With each revision since 1990, BMWs have become more like Lexus. Meanwhile, Lexus (some of them, anyway) have become more like BMWs. With the latest iterations, have the 5-Series and GS met somewhere in a muddled middle, or does each retain a distinct identity?

With the latest, “F10″ 5-Series, BMW softened the car’s lines, returning it at least halfway to the cleaner look of the E39. There’s nothing here to turn people off, but not much to turn them on, either. I personally prefer the tauter, more athletic appearance of the E60, despite its aesthetic excesses.

The first Lexus GS was designed by Giugiaro to be a Jaguar. But Jaguar didn’t want it, and Lexus did. [Update: a commenter notes that Italdesign has debunked this widespread belief. Though the world saw the Jaguar first, the firm designed the GS earlier.] The second GS’s more aggressive appearance was clearly an in-house effort. With both the third and latest generations of the car Lexus has claimed a new, distinctive design language (“L-Finesse” and “Waku Doki”), but each has nevertheless, like the second, appeared vaguely German. Viewed from the side in Luxury trim, the 2013 GS 350 looks much like a pudgier F10 5-Series, itself a pudgier E39. Medium red does not flatter the car.

Opt for the F-Sport (with a more aggressive fascia and gray 19-inch wheels) in silver, and the new GS looks much better.

Inside, the cars remain dissimilar. Though BMW interiors have become more artful over the years, their ambiance remains more businesslike, even severe. The GS’s interior looks and feels softer and more conventionally luxurious. One odd touch: a partially upholstered (in insufficiently convincing vinyl) instrument panel has padding in the areas farthest from the passengers. Done right, an upholstered instrument panel takes an interior up a notch or two. This one isn’t done right.

Much more important and done right: the highly adjustable seats included in both the F-Sport and Luxury Packages are far superior to the smaller, oddly contoured front buckets in the previous GS. They’re also both more comfortable and more supportive than those in the BMW. The Lexus approach to four-way power lumbar adjusters, with independent upper and lower adjustments, yields a better shape than a single bulge that can be shifted vertically. No longer offered in the BMW, but included with these seats in the Lexus: power-adjustable side bolsters. You sit a little higher relative to the instrument and door panels in the Lexus than in the BMW. Both have roomier, more comfortable rear seats than their predecessors, rendering the LS and 7-Series less necessary. Not so comfortable in the Lexus: a large bulge beneath the driver’s right calf (to accommodate the AWD system’s transfer case). A folding rear seat to expand the trunk is available in the BMW, but not in the Lexus.

BMW has continued to refine its iDrive control system, and the latest iteration’s simpler navigation poses little challenge. Lexus’s “remote touch” system, with a mouse-like force feedback controller, while niftier has a steeper learning curve. Theoretically, with more flexibility it should get you where you want more quickly, but in practice this is too often not the case. Specifying firmer feedback reduces, but doesn’t eliminate, the number of inadvertent selections induced by bumps in the road. Even then, navigating in two dimensions (versus the one-dimensional lists in the BMW) requires more conscious thought and manual precision. Both systems employ large displays capable of displaying two screens simultaneously, but that in the Lexus is a couple of inches larger. Unfortunately, BMW also felt the need to reinvent the shifter. The Lexus’s conventional lever feels better and is easier to use.

For 2013, Lexus offers only one non-hybrid engine in the GS, a normally-aspirated 306-horsepower 3.5-liter V6. The 2012 BMW offers three turbocharged engines, with four, six, and eight cylinders and 240, 300, and 400 horsepower, respectively. While the six might seem the closest match to the Lexus, a case can be made for the tested four-banger. At lower rpm it’s about as powerful as the 3.5 and the 528i’s price is much closer to that of the Japanese car.

