 to 60mph in 10.6 seconds, it feels significantly faster. Yes, overtaking requires more forward planning than a military invasion. Sure, highway onramps demand perfect timing and every single one of the xB’s 108 horses. But around town, the unrelentingly angular Scion is a seriously willing, nippy little machine.

The xB’s brakes are another pleasant surprise. Again, the numbers aren’t particularly impressive. Car and Driver reports that the front disc, rear drum set-up can haul the xB from 70mph to rest in 200 feet. At lesser speeds, in the midst of urban conflict, you can give the xB’s brakes a proper pasting, confident that the [standard] ABS and traction control system will help prevent a blizzard of insurance paper work. The pedal feel is not bad, you know, considering.

Considering what? That the xB is more of a fashion statement than transportation? Well it ain’t necessarily so. Despite Toyota’s clever ad campaigns aimed at style-conscious early adopters, old fogies are buying the van in droves. In fact, 51% of xB buyers are over 35. And why not? The xB is an excellent steer that offers utility, reliability and spectacular value for money. Maybe the key to understanding/living with/appreciating the xB’s quirky appearance is to be old enough not to give a damn.

Curb Weight: 2508lbs.
Engine: 4-cylinder
Engine Type: aluminum block and head
Horsepower: 108hp @ 6000rpms
Torque: 105ft.lbs @ 4200rpms
Drive type: front wheel drive
0 to 60: 10.6 secs.
60 to 0: NA
Quarter Mile: NA

In a way, it was. Both Xs are based on Toyota Echo mechanicals; the tC is based on the stunningly ugly European-market Avensis (imagine a Camry wearing a poorly-fitting Passat costume). Parent Toyota’s attempt to make the tC look like part of the Scion family is half-hearted at best. The rear has more than a bit of Volvo about it, while the side suffers from a touch of the TT’s. Only the tC’s front end seems vaguely familial. Put the threesome together and it’s clear which children Toyota favors: the little cute ones.

Still, everyone who saw my test tC raved about the styling. Its dimensions are certainly spot-on; the tC offers the speed-oriented driver an alluring size and stance. And I’m happy to admit that it’s a good-looking little car in a budget sort of way— but will you remember what it looks five minutes after you turn away? Wait; let me look at the picture again. Maybe not.

Inside, the tC is even less Scionly. The traditional-looking gauges are traditionally mounted (the xA and xB have funky dials mounted in the center of the dash; perhaps they move left when the cars hit puberty). Goofy lights are kept to a minimum. The tC shares the family’s wikkid sound system, designed to knock low-flying Cessnas out of nearby airspace. The center stack may look like it’s made of the same metal-effect plastic used for Build Your Own Robot kits, but the controls are ergonomically sound. In all, it’s a comfortable, practical place to spend some quality drive time.

To get you up-to-speed, the Scion tC uses a 160hp 2.4 liter four-cylinder engine swiped from the Toyota Camry. Unfortunately, Scion’s engineers forgot to tweak the engine’s fun critical VVT (Variable Valve Technology) for a burst of high-rpm power. By leaving the Camry’s fattened bottom end intact, the tC is powerful enough to escape the xX mystique, but ditchwater dull. It lacks even a taste of the free-revving excitement of its properly fettled, slightly more powerful Celica GT-S sibling.

There’s another way to reach the same conclusion: throw the front-wheel-drive tC into a corner. You’ll immediately discover that Scion doesn’t expect you to know the difference between good grip and good handling. The all-season Pirellis wrapped around the tC’s optional 18” Enkeis provide less feedback than a 20-watt guitar amp. Understeer arrives without so much as ringing the doorbell. Safe, yes. Fun, no

Curb Weight: 2905 lbs.
Engine: 2.4 liter inline four
Engine Type: VVT
Horsepower: 160 @ 6000 rpm
Torque: 163 @ 4200 rpm
Drive type: FWD
0 to 60: 7.5 secs.
60 to 0: 125 feet
1/4 Mile: 15.7 secs. @ 88 mph

Sciontologists are scary people. Who else would re-package a Toyota Echo and sell it to American twenty-somethings? We’re talking about a Japanese sub-compact with all the edgy excitement of a five-year-old Readers’ Digest (large print edition). You couldn’t imagine a more cynical marketing ploy. Still, props to Toyota for having the stones to foist the “new money for old rope” routine on the world’s most style critical audience.

Once inside, the centrally mounted instrument pod continues the aesthetic rebellion. This unsafe alternative to traditional ergonomics makes the helmspot as blank as a bumper car, and reflects the brand’s skewed priorities: function follows market research. The xA’s audio system, complete with 10-color display and built-in distortion , also tries to convince Sciontists that they’re rebels without a platinum AMEX, rather than sensible car buyers.

What could be more sensible than a small Toyota? The xA has room for five [slim] adults, gets over thirty mpg, comes with a three-year, 36k mile warranty; pollutes the planet less than a herd of polled Herefords and costs no more than a decent home entertainment system ($13k). Although no sub-compact makes sense from a safety point-of-view, the xA offers surprising survivability for one so small. Scion brand managers will hate me for saying so, but the xA is xActly the kind of car an elderly person on a fixed income would enjoy.

Maybe “enjoy” isn’t the right word. The xA is powered by the Echo’s 1.5-liter in-line 4-cylinder engine. As you’d expect, Toyota’s engineers have done everything they can to give the Echo/xA passable (if not passing) power: double-overhead cams, 16 valves, variable valve timing and multi-port electronic fuel injection. As you’d expect, the result is still Slow and Serious. Zero to 60 takes 10.7 seconds, with the quarter mile appearing in 17.4 seconds. Spirited it ain’t.

And avoid potholes. The xA’s ride is surprising civilized-- until it isn’t. The moment you encounter a surface imperfection, it’s as if someone hit the car with a large mallet. Clearly, someone at Toyota figured that the youth of America can’t tell the difference between the acceptable harshness of a sports-tuned suspension and the rough-riding character of a comfort-biased chassis with the comfort removed.

At relatively slow (sensible?) speeds, the xA’s low curb weight and stiffened suspension deliver admirable poise through the turns. Combined with a user-friendly power-assisted rack and pinion steering system, the set-up is responsive enough to embolden a young driver’s reckless nature. Uh-oh. Spank the xA and you’re headed straight to Hell in a hand basket. The steering loses all precision, the drum brakes fade and the torsion beam suspension gives up. Push it that little bit too far and terminal understeer will slide you across the road like a fallen figure skater heading for the boards.

In fact, Scion's youth orientation is fatally flawed. When it comes to selling to hipsters, the moment you win, you lose. Brands like Nike and Adidas circumvent the exclusivity vs. mass market problem by inventing new shoes and sports apparel on an hourly basis. Car manufacturers can’t use the same template, no matter how many after-market parts they devise. But they CAN create a fundamentally desirable car that attracts a wide range of buyers. Strangely enough, that’s a perfect description of the dull but worthy Scion xA.

Curb Weight: 2350lbs. [as tested]
Engine: 1.5-liter four-cylinder
Engine Type: DOHC 16-valve
Horsepower: 108hp @ 6000rpm
Torque: 105ft.-lbs. @ 4200rpm
Drive type: front wheel drive
0 to 60: 10.7 secs.
60 to 0: 124 feet
1/4 Mile: 17.4 secs

Five grand. Depending on options, incentives and fire sales, that's the difference between the cost of a Saab 9-2X Aero and a Subaru WRX Sport Wagon. Underneath, there's not much in it: same platform, same bag of tricks. No wonder auto industry wags have taken to calling the Saab 9-2X Aero the "Saabaru.” Now that GM has sold its share of the Japanese automaker and relocated Saab's badge-engineering department to Opel’s German digs, the time has come to ask a simple question: Why God, why?