Before driving the 528i, I wondered whether a four-cylinder was up to the task of motivating a two-ton sedan in a manner worthy of the “Ultimate Driving Machine” label. Well, power isn’t an issue unless you require an especially energetic shove in your lower back. The four gets up to any legal speed nearly as quickly as the six. Character could be more of a stumbling block. The 2.0-liter engine doesn’t idle nearly as smoothly as the six and at low rpm sounds surprisingly like a diesel. The action of the automatic start/stop system sends a mild shudder through the car. Adding insult to injury, the eight-speed automatic tends to lug the engine unless in Sport mode. But select Sport mode and the transmission holds a lower gear even when cruising, severely impacting fuel economy. At higher rpm and with a heavy foot the four sounds much better, but still not quite in character for a luxury sedan.

The Lexus’s engine delivers its power much differently. While I wouldn’t call it “torqueless”, it’s not a neck-snapper off the line. But cross 4,000 rpm and power jumps dramatically (in a style reminiscent of Honda’s high-performance VTEC engines). At the same point, the engine’s aural output also gets louder and fuller, with a tuned character intentionally similar to that of the IS-F. Credit (or blame) a “sound symposer”, a tube that channels sound from the engine’s intake to the cabin. Some might find this sound overly massaged, but I personally enjoy the livelier sound and feel of the Lexus engine more than those of the Germans’ boosted mills.

While Lexus offers an eight-speed automatic in some models, the 2013 retains the old six-speed. Between this and its larger engine, the GS 350 AWD’s EPA ratings (19 city, 26 highway) don’t approach those of the 528i xDrive (22/32). In casual suburban driving with the engine warmed up the trip computer reported about 22 in the Lexus and about 25 in the BMW. Drive more aggressively and the difference between the two narrows a little, with the Lexus falling into the high teens and the BMW dropping to just below 20. Take full advantage of “Eco Pro” mode in the BMW, which yields a Prius-like throttle response, and the gap widens. I observed an average as high as 30 in the BMW (vs. a high of 25 in the Lexus). But I also observed an actual Prius tailgate then pass me. The GS also has an “Eco” setting, but its impact is much less dramatic.

Even with the optional Sport Package’s dampers set to “Sport” the new 528i feels a little soft and sloppy. There’s some float following dips and bumps and a surprising (if still moderate) amount of lean in turns. Mild understeer is the defining trait. While the 550i xDrive retains the character of a rear-wheel-drive car, the four-cylinder, with two-thirds the torque, can’t produce the same effect. Body motions in even the Luxury Package GS are better controlled, and the F-Sport feels tighter still. All-wheel-drive limits the influence of your right foot on the attitude of the chassis in the Lexus much like it does in the BMW—neither car employs an active rear differential or torque vectoring. Steering is nicely weighted in both cars, but with a firmer feel in the Lexus.

Yet the BMW remains the easier car to drive quickly along a challenging road. Additional bobbling about notwithstanding, the 528i can be more precisely placed through turns. Its steering seems little more communicative, yet the driver receives more nuanced information, much of it through the ears and seat rather than through the fingertips. Even in F-Sport form, the Lexus insulates the driver more. There is an upside to this last difference: going down the road, the more refined GS sounds and feels more upscale and more luxurious. The F-Sport rides more firmly than the basic car, but remains far from punishing. A sound meter might detect little difference between the BMW and the Lexus, but the quality of the noise that gets through is another matter. Where BMW might have simply aimed for low decibel readings, Lexus has carefully tailored the noise that reaches your ears to convey a sense of luxury and quality.

As tested, the Lexus were priced at $58,997 (F-Spot) and $59,759 (Luxury). These two packages cannot be ordered together, so you must choose between the former’s more attractive exterior and firmer suspension and the latter’s softer leather and additional amenities (articulating upper backrests, memory for the front passenger seat, automatic climate controls and heat for the rear seats). I’d readily opt for the former. The BMW 528i, equipped more like the F-Sport, listed for $61,125. Both cars are available with quite a few additional options, including adaptive cruise control, head-up displays, night vision systems, premium audio, and (with rear-wheel-drive only) four-wheel active steering. Run both cars through TrueDelta’s car price comparison tool to adjust for unshared features, and the difference comes in just under $2,000. Probably not enough to be a factor at this level—but recall that the BMW is the 528i, not the 535i. For the latter, add $4,100.

Despite their convergence, drive the BMW 5-Series and Lexus GS back-to-back and they remain dramatically different cars. Despite a softer, less direct feel than past 5ers, the BMW still provides the driver with a larger amount of more nuanced feedback than the Lexus does. Meanwhile, the Lexus continues to more thoroughly insulate the driver (and passengers). For this and other reasons, the GS 350 also looks and feels more luxurious. Of the three cars reviewed, the GS 350 F-Sport best combines performance and luxury. It’s a very pleasurable car whether driven aggressively or casually. Lexus clearly goes further beyond objective criteria to the subjective experience of how the car looks, sounds, and feels. The largest advantage of the BMW, one for which the marque hasn’t been known in the past, is fuel efficiency. You can, of course, get the GS in hybrid form, but only if you’re willing to give up all-wheel-drive—and an additional $10,000.

Phil Coron of Meade Lexus in Southfield, MI, provided the Lexus GS 350 F-Sport. He can be reached at 248-372-7100.

Lexus provided the GS 350 Luxury, while BMW provided the 528i, in both cases with insurance and a tank of premium gas.

Michael Karesh operates TrueDelta.com, an online source of car reliability and real-world fuel economy information.

Last month we reviewed the 2012 BMW 328i and found it less than ultimate as driving machines go. But the reviewed car was a “Luxury Line” sedan with an automatic transmission. For driving enthusiasts, BMW offers the new F30 with different options, among them a larger engine, a six-speed manual transmission, a “Sport Line” trim level, adaptive dampers, and staggered 19-inch summer tires. Check all of these boxes, and the next M3 might seem superfluous. Or not.

Red paint, blacked-out trim, and larger, five-spoke alloys dependably make a car appear sportier. It is somewhat shocking that 19-inch wheels now seem the appropriate size, aesthetically, for a 3-Series. Shod with them, the new car appears as compact as 3s used to be. The previous generation E90 looked good with mere 18s. The next M3 will likely wear dubs. Ever since reading a reader comment on Sajeev’s design critique, I cannot stop noticing the cut line at the leading edge of the hood. BMW’s previous practice of extending the hood all the way to the grille and headlights yielded a much cleaner nose.

Inside, the Sport Line is available with black, gray, or red seats, aluminum or black trim, and coral (more red) or black accents. Whoever ordered the press car went with the most conservative options, so we have classic black leather (that doesn’t look or feel much different from the standard leatherette) with bright red stitching to lend some visual interest. The aluminum trim on the center console was already knicked in a couple of places, suggesting either that it won’t hold up well or that journalists badly abuse the machinery. The Sport Line includes front bucket seats with bolsters that are both larger and (unlike on the current F10 5-Series) power-adjustable. For anyone who’ll be taking turns at speed, these are a must-have. As in the 328i, both the rear seat and trunk are much roomier than in past 3s. For those willing to forego these for a smaller, lighter, more agile car, it’s time for a four-door 1-Series.

Despite kicking out 60 more horsepower than the 328i’s turbocharged 2.0-liter four, the 335i’s 300-horsepower turbocharged 3.0-liter inline six does not feel much stronger. BMW’s official test track numbers back up this impression. Pair both engines with a manual transmission, and the six is only 0.3 seconds quicker to sixty, 5.4 vs. 5.7. What gives? Through the mid-range the 50-percent-larger engine is only about 15 percent more powerful, and this is partially offset by an additional 165 pounds of mass. Peak torque is 300 pound-feet with the six, 260 with the four. Only once over 5,000 rpm is the big engine significantly more powerful. Audi’s supercharged “3.0T” feels torquier. It’s time for a new BMW six that’s as power dense as the new four.

The six of course sounds smoother, but its soundtrack is all exhaust (no whirring mechanical bits) and almost generic. BMW has offered sweeter-sounding sixes in the past. When cruising the exhaust drones a bit much. The four’s much more varied repertoire is arguably inappropriate for a $40,000+ car, but is also more interesting.