The Aero's exterior offers the best justification for its existence. The WRX has always been a visually challenging automobile. Not to belabor the point: the '06 WRX Sport Wagon refresh is still ucking fugly. Thanks to its nose graft, the Saab 9-2x Aero is a far more handsome sled than its Japanese half-sister. As Saab proved with its brand-stretching Trailblazer into 9-7X trick, their house schnoz gives even the most awkward beast a handsome, vaguely European vibe. Although the Aero’s C-pillar is as Swedish as unagi, at least Saab removed the Scooby's roof rails, making the Aero seem lower and sleeker, and added some black cladding around the exhaust, slimming the bulbous butt. If only they'd taken a blowtorch to those tortured side sills…

Saab’s minimalist makeover extends to the engine room. Displacement grows from 2.0 to 2.5 liters. Although peak power jumps by three-- count 'em three-- horses, there are eighteen more foot pounds of entirely useful torque on tap. The newfound grunt transforms the wagon's fifth cog into a genuine passing gear. Equally important, it helps minimize the turbo lag that bedevils the WRX; Aero drivers can make it from stop sign to stop sign without multiple sidetrips to the car's redline. The Aero's helm is also blessed with added heft, while the brakes get extra bite. Unfortunately, the Aero's ride quality is just as cruel and unusual as the WRX's, and wind noise over 80 remains on the wrong side of tolerable (though the Aero’s optional subwoofer soon fixes that).

Aye, there's the rub my canine companion. The 9-2X is an excellent set of wheels if you enjoy driving fast, turning fast, stopping fast and hauling stuff, fast. But for 5G’s less, you can buy a Subaru WRX Sports Wagon and spend the five large at your friendly neighborhood Subaru tuning shop. You'd emerge with 450 hp at the wheels, a sick-ass set of Brembo brakes and some embarrassing decals. Plus, there's nothing particularly Saab about this Saab. Where's the quirk? Why aren't the keys next to your rump? Why bother?

General Motors would have done its customers a better service if they'd given the WRX platform to Pontiac or Chevrolet and undercut the Subaru's price-- especially as neither of those divisions has produced a truly compelling sedan/sports wagon in the last forty years. Instead, the General copied Jaguar's ill-fated Mondeo to X-Type strategy and moved the WRX "upscale." Oh well. Better luck next time, mein Saab. Meanwhile, the Saab 9-2x Aero is yet more proof that badge engineering is a shortcut to nowhere.

Curb Weight: 3252 lbs.
Engine: 2.5-liter turbocharged and intercooled flat-4
Horsepower: 230hp @ 5,600rpm
Torque: 235 ft.-lbs. @ 3600pm
Drive Type: AWD
0 to 60: 6.1 secs.
1/4 Mile: 14.3 sec @ 96 mph
Price as Tested: $30,320
Top Speed: 145 mph [limited]
Towing Capacity: NA
MPG: 20 / 26

SoCal drivers need an all-weather automobile like tacos need herring. Although a Volvo wagon was the left-wing equivalent of a Ford F250 and a Saab was a cap and gown on wheels, speed-crazed Angelinos found Nordic transportation about as exciting as farm machinery. Then Ford bought Volvo and GM scarfed Saab. Suddenly, performance, handling and luxury were piled onto the Smorgasbord. To freshen-up its range, GM instructed Saab to reengineer an Opel Vectra and call it a 9-3. In this guise, the new Saab 9 - 3 Aero joins German rides in the land of palm trees and lip-injections. Perhaps the General was on to something…

Saab’s decision to ditch their traditional hatchback for a three-box sedan raises immediate and uncomfortable questions about the intersection of corporate ownership and brand identity. The Aero attempts to distract the faithful with a rear that looks like a hatch (but isn’t) and sporting cues. The Jay Leno chin spoiler certainly grabs your attention, and the dual pipes poking out from the blackened derriere make all the right noises. But the 9-3 is too narrow for such deep cladding and there’s an excellent chance parking lot rampage will hammer the low-slung ground effects. The Aero’s profile is its best viewing angle, projecting European rakishness. Even if Saab newcomers don't catch a Trollhattan vibe, at least they'll know they’re not in Kansas anymore.

The cabin’s color scheme is Darth Vader gets creamed. The faux-chrome inserts adorning the Aero’s helm and the rabbit hutch-style digital display poking-out from under the windscreen prove that some of Saab’s quirkiness has escaped the corporate axe. Needless to say, the Aero’s ignition is between the seats, just like Sven's old tractor. However, why are the window rockers near the window? That's sensible, not Saab. The rest of the Aero’s ergonomics are fundamentally sound if excessive; over 50 buttons litter the dash. More worryingly, down market GM parts binnage abounds. A handbrake in a $40k car shouldn't feel like little Jimmy's plastic light saber.

Boot the gas and the Aero’s 250hp 2.8 liter turbo six looks both ways before crossing the street. A quick glance at the boost gauge indicates turbo lag is no longer the Saab driver’s nemesis; a twin-scroll turbocharger fed by two exhaust ducts (one from each cylinder bank) ensures progressive boost. The sluggishness is a simple matter of rotten gearing. Once the rpm count crests 3000, the Deutsche Swede starts to get a serious move on. The sprint from zero to sixty takes a respectable 6.4 seconds, and there’s plenty of passing power in the top end of the top gears. Better yet, despite channeling 258 ft-lbs. of torque through 17” front wheels, the Aero’s nose stays stable and planted, even at full-stomp.

Like most Euro sleds, the Aero offers F1 wannabes pseudo-paddle shifts via wheel-mounted thumb-flickers. Unfortunately, ironically, Saab positioned the buttons at the 9 and 3 positions; putting classically trained Happy Handers (10 and two position) at a distinct disadvantage. Or not. The actuators are cheap, nasty little buggers. And, like most manual-autos, the shifts are of the light-a-fuse-and-wait variety. Spirited drivers will play around for all of 30 seconds before returning ratio control to the computer.

Saab's 9-3 Aero is a fine car: it fails in no serious way and makes short work of long journeys. But it’s a machine devoid of meaningful dynamic personality. The Aero’s target market-- commuting enthusiasts-- will know there are plenty of “real” German sports sedans at the same price point. They’ll also realize that Saab has lost more than a touch of their odd-ball, Arctic Circle values. Although GM is now committed to Saab’s Opelization, they’d do well to remember that those who fail to learn from history are condemned to repeat it. In Saab's case, that’s probably not such a bad idea.

Curb Weight: 3285 lbs.
Engine: 2.8 liter Turbo V6 DOHC
Horsepower: 250 hp @ 5500 rpm
Torque: 258 lbs-ft @ 2000 rpm
Drive Type: front wheel drive
0 to 60: 6.4 secs.
1/4 Mile: NA
Price as Tested: $37,600
Top Speed: NA
Towing Capacity: NA
MPG: 17 / 28

Bristol is one of Britain’s most venerated carmakers. For over thirty-five years, Brits “in the know” have considered the obscure automaker’s products to be the embodiment of English hand built quality and understated exclusivity. Unfortunately, motoring journalists need not apply. In fact, Bristol actively discourages any sort of publicity for its current cars. A test drive is “out of the question”.

It’s a story that involves some truly Dickensian characters: quick-witted, long-suffering mechanics labouring in dark garages; a short-tempered multi-millionaire who believes that anyone who can’t afford a Bristol is in no position to judge it; a motoring journalist whose florid prose poems to the marque are proof positive that love is blind.

“What are the two things that can be seen from outer space?” the owner asked rhetorically. “The Great Wall of China and the panel gaps of a Bristol.” True enough, despite the fact that this particular Blenheim had recently enjoyed a body-off restoration-- to eliminate rot. Which was discovered after the car’s paint had cracked (necessitating a total re-spray). Whereupon the owner’s mechanics addressed a veritable laundry list of mechanical ailments: inoperative air conditioning, “inappropriate” shock absorbers, a failed exhaust system, two blown window motors, axle whine, insufficient engine cooling and more.