The EPA ratings suggest that the six isn’t significantly less efficient than the four. Figures for the latter paired with the automatic transmission have been revised downward from 24 city, 36 highway to 23/33. The six with the same transmission? Also 23/33. And the heavier, all-wheel-drive 528i xDrive…would you believe 22/32? Me neither. Something ain’t right. I suspect only one powertrain was retested. You take a hit with the manual transmission. In the 335i it’s rated 20 city, 30 highway. In my driving, the trip computer reported numbers from five to ten miles-per-gallon lower with the 335i 6MT than with the 328i 8AT. While I was able to “Eco Pro” the latter over 40, it proved a challenge to nudge the former over 30. In typical suburban driving, the trip computer reported low-to-mid 20s in the 335i and high 20s to low 30s in the 328i. The harder you are on the gas, the smaller the difference between the two. Count on a sizeable difference on the highway with the manual transmission: it has a shorter top gear (0.85 vs. 0.67) AND a shorter final drive ratio (3.23 vs. 3.15).

Given the manual’s lesser efficiency and equal purchase price, is there a point to it? If you have to ask this question, then no, there isn’t. (I only asked it out of journalistic obligation.) My only issue with the manual other than the fuel economy hit is that second gear can be difficult to find on a quick downshift, a byproduct of locating the lockout-free reverse to the left of first.

With the Sport Line’s sport suspension and the “M Adaptive Suspension” set to “Sport”, the new 3 does feel tighter than the Luxury Line car, but still looser than I’ve come to expect from a BMW. In turns, especially those with imperfect pavement or where you’re being a little too aggressive with the accelerator, the rear end can bobble about a bit. Somehow the car’s line isn’t disturbed, only the driver’s confidence – and not by much. The bond with the F30 isn’t as immediate as with past 3s, but one learns that, when driven with a modicum of sanity, the 335i will go precisely where you want it to go. The misbehavior some people (who clearly don’t know what they’re talking about) refer to as ”snap oversteer”? There’s none of that. Get on the go pedal in a turn and the rear end slides out progressively. Left entirely on, the stability control will cut in too soon. There’s no need to deactivate it; the Sport+ setting puts the threshold about where it ought to be. The electric power steering is no more communicative here than in other recent BMWs. Perhaps BMW reasons that, since the car virtually reads your mind, there’s no need for it to converse. I’m not sure I’d drive the 335i better with more communicative steering, but I would enjoy the experience more. EPS notwithstanding, the 335i becomes enjoyable if you can really push it, the problem being that this is rarely a legal possibility in populated areas. During my week with the 335i I constantly felt like I had to back off just as the fun was starting. I didn’t drive the 328i and 335i with the same suspension, but as best as I can tell, the car feels heavier and less agile with the six, a typical consequence of adding 165 pounds over the front wheels.

One option not on the tested car: the $300 “variable sport steering.” This isn’t the complex active steering offered in the previous 3-Steries. Instead, the steering ratio quickens more rapidly as the wheel is turned. On center, the standard steering is 15:1, the VSS 14.5:1. By the time the wheel has been turned 100 degrees (roughly the amount needed to turn at a typical intersection) the standard steering has quickened to 10.1:1, but the VSS has reduced to an ultra-quick 7.7:1. Intrigued, I dropped by a dealer to sample a car with this option. As the specs suggest, the optional system doesn’t feel much different on-center or in medium-to-large radius curves. Only in tight curves does the steering feel noticeably different, and even then, it’s only really apparent after hopping back into the car without it. The largest difference will be felt in parking lots, where fewer turns are needed to maneuver into a space. Unlike with active steering, the character of the car isn’t dramatically affected. But since VSS is only another $300, I’d opt for it.

The upside of the F30’s less sporty sport suspension? The car rides more smoothly than previous sport-suspension equipped 3ers. I could live with the suspension set to “Sport” all the time, a good thing, as the car can bounce about far too much when set to “Comfort.” (Yes, you’ll need to switch it every time you start the car.) Given the underdamped nature of the default setting, the Sport Line’s standard suspension is probably the way to go. This will also save you $900. To save another $900, stick with the Sport Line’s standard 18-inch wheels. They look and handle about as good and ride significantly better. The 19s don’t ride harshly much of the time, but hit even a small pothole and it sounds like you’ve taken out a wheel. Non-run-flat tires would likely do better, but BMW does not offer them.

Equipped with most but not all options, the tested 335i lists for $55,745. Seem like a lot for a compact sport sedan? As just noted, you can save $1,800 by doing without the 19s and adaptive dampers. If you can live without nav and a head-up display (which would be more useful if it included a tach), then you’ll remove another $2,550. Keep cutting the non-essentials, add the optional steering, and you’ll arrive at a mere $47,195.

Still too steep for a vinyl-upholstered compact sedan? Well, there’s a good way to save another $3,700. The 328i is nearly as quick, is considerably more fuel efficient (despite similar EPA ratings), and handles better. Overall, even with the various sport options the new 3-Series feels a little soft and uninvolving for my taste. BMW focused on providing a very well-rounded car, and clearly left room for a future “is” or “M Sport.” Among the current offerings, the 328i Sport Line is the one to get.

BMW provided the tested car with insurance and a tank of gas. Erhard BMW of Farmington Hills, MI, provided the car with VSS.

Michael Karesh operates TrueDelta.com, an online source of car reliability and real-world fuel economy information.

No car has defined and dominated a segment like the BMW 3-Series. It is the compact sport sedan everyone else has been gunning for since the origin of the line over 30 years ago. So when the 3er is redesigned, as it has been for 2012, everyone wonders: have they once again raised the bar, or have they lost their way, perhaps even choked? An answer, in two parts. First up: a “Luxury Line” 328i automatic. Next month: a three-pedal “Sport Line” 335i.

The 3-Series rose to dominance as a car for driving enthusiasts. But if BMW was ever content with such a narrow focus, that ended decades ago. Even back in the 1980s there were luxury-oriented “L” variants of the 6- and 7-Series. The newest 3 lifts a page from the Mercedes playbook to more distinctly target different groups of buyers with a “Luxury Line” alongside a “Sport Line.” A “Modern” Line” is essentially the former with less chrome on the outside and more adventurous trim on the inside. (Cheap SoBs content with 17-inch rims and satin plastic trim can get a car with no “Line” at all.) Of course, trim levels are relatively cheap and easy. Much more ambitious, especially given the relatively small size of the company is how BMW has sold some variant of the 3 to anyone seeking a $35,000+ compact sedan. But can a single model hope to be the best car for everyone?

Even successful revolutions tend to be followed by counter-revolutions. Chris Bangle’s “flame surfaced” designs sold cars and were widely copied. But enough of BMW’s core constituency expressed (at times vehement) disapproval that by the time the “E90” 3-Series (below) was introduced six years ago the American innovator had been tamed. With the new “F30” 3-Series no new aesthetic ground was sought, and even less was gained. No one will mistake the new 3 for anything else. Well, unless they mistake it for the previous generation sedan or the current “F10” 5-Series. The new car looks much the same as the old one, only with mildly softened, simplified lines, including a more bulbous nose and widened “kidneys.” An already watered-down design has been watered down further, and some of the old body’s tightness and rightness have been lost in the quest to produce a more broadly appealing, less pedestrian injuring car. Compared to the F10, the main difference is size.

Oops, wrong photo. Here’s the right one:

This is likely the last time BMW can get away with such a mild update. The F30 sedan is an attractive car, but not a striking one. Next time around, they’d best attempt an aesthetic reinvention along the lines of the E36. We’ll have plenty of warning. Design innovations tend to be tested first with the 7 then the 5. The upcoming “i” cars enable a preliminary round where truly risky concepts can be tested well ahead of any new 7.