This tragic tale of mechanical malfeasance was easily eclipsed by the horror lurking inside the Blenheim’s cabin. To call the combination of wood, cheap rocker switches, tiny mirror controls, gigantic air conditioner, fiddly Japanese stereo and seemingly random assortment of switches, buttons and knobs “unattractive” would be like calling a drag racer “quick off the mark”. The Blenheim’s interior is such a hideous concoction of styles and textures the snooty millionaire mentioned above felt compelled to redesign and rewire the entire dash.

Once underway, the much-repaired Blenheim handled better than you’d expect-- for a car whose chassis dates back to 1946. At the time, it must have been a revelation. By today’s standards, Group A rental cars offer better ride and road-holding. As for power, the 5.9-liter V8 felt decidedly reluctant.

Curb Weight: 3870 lbs.
Engine: V8
Engine Type: 5.9-liter
Horsepower: NA
Torque: NA
Drive type: RWD
0 to 60: 6.3 secs. [claimed]
60 to 0: NA
1/4 Mile: NA

Not to put too fine a point on it, Horacio’s 7.3-liter time machine blasts from 0 – 60mph in 3.6 seconds, and on to an astonishing (if estimated) 210mph. At the same time, it can trundle around town like a top-spec Mercedes luxobarge. But why walk when you can fly? With 553ft.-lbs. of torque underfoot, all six gears offer an open invitation to low earth orbit. Resisting the need for speed requires the kind of monumental self-control best known to banned drivers.

Unlike its supercar predecessors, the Zonda isn’t merely a straight-line speed queen. It’s also a blindingly quick and competent corner craver. No matter how you approach a bend, no matter what you do with the pedals or steering wheel in the curved bit, the Zonda C12S just goes ‘round. Too fast in? Brake, turn, go. Slow in, full blast out? And away we go. Reverse camber 180-degree uphill switchback on broken pavement? This way sir. If you can imagine driving a 555hp go-cart with all the poise and self-assurance of a Porsche Carrera 4, you can imagine caning a Zonda.

Mechanically, there's nothing revolutionary on offer; the Zonda is a super-wide rear-wheel-driver with a double wishbone suspension, a big engine and Brembo brakes. The car’s faultless handling is down to balance, thrust and weight-- or lack thereof. Credit the carbon fiber construction. From its monocoque chassis to the windshield wiper mounts, the Zonda is the material’s meisterwerk: a fantastically rigid car that’s a full thousand pounds lighter than the similarly explosive Lamborghini Murcielago. Flinging the featherweight Zonda around feels like jogging in a Zegna suit.

If the Zonda’s exterior lacks the Enzo’s sex appeal, the Carrera GT’s restrained minimalism or the SLR’s resemblance to a normal road car, at least its pod-like interior is the most comfortable. The Zonda’s cabin cossets the driver with hand-stitched leather, perfectly woven carbon fiber and faultless ergonomics. Again, there are slightly jarring design elements: the toggle switches are out of proportion to the rest of the switchgear, and the dash-mounted ventilation periscopes are more practical than attractive. But it’s still a fine place to while away the hours.

Curb Weight: 2976 lbs
Engine: Mercedes AMG V12
Engine Type: 7.3-liter
Horsepower: 550 bhp @ 5500 rpm
Torque: 553.2 ft lbs @ 4100 rpm
Drive type: RWD
0 to 60: 3.6 secs.
60 to 0: NA
1/4 Mile: 12 secs.

Evolution is a strange thing. You start with a single cell animal, wait a couple billion years and end up with Eminem. By the same token, you start with a rough and ready off-roader, wait thirty-four years, and end up with a luxury car on stilts. Evolution is not a good thing or a bad thing; it’s just a thing. But the question remains: is the Range Rover fit enough to survive in an automotive environment teeming with first class competition?

The moment you heave yourself aboard the Range Rover, the British-built SUV asserts its exclusivity. The RR rejects the usual luxury car sports seat posturing in favour of a driver’s throne, complete with leather arm rest. The view through the all-but-vertical windscreen reinforces the imperious vibe. You sit up high, master of all you survey - including about an acre of bonnet stretched out beneath you like the playing fields of Eton.

Of course an off-roader this epic requires a gi-normous engine. The Range Rover’s 32-valve, 4.4-litre V8 cranks out 282hp. Equally impressive, the powerplant unleashes a torrent of torque: 325ft. lbs. at a leisurely 3600rpms. Feel that? You will when you put your foot down. The engine bellows, the rear end squats and the Range Rover just plumb takes off. This stately home on wheels whooshes from zero to sixty in nine seconds, cruises comfortably at the ton and responds enthusiastically to most throttle inputs without resorting to kickdown.

Besides, real luxury cars are all about wafting. While the Range Rover is a veritable flying brick, it lacks the reassuring (if limited) driving dynamics of a similarly priced, equally sumptuous, spatially equivalent BMW 745iL or Audi A8L. Carve through a corner in one of those bad boys, and the machine will gently remind you that you’re driving something titanic that prefers not to be hustled. Do the same in a Range Rover and the wake-up call is not so gentle. The sudden arrival of tippy-over trouble makes it difficult to drive a Range Rover in that luxury car auto-pilot psycho-bubble kinda way.

Curb Weight: 5379 lbs
Engine: 4.4 liter
Engine Type: V6
Horsepower: 282
Torque: 325 lbs ft
Drive type: AWD
0 to 60: 9 seconds
60 to 0: n/a
Quarter Mile: n/a

There comes a point in every enthusiast’s life when it’s time to slow down-- at least until some of the penalty points on their license expire. To avoid a complete loss of personal mobility, hamstrung throttle jockeys often find themselves transitioning into a slower vehicle. Not being attuned to The Ways of the Sloth, these once and future speed demons usually slide into some po-faced laggard. Bad move. The miserable car nut simply ends up thrashing the horseless carriage until it reaches extralegal velocities. If you have to go slow, there's only one way to go: the Land Rover LR3.

The LR3's ability to inflict stately progress on unsuspecting hooligans stems from Land Rover’s “integrated body-frame”. This unique steel and aluminum platform combines the strength of a traditional ladder frame chassis with the rigidity of a hi-tech monocoque. It also weighs a bloody ton. Make that THREE tons. Even with a 4.4-liter, 300hp V8 chuntering away under the bonnet, the highly gravitational LR3 is significantly less than swift. The fact that it's shaped like a Sub-Zero refrigerator certainly doesn’t help matters, but contemplating the LR3's aerodynamic deficiencies is like worrying about putting a teaspoon of sugar into your coffee after annihilating a piece of cheesecake.

Prognosis: off-road nirvana. The heavyweight LR3 is robust enough to transform an Oregonian survivalist into a weekend commuter. The SUV’s four-wheel-drive system (complete with four-wheel traction control) is a boat anchor for the sporting-minded driver, but it’s utterly effective over slippery surfaces. When it comes to the genuine rough stuff, the LR3 boasts the kind of approach and departure angles that would terrify an aircraft carrier pilot. It’s also equipped with enough traction, suspension, gearbox, braking and GPS gizmology to keep an airborne navigator occupied for a week.

Speed freaks would probably prefer to give up their collection of widescreen TV's than consider helming a beast as fundamentally ponderous as the Land Rover LR3. In this they're wrong. Not only is the LR3 an acceptable form of automotive intervention for those who need it, but it also provides some the best four-wheeled feel-good factor money can buy. Of course, this is the worst of all possible times for Land Rover to be producing a gas-guzzling SUV like the LR3. Which means it's the best of all possible times to purchase one: a buyer’s market, like none before. Enthusiasts would be well-advised to strike now, while their license is hot.