The F30’s interior similarly represents a further development of the design language established by the 2002 7-Series, though in its case the changes are generally for the better. As with the current 5 and 7, the center stack has been vertically shortened, for a sportier appearance. For the F30 they’ve gone a step further, visually separating the display screen from the rest of the center stack. As a result, the screen sticks out of the top of the instrument panel much like a retractable one would—only it doesn’t retract. Not the cleanest appearance, but this does successfully minimize the perceived mass of the IP and thus makes the car itself seem less massive. I drove the new 5 a week earlier, and even more than past midsize BMWs it feels a little large to me. Sliding into the new 3, I instantly felt at home. Okay, not quite instantly. Unlike those in the Audi A4 and upcoming Cadillac ATS, the 3’s driver seat feels too low (to this 5’9″ driver) when in its lowest position. The seat adjuster provides a quick and easy fix.

There’s luxury, and then there’s “BMW Luxury.” In cars without the “Sport Line” treatment you get BMW’s basic seat, so it’s firm and lacking in contour. Theoretically the four-way lumbar adjuster should enable a perfect fit, but as is often the case with these no setting seemed quite right (YMMV). The “Sport Line” includes BMW’s sport buckets, with larger adjustable bolsters (oddly decontented from the current 5).

The biggest surprise with the new 3: nearly as much rear kneeroom as in the 5, and considerably more than in competitors. (Ignore the on-paper superiority of the Audi A4—it doesn’t exist in the real world.) On top of this, the rear seat is even comfortably shaped and positioned, a rarity in the segment. The trunk has grown even more. At 17.0 cubic feet, it’s easily the largest in the segment. The optional folding rear seat now splits 40:20:40. With the passive entry option, swinging a foot under the rear bumper pops the lid open hands-free.

I’m just old enough to remember when most 3ers were sold here with four-cylinder engines. And Audi fits most A4s with fours. Even so, it’s a little hard to get my head around the idea of a 328i with a turbocharged 2.0-liter engine. The inline six feels and sounds so good in runs to the redline, how could a four possibly serve as a suitable replacement? Well, it just can’t.

Not that the four is bad. It’s plenty powerful and capable of getting to sixty in under six seconds. But at idle and low rpm it sounds shockingly similar to a diesel, transitioning to a boxer-like brogue in the mid-range, and then finally to an engaging snarl over 4k. At no speed does it sound like a conventional four. But it only sings sweetly at higher engine speeds, and even then the positive impression lasts only until you get behind the wheel of a decent six.

The boosted nature of the engine is evident in a sluggish throttle response at low revs. The four might bang out 260 pound-feet at a low, low 1,250 rpm, but these “torques” aren’t immediately available. Let the transmission manage its own shifts and you’ll often find yourself seriously thrust-deficient mid-curve unless you request said thrust at turn entry—or earlier. Even in “sport” mode (which makes much less of a difference than in past BMWs). The solution is to manually shift the occasionally bumpy eight-speed automatic and keep the revs over 3k. Or get something else with a six.

An undeniable advantage of the four is fuel economy. In “Eco Pro” mode, the throttle feel approaches that of a Prius, and I found it oddly soothing to ooze slowly away from stops much as I would in a Prius. (So much so that, when I drove a 528i with the same powertrain, a Prius first tailgated then passed me. Payback’s a…well, you know.) The payoff of going extra easy on the gas: when hyper-miling through the burbs, the trip computer reliably reported 37-38 miles-per-gallon. On one trip between the kid’s school and home where the traffic signals aligned in my favor, I even managed a bit over 40. Does it lie? (I’ve asked the fleet company to let me know how much gas they put in it when the car is redeployed tomorrow.)

In less casual driving, expect high 20s to low 30s. Employ a lead foot and spend a lot of time over 4,000 rpm? Then hello high teens. With the turbo, fuel economy varies widely based on driving style. Dare the 2.0 to drink, and it’ll drink.

[Update: the fleet company got those figures to me, and they're not pretty. If they're correct, the 328i managed only 21.9 miles-per-gallon during its week with me. This is about 8 to 10 mpg lower than the figures reported by the trip computer, a huge difference. The trip computer also reported surprisingly high numbers with the 528i, so BMW trip computers could tend to be highly inaccurate.]