Curb Weight: 5686 lbs.
Engine: 4.4-liter V-8, aluminum block and heads
Horsepower: 300 hp @ 5500 rpm
Torque: 315 ft-lbs. @ 4000 rpm
Drive Type: AWD
0 to 60: 8.2 secs.
1/4 Mile: 16.5 sec @ 85 mph
Price as Tested: $52,795
Top Speed: 121 mph (governor limited)

The Range Rover Sport arrived just as Britain's Parliament banned fox hunting. Call it fortuitous happenstance. At the precise moment Britain’s shotgun-wielding aristocrats lost their main motivation for chasing each other over hill and dale, the Ford subsidiary came plying more on-road aggression. If these frustrated followers of British blood sports looked upon the new Landie Sport as an opportunity to blow off a little steam in less mucky surrounds, it’s a goal they share with America’s wealthier PTA MILFs. So, does the Sport have what it takes to get the blood pumping for aristocrats on both sides of the Pond?

Inside, there's plenty of timber and hides to remind urban hunter/gatherer types of pastoral pastimes, even when trundling about city centers. Equipped with Rover's must-have luxury package ($3k, my liege), silken cherry wood fillets grace the doors, dash and center console, lightening what would otherwise be a dour exercise in ebony. The main stack is capped with a touchscreen and carpeted in more buttonry than all the hunting jackets in Scarteen. There's a phone pad, switches for dual-zone HVAC supervision, seat heaters, parking distance control, navigation, and controls for the sublime harmon/kardon surround stereo. The list of electronic creature comforts is suitably comprehensive, but activating and tweaking any given feature remains as counter-intuitive as cricket, voice activation or no.

The controls for the Sport’s off-road prowess lie adjacent a small powered cooler (perfect for hunters' flasks of Glenfiddich, vials of deer piss, etc.), nestling underneath Ye Olde Screw-Type Armrests. Owners can manipulate their station in life via the air-suspension rocker switch, or muck about with the Terrain Response's Fisher Price-style controller, girding the beast for whatever topography lies ahead. If it’s gravel, ice, precipitous inclines, mud-- it’s strictly press and play.

Turn a wheel in anger, and the Sport’s steering is as vague as shoulder shrug (largely due to 19" M+S-rated Goodyears). Put your posse in the back, throw the Sport into a corner and you’ll be rolling with the homies, big tyme. The [optional] active anti-sway bars would help matters, but it bears repeating: the Sport isn't as involving on road as it could be, or should be. At least the binders are up to snuff, hauling the Sport back from the brink without hesitation or complaint.

Curb Weight: 5468 lbs.
Engine: 4.4 Liter V8 DOHC
Horsepower: 300hp @ 5500 rpm
Torque: 315 lb-ft @ 4000 rpm
Drive Type: four wheel drive
0 to 60: 8.3 secs.
1/4 Mile: 16.4 secs. @ 85 mph
Price as Tested: $63,550
Top Speed: 130 mph (limited)
Towing Capacity: 7716 lbs
MPG: 14 / 19

The Lexus GX470 is a poster child for SUV haters: huge exterior, cramped interior, hippo handling and mileage figures so low they make an M1 tank look frugal. For those who care about such things, the fact that the GX470 qualifies as an Ultra-Low Emissions Vehicle doesn’t alter its planet-killing profile. For those who couldn’t care less, the GX470 offers at least one good reason to piss off your PC neighbors (providing that’s not enough reason in and of itself): off road prowess.

The GX470 is a fantastically capable four-by-four. It sports all the structural strength and traction control doo-dads you need to trammel the road less traveled. Hill Assist Control stops the SUV from sliding backwards on steep inclines. Downhill Assist Control modulates engine and wheel braking to avoid nose-diving in the opposite direction. And if that’s not enough to help you boldly go where TV ads have gone before, the GX470 also has full-time all-wheel-drive, a limited slip diff, rear air suspension and enough ground clearance to mount a MINI.

The GX470 also makes a case for itself as a luxury car on stilts-- although not one that leads to acquittal. While the Japanese SUV offers the usual range of luxury car gizmology-- voice activated sat nav, Bluetooth, rear seat DVD, etc.-- you have to re-heat your Amex for the good bits and there’s no gee-whiz killer app that makes you glad to be living the Lexus lifestyle. An Acura MDX provides a more decadent techno-feast.

The 470’s deficiencies are more than skin deep. Mind you, there’s nothing wrong with its engine or engineering. The SUV's 4.7-liter V8 is a magnificent powerplant, smooth when you want it, hard-charging when you need it. The 470 is also perfectly screwed together, ridiculously quiet at cruising speeds and absurdly easy to steer and brake. No, the problem that keeps the GX470 from being a “true” Lexus is its ride quality, or lack thereof.

The GX470 weighs 4871lbs. That’s far too much heft to be hauling around for such cramped accommodations. Three adults would find the "mid-sized" SUV's middle seats far too intimate for long journeys, while the Geneva Convention prohibits anyone over the age of 16 from inhabiting the 470’s rear row. If space is the ultimate luxury, the Lexus GX470 is the ante-penultimate luxury SUV.

Curb Weight: 4871lbs.
Engine: 4.7-liter V8 DOHC 32-valve w/VVT-i
Horsepower: 270 hp @ 5,400 rpm
Torque: 330 lb-ft torque @ 3,400 rpm
Drive Type: AWD
0 to 60: 8.1 secs.
1/4 Mile: NA
Price as Tested: NA
Top Speed: NA

Visually, that’s a good thing. The new GS300 represents a bold and beautiful break from Lexus’ amorphous aesthetic. The four-door’s front end seems a bit of an 8-Series crib, and the rear is as confused as an absinthe drinker, but the GS300’s hunkered stance and nose-heavy proportions project a genuine sense of aggression. The rear pillars are especially wikkid, and the swageless sides add a statement of streamlined modernity. If ever a car promised to give the BMW 530i a decent run for the money-- and quite a lot of money it is too-- the GS300 is it.

Entering the GS is a disconcerting experience. Although sumptuous leather stimulates your smug satisfaction gland, little details jar. The gray matte plastic surrounding the touch screen and dials is an obvious and unwelcome refugee from the Toyota side of the tracks. While the GS’ central display and flanking buttonology are a clear and present arranger, the graphic display is pure Prius. The default screen’s real-time reminder of fuel consumption invites ridicule on every level. The instrument cluster is more garish-- and garishly lit-- than the Moulin Rouge, and about as elegant as its crocodile wrestler. Overall, the interior’s stuck on Pampercon 5.

A luxury car without a smooth, powerful, quiet, slick-shifting engine is like a bodybuilder without a syringe. By failing to provide a magic carpet ride, the GS300 is a drug-free bodybuilder with a hernia. Despite double-wishbones at the front and a trick multi-link set-up at the back, the GS crashes over major and minor surface imperfections with all the grace of a Toyota Avalon; maybe less. The GS300 makes a mockery of Lexus’ well-earned rep for imperious wafting-- to the point where you wonder if the model was designed as a secret torture device for America’s nouveaux riche.

The harsh ride probably reflects a focus group’s assertion that the sporty-looking GS should possess sporty handling dynamics. That it does. The original Lexus LS400 was such a wallowy luxobarge owners were heard to shout “Hard ‘a port!” through rotaries. The GS300’s handling is the exact opposite; Lexus’ revised sedan is so tied down that chauffeuring a professional dancer is the only way you’ll ever get body lean.

Curb Weight: 3536lbs.
Engine: 3.0-liter DOHC
Horsepower: 245hp @ 6200rpm
Torque: 230 ft,lbs. @ 6200rpm
Drive Type: rear wheel drive
0 to 60: 6.8 secs.
1/4 Mile: 15.4 secs
Price as Tested: $51,579
Top Speed: 130 mph (limited)
Towing Capacity: NA
MPG: 21/27

Jinking through traffic somewhere above the ton, it quickly became apparent that the Lexus IS 350 wasn’t the ideal car for the job. The erstwhile sports sedan bumped and jiggled over surface imperfections like a tied-down tunermobile. It rolled through directional transitions like a luxobarge, helming with unacceptable imprecision and unwelcome lean.

The IS 350’s 3.5-liter V6 holsters a surprising percentage of the mighty M3’s oomph (at a fraction of the price), but it’s no Bimmer beater. More specifically, maxxing-out a 3-Series anything is like gently drifting through the tunnel of love, compared to the baby Lexus' Autobahn of Doom stunt show. What upmarket motorist needs THAT kind of excitement? Indeed, why would anyone suffer the slings and arrows of outrageous ride and handling when any number of similarly priced cars offer a more pleasurable driving experience?

It’s all about the big O: ostentation. The IS 350 may be as manic as a radio controlled Kyosho Inferno, but the Lexus badge on its nose and tail tells the world that its driver is a man of wealth and taste. Thanks to a few meticulously-engineered models and exceptional dealer service, US public opinion has elevated Lexus to level-pegging with BMW, Mercedes, Audi, et al. Meanwhile, back where the rubber meets the road, Lexus has lost the plot. Although the company continues to manufacturer some superlative wafty coddlers, the IS 350 is yet another Lexus displaying a stunning lack of brand consistency. It’s no more a luxury car than a Mustang GT.

The IS 350’s cabin certainly isn’t the swish inner sanctum you’d expect at this price point. Although you can’t fault the pliability of the soft-touch plastics or the leather’s Velveetatude, close your eyes, press a button and you’ll swear you’re sheltering inside a top-spec Avalon. The sooner Lexus replicates Audi’s haptic hit squad, the better. And while they’re at it, the Japanese designers should L-finesse some of that lustrous wood onto the main fascia; the dark grey plastic surrounding the IS 350’s instruments and gauges is about as classy as a quilted toilet roll holder. Still, you get some aluminum paddle shift wings and a dead cool “engine start” button…

That hooks you up to one of the most mental motors made. It sure doesn’t sound like much-- a Pontiac Grand Am’s pushrod powerplant whines to mind-- but the Lexus’ V6 is ready to go anytime, every time, all the God damn time. With 306 horses underfoot, and a six-speed automatic gearbox that grabs the next gear like a two-year-old coveting her sister’s Nintendo DS, going fast is simply a matter of forgetting to go slow. Drop a couple of cogs via the paddles, plant your right foot, and the IS 350 will punch through the ether at a ferocious clip, belied by a dearth of engine vibration. Not to put too fine a point on it, this dog will hunt.

Curb Weight: 3527 lbs.
Engine: 3.5-liter, DOHC 24 valve, VVT-i
Horsepower: 306hp @ 6400 rpm
Torque: 277 ft.-lbs. @ 4800 rpm
Drive Type: rear wheel drive
0 to 60: 5.3 secs.
1/4 Mile: 14.2 secs,
Price as Tested: $35,440
Top Speed: 142 mph
Towing Capacity: NA
MPG: 21/28

Ironically, the RX 400h is not Lexus' most cohesive design. From head-on it resembles a baby elephant: all legs and a tiny, short body. From the side, the strangely kinked C-pillars and double quarter-windows are a self-conscious attempt to give the standard SUV box some sedan-like horizontality. The blacked-out rear roof spoiler proclaims sport, while the nanodetailed LED taillights say insect. The RX 400h’s aesthetic appeal resides in the details, like the gorgeously crafted adaptive headlights and backlit company emblems in all four doorsills. And, lest we forget, there’s the ultimate badge of honor: the little ‘h’ on the boot badge proclaiming your intention to use less fossil fuel, keep the globe cool and avoid red meat (providing there’s a suitable salad option).

The first thing you notice when you turn the RX 400h’s key is— silence. All the electrics are at attention, awaiting orders. The gasoline engine lays dormant. You select Drive, put your foot down and golf cart away-- without the slightest judder to rattle the clubs. At some point (approximately 25mph), internal combustion occurs and… you continue.

Which is what, exactly? As the official Lexus website admits, RX 400h drivers are best advised to avoid any unseemly mud plugging (“Batteries are no match for boulders”). Which still leaves the RX 400h with enough personalities to challenge Sybil’s therapist. Gas guilt? Ease up and enjoy double the mileage of virtually all your SUV driving peers. Feeling frisky? Whip all the assorted motors into one cohesive accelerative effort. Dinner at eight? Wash off the dirt and sashay in style. Boss dropping in for a meeting? Stack the rear cargo bay with business fireboxes. Surprise snowstorm? Keep on keeping on with all-wheel-drive and stability control (with snow tires ‘natch). Perfect day? Simply relax in the comfort and silence of your luxury whip. The RX 400h does it all, and does it well.

Curb Weight: 4365 lbs.
Engine: 3.3 liter V-6; three-phase AC permanent-magnet synchronous motor powered by 30 9.6-volt nickel-metal hydride batteries, front and rear
Horsepower: 268hp combined: 208 bhp @ 5600 rpm; 165 bhp @ 4500 rpm (front); 67 bhp @ 4610 rpm (rear)
Torque: 212 lb-ft @ 4400 rpm; 262 lb-ft @ 0–1500 rpm (front); 96 lb-ft @ 0–610 rpm (rear)
Drive Type: 4-wheel-drive system: part time with automatic rear electric-motor engagement
0 to 60: 6.9 secs.
1/4 Mile: 15.2 sec @ 93 mph
Price as Tested: $50,908
Top Speed: 112 mph [limited]
Towing Capacity: 3500 lbs.
MPG: 31 / 27

Its origins are unusual, but the Crossfire is a different kind of Chrysler for other reasons. It's Chrysler's smallest-ever model and first-ever sports car, and it pioneers the marque's return to rear-wheel drive. And, aside from the Plymouth-born Prowler, it's the first two-seat Chrysler since the ill-fated TC by Maserati (another transatlantic specialty model built in conjunction with a prestigious European automaker—the eerie similarities to this effort must have had the more superstitious members of the Crossfire team throwing salt over their shoulders).

While that Iacocca-era two-seat exotic looked an awful lot like a pedestrian LeBaron convertible, the Crossfire won't be confused with anything in the current lineup. Andrew Dyson led the team that transformed Eric Stoddard's show car into a production-ready reality. The front-end styling is obviously changed, but Dyson was otherwise pretty faithful to the concept considering he also had to widen the boattail rear and take eight inches out of the wheelbase. The new frontal appearance, the high bodysides and short greenhouse, and the pushed-forward front axle and pulled-back windshield are all themes that will be picked up by other Chryslers.

But even if every aspect of this design finds its way onto every other Chrysler, the Crossfire would still look unique because of its diminutive size. The wheelbase is only 94.5 inches, and both the front and rear overhangs are minimal. The wee dimensions are apparent inside as well. This is a true two-seater, without even vestigial rear seats. A high bulkhead immediately aft of the front seats precludes tossing anything behind them, and there's only 7.6 cubic feet of cargo space under the rear hatch. You're cocooned inside, with a high beltline rising toward the rear, a sloping roof, and a pinched view out the back. The center console is fairly large, but the cabin is wide enough not to feel confining. Tall drivers who need to push the seat far back may find the headliner too close, however.

The interior's SLK pieces are obvious, despite the Chrysler designers' restyling. Still, the Mercedes starting point gives the Crossfire hands down the best-quality interior of any Chrysler product in recent times. The switch-gear works flawlessly, the surfaces are attractive, and the silver trim brightens things up.

Chrysler's cute Crossfire coupe got off to a slow start in the U.S., but sales have picked up since DaimlerChrysler got real on the pricing and started incentivizing, to use the current jargon. It now outsells the Porsche Boxster and Audi TT combined, Chrysler execs are proud to point out. A convertible will no doubt help the car's appeal, as will the very sporty SRT-6 version that goes on sale this summer. The SRT-6, which is available as a coupe and roadster for - deep breath - $45,695 and $49,795 respectively, is billed as Chrysler's fastest ever car, with a top speed of 158 mph. It is also, as you can see from the dollar numbers, Chrysler's most expensive car ever.

The performance comes from an AMG supercharged version of the Crossfire's corporate Mercedes 3.2-liter, SOHC, 18-valve V-6 engine. Power goes up from 215 hp to 330 hp, with 310 pound-feet of torque. The engine is mated to a five-speed automatic transmission that has manu-matic actuation.

The SRT-6 shares an awful lot in common with the outgoing SLK32 AMG, other than just the engine and gearbox. The dual control arm front and multilink rear suspension are virtually identical, although they are tuned in this application, with firmer damping and much stiffer spring rates. (They have gone up from 303 pounds per inch front and 337 pounds per inch rear to 451 lb/in and 480 lb/in respectively on the coupe.) The brakes, too, have come in for attention, with vented discs all around (the stock car has solid rear rotors), bigger front discs, and dual piston calipers in place of single-piston items.

The upshot is a car with serious performance credentials. Chrysler claims 0 to 60 mph in about 5 seconds, 0-100-0 mph in less than 16 seconds, and 60 to 0 mph braking in about 115 feet. In terms of bang for your buck, the SRT-6 delivers, although it is far pricier than a 350Z and up there in rarefied BMW/Porsche/Mercedes territory.

Until this year, Chrysler offered three midsize cars bearing the Sebring name, much as Toyota offers a Camry trio—sedan, coupe, and convertible. Based on a different platform than the sedan and convertible, the coupe has been retired, reflecting the shift in the market away from two-door vehicles, among other manufacturing factors. The remaining Sebrings make incremental improvements for this year, with the standout news being the addition of a performance-oriented TSi sedan.

For 2006, the sedan comes in base, Touring, TSi, and upscale Limited forms. There are no fewer than four convertibles: base, GTC, Touring, and Limited. Four-cylinder and V-6 engines are on the menu for both body configurations.

In a conservative class, the gracefully aging Sebring sedan still looks classy, despite tracing its origins to the 1990s. In contrast, the convertible looks plainer, lacking the distinctive curved roof, dramatic rear pillar, and bold wheel arches.

Various Sebring trims are distinguished externally mainly by their wheels. All Sebring sedans except the TSi have 16-inch aluminum wheels; the top-of-the-line Limited has chrome-finished versions, while the TSi gets 17s. Strangely, the base convertible has only 15-inch wheels and tires. GTC, Touring, and Limited models have 16s, with the Limited sporting chrome embellishment. The TSi is the most visually interesting model, with a complete ground-effects package, decklid spoiler, three-inch exhaust tip, and special badging.

Base Sebring sedans and convertibles are reasonably well equipped, with air conditioning, power windows, and cruise control as standard. Things become confusing when progressing through the trim levels. The Touring version of the sedan has a satin silver instrument panel and electronic cruise control, but you need to move to the Limited or TSi models to get a full share of luxury features such as leather seats, a leather-wrapped steering wheel with audio controls, and an eight-way power driver’s seat.

The GTC convertible has a sportier interior than the base car, with bucket seats and a sport steering wheel. Touring has leather seats, a power driver’s seat, leather shift knob, and steering-wheel-mounted audio controls. The Limited is mildly uprated, with fancier leather and an Infinity speaker system for the stereo. As with the sedan, real California wood inserts, heated seats, and navigation can turn the car into a relatively luxurious piece.

The 300C was built for a drive-by shooter. Its narrow, high-set windows look more like gun slits than casements. Its gigantic “egg crate” prow projects a distinct air of physical menace. Slab sides, sharp creases and sheer bulk complete the “urban assault vehicle” design theme. Not to put too fine a point on it, what player wouldn’t want to roll up in a car with such stylish malevolence?

The C’s gang-banger demeanor may shock delicate sensibilities, but its appearance shouldn’t come as a surprise. African-Americans have long been the engine of US culture; the extension of their influence into the automotive arena is both logical and welcome. Drawing on hot rod and street culture, Haitian-born designer Ralph Gilles has introduced vitality to a sector stultified by the inexorable rise of the SUV. Older buyers won’t get it, but Gen Y will tell you straight up: the 300C is all that.

Props to Gilles. Props to Chrysler for letting the man do his thing. But what’s really amazing is that the 300C isn’t an empty style statement like the ridiculously under-engined Prowler or the minivan-in-drag PT Cruiser. It’s a complete package, with all the space, power and price it needs to win a wider audience.

Better yet, the C’s cavernous cabin continues the glorious Audification of US car interiors. Gilles’ crew has blended chrome, mock tortoise shell and leather to create an understated yet elegant chill-out room. The dash’s four central dials - complete with polished metal bezels, tapered needles and classic typography - are Breitling bling. The switchgear is tactile, functional and discreet. Taken as a whole, the 300C is a deeply funky neo-retro masterpiece.

Needless to say, the S and Z would crucify the C in a corner. Any corner. But hey, Chrysler’s HEMI-powered beast is a luxury leviathan, not a sports car. Nor could you call it a sports sedan. Truth be told, the C is a squealing pig around bends. Although its rear multi-link suspension was lifted from its German cousin, the 4150lbs. C has none of the E’s poise or flair through the twisties. Even worse, Chrysler’s engineers have de-tuned the system to produce the same sloppy, bouncy, squishy ride as a Lincoln Town car. It’s sick - and not in a good way. Strangely, the C’s remote control ride fails to smooth-away lumps and bumps; making it the worst of both worlds.

Curb Weight: 4140 lbs
Engine: 5.7-liter V-8
Engine Type: iron block and aluminum heads
Horsepower: 340 bhp @ 5000 rpm
Torque: 390 ft.-lbs. @ 4000 rpm
Drive type: RWD
0 to 60: 5.3 seconds
60 to 0: 184 ft
Quarter Mile: 13.9 sec @ 102 mph

You can now buy a four-door 425hp Chrysler 300C SRT-8 for a nickel under $40k. That’s a lot of numbers. And no matter how you look at it-- size, performance or style-- the 300C SRT-8 is a lot of car. So let’s take this road test thing nice and slow... Only we here at TTAC don’t do anything “nice”. And “slow” is not a word in the SRT-8’s vocabulary.

Straight to the brake pedal. We’ve traveled so far so fast we need to slow down RIGHT NOW, and hope that Chrysler's Street and Racing Technology (SRT) knows as much about brakes as they do about big-bore powerplants. Fo shizzle. When caning a 425hp car weighing 4160lbs., there’s no time to ponder the finer points of rotor size, “swept area”, ABS, etc. It’s strictly press and pray.

Muscle car aficionados know the drill. When you enter a sharp turn, throw the wheel hard over and floor it. As the rear tires spin and the back end drifts sideways, apply the appropriate amount of opposite lock with the steering wheel. Then ease off the gas, let the back end ease into line and keep on going. If it’s good enough for The General Lee, it’s good enough for the SRT.

Of course, Chrysler had to sacrifice a significant measure of the donor car’s ride comfort. And? The supremely-engined 300C SRT-8 is aimed at G-force junkies and serious stunters. They’d consider it a badge of honor if a pothole knocked a filling loose. Alternatively, you can dismiss a rough section of road by applying max power and dryquaplaning over irregularities.

Curb Weight: 4160lbs.
Engine: pushrod 16-valve V-8, iron block and aluminum heads, port fuel injection
Horsepower: 425 bhp @ 6200 rpm
Torque: 420 lb-ft @ 4800 rpm
Drive Type: rear wheel drive
0 to 60: 5.0 seconds
1/4 Mile: 13.4 sec @ 105 mph
Price as Tested: $41,689
Top Speed: 155 mph (electronically limited)

The Convertible’s dramatic styling gives it tremendous cruise-compliant curb appeal. The PT's sheet metal proclaims its idealized intentions without embarrassment or affectation. It's a shame the hood doesn’t stow flat; the baby-carriage back end violates the PT's vanitude. Luckily, the St. Louis arch bisecting the cabin draws the eye away from the rear, helping to maintain focus on the PT Cruiser Convertible's flowing lines.

The PT Cruiser Convertible’s upgraded interior doesn’t quite live up to the exterior spizzarkle. While the level of fit and finish is unassailable-- a remarkable achievement given the price point-- the all-important center stack has more than a whiff of rental car to it. The radio sets the tone; it’s a cheap-looking unit with a digital display harkening back to the entirely wrong era (the ’70’s). The wet-look plastic surrounding the instrument cluster and sheltering the passenger airbag is a feeble attempt to echo the painted metal dashboards of 50’s land yachts. The gauges themselves are typographically bland and slightly too small. Wherever you look, it’s quality over flair.

Which is just as well. The GT's 2.4-liter four-cylinder turbo brings new meaning to the word “overkill”. As soon as you crest 4000rpms in first or second gear, the front wheels start slip sliding away. Combine this with body flex and a bit of wheel hop and, well, let’s just say it’s best to let those 230 horses graze. Pistonheads are advised to buy the less powerful variant and chill.

Convertible GT
Curb Weight: 3458 lbs
Engine: 2.4-liter HO Turbo DOHC, 16-valve
Horsepower: 230hp @ 5100 rpm
Torque: 245ft-lb @ 2400 - 4500 rpm
Drive Type: front wheel drive
0 to 60: 7 seconds
1/4 Mile: 15.4 secs @ 92mph
Price as Tested: $30,285
Top Speed: 120 [limited]

The Pacifica is the original crossover, launched by Chrysler before sky high gas prices turbocharged the entire genre. The Pacifica combines the utility of a minivan (without the stigma of actually having to drive one), the raised seating position of an SUV (without getting dirty looks from drivers with “Proud To Be Vegan” bumper stickers) and the handling of a sedan (without the fuel efficiency). While it may not have everything it needs to roust suburban schleppers from their SUV’s, the station wagon stilts is still the original and best shot over the SUV's bow.

Pacifica ads promise a luxurious sedan-like interior. In a stark break with industry tradition, it delivers. The Pacifica’s cabin is simple and stylish; it's made from materials that wouldn’t seem out of place in a mid-level Mercedes. In case you’re not entirely convinced that a Chrysler can have class, the company's added a bit of technological whiz bang. In the flat world of navigation systems, the Pacifica’s oversized display screen-- sitting bang in the middle of the speedometer-- is an ergonomic triumph. It's too bad Chrysler’s sat nav software is easily disoriented and provides erroneous directions.

Chrysler teamed up with Infinity to create one of the world’s best and most complicated audio systems. It's a farrago of oddly shaped buttons, rockers, sliders and a big plastic knob. Underneath the CD-equipped head unit there’s… another CD player. The overall design is so ergonomically compromised that Chrysler just plain gave up and added two multi-function ICE-control buttons to the back of the steering wheel. Luckily, the helm-based switches offer a simple and effective alternative to the head unit’s RTFM Hell.

Curb Weight: 4444 lbs.
Engine: 3.5 liter SOHC V6
Horsepower: 250 hp @ 6400 rpm
Torque: 250 lb-ft @ 3950 rpm
Drive Type: front wheel drive
0 to 60: 9.7 seconds
1/4 Mile: 17.4 sec @ 81 mph
Price as Tested: $31,830
Top Speed: 114 mph

When Chrysler unveiled its PT Cruiser in 2001, it was hailed as a fun, versatile retro-mobile. While sales have remained relatively robust, virtually every automaker in the Cruiserweight class has introduced a new or reworked small wagon: the Toyota Matrix/ Pontiac Vibe twins, Mazda 3 and Chevrolet HHR (a.k.a. "Me-Too Cruiser") among them. Even the Cruiser’s parent company has introduced the genre-bending five-door Caliber. Despite the pig pile on PT, Daimler Chrysler has just given the Cruiser its first-ever refresh for 2006. Is this a case of a mortician doing a little touch-up work before closing the casket, or does the PT have longer legs than the fashion police led consumers to believe?

Inside, DCX has given the PT larger, chrome-ringed gauges, round air vents, an 'Oh Shit' towel-bar of a grab-handle and a revamped center stack capped with an analog clock. Our tester’s seats were a bit narrower than we recall, though wrapped in upscale cowhide and 'preferred suede' (the best euphemism for “fake leather” we’ve ever heard). Evidently looking to abandon its cheap n’ cheerful reputation, our PT arrived ladled with a bushel’s worth of options: power chairs with bun warmers, satellite radio, trip computer, the lot. Some of the Cruiser’s middling interior plastics have been retextured, but it's largely the same well-assembled, functional and characterful interior as before. Even if the PT hasn't gotten a Cribs-style makeover, its den is still a fun, funky place to chill, with peerless room, excellent sightlines and a charming, tongue-in-cheek aesthetic unavailable elsewhere at this price point (barring the MINI franchise).

The PT’s dynamic pitfall is its epic turning circle. While hardly an issue when lazing along the interstate, it's a remarkably tough sell in tight parking lots. We suspect it’s a packaging hurdle brought about by its pointed retro prow. However, given the its small footprint, it bears repeating: turning the PT round about its axis is a little... round about. Let's face it: the Cruiser has always romanced buyers with the curves of its fenders, not those upon which it travels. Yes, the Little Chrysler That Could remains flawed, but improbably enough, well... the kid stays in the picture.

Curb Weight: 3152 lbs.
Engine: 2.4-liter DOHC 16-valve turbo
Horsepower: 180 @ 5200rpm
Torque: 210 ft.-lbs. @ 2800 - 4000 rpm
Drive Type: front wheel drive
0 to 60: 8 secs. (est.)
1/4 Mile: 16 secs. (est)
Price as Tested: $23,590
Top Speed: NA
Towing Capacity: NA
MPG: 20 / 25

Despite the Escalade’s epic dimensions— six feet high and 16.5 feet long— its protection against the slings and bumpers of outrageous driving has nothing to do with the acres of sheet metal adorning its body-on-frame chassis. Like all SUV’s, the Escalade is a truck. It’s exempt from US automotive safety legislation, which mandates life-saving technology like passenger safety cells. Bottom line: when push comes to crash, you’re at least as safe in a medium-sized German saloon. If not more. Lest we forget, the Escalade’s high and mighty stance gives Caddy’s big rig a genetic tendency to fall over when things go seriously sideways.

Anyway, as any good SUV salesman would tell you, passive safety is for negative thinkers, losers and wimps. Out there on the mean streets of America’s smallest state, the name of the game is accident avoidance. See and be seen. Intimidation. In a world where drivers size you up like a lion eyeing a gazelle, little things count for a lot. Little things like the Escalade’s massive prow. Quite simply, the Escalade has the most aggressive face in the business. The Caddy’s multi-louvered nose has all the fascistic scale and sullen symmetry of an 18th century English prison. It issues a stern warning to territorial interlopers to “back off” or be crushed. Attached to the Escalade’s sumo superstructure, the front end is effective, pro-active protection against unwanted aggression.

Good news sports fans: the Escalade’s handling is awesome. Porsche drivers would dismiss its whipped cream steering and remote control chassis as automotive Novocain, but I’d like to see them drive a 911 through a crowded supermarket parking lot with two fingers while sipping a large iced coffee. At low speeds, the Escalade is as nimble as one of Fantasia’s dancing hippos. Drive thru or drive-by, the big beast is a pussycat on the pavement. As for the Escalade’s road manners in more “challenging” situations, well… the official Cadillac brochure claims the Escalade’s electronic road sensing suspension system combines “road isolation” with “enhanced control during emergency maneuvers”. In practice, there’s so much mass and so little feel that very few drivers could get themselves out of any real trouble, or make the Escalade do what car drivers tend to call “corner”.

Curb Weight: 5850 lbs
Engine: 6 liter
Engine Type: V8
Horsepower: 345
Torque: n/a
Drive type: n/a
0 to 60: n/a
60 to 0: n/a
Quarter Mile: n/a

Even a cursory glance at the CTS confirms that customer mortality has forced Cadillac into a major re-think. It looks nothing like Grandpa’s living room-on-wheels, or the front-wheel-drive, badge-engineered compact Caddies of yore. The CTS is all sharp creases, meeting at odd angles, in weird places. Like it or loathe it, the automotive origami looks sharp enough to draw blood. That said, the design suffers from Peter North Syndrome; once you abandon the head-on perspective, there’s nothing much to see.

The CTS’ minimalist interior represents another radical departure from the Chandelier School of Design. Zebrano tree growers may despair, but the cabin is no longer dominated by acres of wood polished to plasticity. The textured black plastic covering most major surfaces strikes the perfect balance between funereal and fun. All the displays - from the white-on-black speedometer to the gently glowing climate control pictograms - are equally somber, equally funky. Taken as a whole, the CTS’ interior displays a restrained, post-modern sensibility - right down to its bespoke typeface.

In short, provided you ante-up 12Gs for the optional 1SC Equipment Group and DVD Nav, you couldn’t ask for a more convivial atmosphere in which to listen to musical tales of snub nosed .44s, crack dealers and women paid for sexual services.

The 1SC package elevates the CTS’ bottom line to a little over $42k. At this price point, there’s nowhere for the CTS to hide; the financial damage places Caddy’s self-proclaimed “sports sedan” smack dab in the middle of BMW 330i territory. No surprise then that the 1SC upgrade includes a performance package - complete with monotube shocks, improved brake linings, Stabilitrak traction control and a 3.6 liter V6 engine with Variable Valve Timing.

Curb Weight: 3600 lbs
Engine: 3.6 Liter
Engine Type: V6
Horsepower: 255
Torque: 252 lbs ft
Drive type: rwd
0 to 60: 6.7 sec
60 to 0: n/a
Quarter Mile: n/a

Pistonheads believe cars have personality, character and yes, soul. Putting the pedal to the metal in a Cadillac CTS-V, it’s hard not to agree. The 5.7-liter powerplant bellows, the tires squirm and the V charges at the horizon with all the determination of an enraged bull heading for a matador’s cape. Redline Caddy’s 400-horse four-door and she’ll give you everything she’s got. And man, she’s got a lot. The V rockets from zero to sixty in 4.7 seconds and completes the ¼ mile in 13.1.

Thanks to its big-bore V8 and track-tuned handling, there are two ways to exploit the CTS-V’s talents. One: finesse the car through the twisties. Stay on the gas, position the car carefully and maintain momentum. Apply power as needed. Two: floor it and see what happens. A reasonably skilled driver can use the engine’s 395 ft. lbs. of torque to power in and out of trouble. Drivers favoring the second approach will be pleased to learn that even on its most invasive setting, the “Stabilitrak” nanny allows for some tasty tail sliding before cutting-in to save you from “embarrassment”.

The CTS-V is also slower than an M5. Call it axle tramp or wheel hop, but whenever you give the CTS-V’s go-pedal a proper pasting there’s a God-almighty clunk in the rear. For the crucial first second, the car struggles to get its power down. Even when the CTS-V’s electronics and mechanical linkages finally get things organized, the CTS-V lacks the oomph to catch up with the similarly-horsed M5. Not at 60, 70, 100 or beyond.

And then there’s steering feel, or lack thereof. While the M5’s recirculating ball steering dispenses automotive Prozac, the CTS-V’s power-assisted rack-and-pinion system was Novocained at birth. With 3.5 turns from lock-to-lock and nothing to tell you where you are in the turning process, you have to remember not to attack corners too aggressively, lest excessively sharp turn-in makes a complete mess of things. Again, blame Cadillac’s luxury bias.

Curb Weight: 3949 lbs
Engine: 5.7 liter
Engine Type: V8
Horsepower: 400
Torque: 395 lbs ft
Drive type: rwd
0 to 60: 5.2 seconds
60 to 0: (70) 165 ft
Quarter Mile: 13.7 at 107 mph

The STS’ interior also reflects the company’s sudden risk aversion. Props to Caddy for ditching the Deville’s interior excess: velour couches, nasty switches, excessive wood. But the attempt to crib Audi/Mercedes/BMW’s sumptuous minimalism has left the STS with a soul-ectomy. (It even smells like a doctor's waiting room.) You would have thought the brand’s success amongst the spinners and dubs set would’ve inspired them to try something wild: two-tone leather, Playstation display, built-in lead crystal decanter, signature scent, something wikkid. But no, the STS’ cabin feels like a pricey Pontiac.

On the positive side, the STS sits on a rear or [optional] all-wheel-drive platform. Caddy’s twenty year-plus digression into front drivers left the brand without a shred of credibility in an increasingly performance-oriented segment. While an STS helmsman would be ill-advised to attempt any tail-out action (think cabin cruiser in a big beam sea), the car is commendably responsive to driver input and command. By the same token, the steering and brakes are predictably numb, but perfectly effective for the job at hand (and foot).

The V8 version provides plenty of silky smooth shove. The STS’ 4.6-liter 320hp Northstar powerplant can propel Detroit’s latest luxury leviathan from zero to sixty miles-per-hour in a staggering six seconds. The V8 STS is also a determined passer, able to leap long trucks in a single bound. Unfortunately, the car’s drive-by-wire throttle was programmed by a non-coffee drinker; the moment you even breathe on the gas pedal, the STS takes off like a scalded cat (threatening many a scalded lap). And the autobox shows a disturbing reluctance to kick down at cruising speed.

Curb Weight: 4148
Engine: 4.5-liter V8
Engine Type: aluminum block and heads, VVT
Horsepower: 320 bhp @ 6400 rpm
Torque: 315 lb-ft @ 4400 rpm
Drive type: RWD (AWD available)
0 to 60: 6 secs.
60 to 0: NA
1/4 Mile: 14.6 sec @ 97 mph

Actually, there is. The world’s most compact 12-cylinder engine produces aural Prozac. Despite Bentley’s attempts to tune the exhaust note to suit the brand’s sporting aspirations, the GT’s engine has all the sonic sex appeal of a pixilated race car from a ‘70’s arcade game. It’s loud at idle, loud under load and… that’s it. Considering the company’s long tradition of stuffing big-block baritone V8’s into the engine bay, the variable decibel drone is a major disappointment.

Bentley’s new owners worked hard to imbue their muscle coupe with brand-specific styling cues (e.g. twin headlights of varying size). To my eyes, the overall design looks like a squished, angular version of an Aston Martin Vanquish. The GT’s shape, though vaguely British, lacks cohesion. In particular, the sharp creases on either side of the hood make the prow look as if it was formed by a Play-Do shape cutter.

Once inside, the olfactory sense overwhelms aesthetic sensibility. Every inch of the GT’s cabin that isn’t covered with piano-grade wood or satin finish aluminum or what was once Wilton carpet is slathered in perfectly-stitched, glove soft, dizzyingly fragrant leather.

From there, it’s straight back to the Fatherland. The GT’s main display screen and attendant buttons are lifted straight from the Phaeton. All the switches-- even the signature “organ stop” vent controls-- work with Germanic precision. And in case you missed the point, the words “Made in Germany” are written in large type at the base of the cigarette lighter.

Curb Weight: 5250 lbs.
Engine: 6.0 liter W12
Engine Type: Twin-turbocharged and intercooled DOHC 48-valve W-12, aluminum block and heads, port fuel injection
Horsepower: 552hp @ 6,100rpms
Torque: 479ft. lbs. @ 1600rpms
Drive type: four whee