One fuel economy trick in need of further refinement: an automatic stop / start system. Stop at a light in Drive with your foot on the brake and the engine automatically cuts off. Lift off the brake and it automatically restarts. Hybrids have done this for years, and in heavy traffic, moving from signal to signal you’ll save a lot of gas. Unfortunately, the stops and starts are far from seamless—each is accompanied by a shudder that will provoke a visceral reaction from anyone who has ever stalled a car with a stick. More of a quibble: as in some hybrids, it can be easy to forget you haven’t actually turned the car off. The tach provides a clue, with the needle at “ready” when the engine is off but the ignition isn’t.

BMW’s reinvention of the slushbox shifter is no more desirable in the new 3 than in the 5 and 7. A tip to OEMs: if your shifter requires on-screen instructions, it’s probably too complicated. Another: people operate these things with their hands. It’s more important that they feel good when grasped than that they give sci-fi fans the cold fuzzies. A more hand-friendly reinvention, once you figure out what they’ve done: the secondary release under the hood is impossible to find, because there isn’t one. Instead, pull the release inside the car twice.

So you’ve got the engine north of 3k and head into that curve. Can the Luxury Line 3er handle it? The car’s initial reactions set off alarm bells. The body heels over and, if the pavement gets wavy, the nose also bobs considerably. Body motions are more tightly controlled in a Buick. But, what do you know, despite all the swaying and bobbing there’s no weaving. The 3er adheres faithfully to your specified line. And while the feedback might not all be confidence-inspiring, it is at least still provided in quantity, through the seat of your pants more than through the fairly light, somewhat vague (yet still superior) steering. Oversteer is easy to induce, even easier to correct. Squeeze the go pedal just so (with the revs and thus boost up) and the rear end slides around beautifully, even gracefully. Squeeze the pedal a little further to…well, just because driving sideways is fun when you can feel confident that a touch of counter-steer will dependably bring the rear back into line. You can connect with this car, the bond just isn’t as strong, as engaging, or as rewarding as in the E90 (at least not in non-Sport form). Does this matter? If the car will do what is asked of it, must it necessarily do so with a smile?

The combination of precise handling (when the chips are down) with a smooth, quiet ride might well be the best of both worlds for non-enthusiasts. But the new 3 doesn’t quite deliver the latter. As soft and squishy as the suspension can feel at times, bumps and divots still announce their presence more loudly and sharply than in a Lexus. Overall noise levels are low, perhaps lower than in the larger 528i, yet enough small sounds intrude to break the spell. Much like the interior doesn’t look like that of a luxury car, the ride doesn’t sound or feel like that of a luxury car. Many people will no doubt blame the mandatory run-flat tires, and they could well be right. But I also get the sense that, no matter how much BMW wants to appeal to luxury car buyers, they can’t entirely escape the corporate DNA.

One group BMW remains happy to leave for other auto makers: those seeking affordable wheels. The base price of the F30 is up only a few hundred dollars from the E90’s, to $35,795. Accounting for the disappearance of last year’s no-cost leather widens the gap, but a $400 adjustment for the new car’s additional features (using TrueDelta’s car price comparison tool yields a roughly $1,300 bump. But the E90 was already more expensive than the competition. Check most of the option boxes, as with the tested car, and the 2012’s sticker stops just short of fifty large. A similarly-equipped Infiniti G37 (no need to bother with the torque-free G25) runs about $4,000 less after adjusting for remaining feature differences.

I remember my first drive in the BMW E90. I instantly bonded with that car, and had a blast pushing it hard along my twisty route. In comparison, many aspects of the F30 328i impressed me—most notably the rear seat and the fuel economy—but the driving experience just isn’t quite the same. BMW seems so confident of its handling superiority that it has sought to only hold the line (or even yield a little) in this area, and concentrate on improving the car elsewhere. Like the buttoned-down bureaucrat who decides to cut loose one night after work, the result in incomplete and unconvincing. Few true sybarites will be fooled. And driving enthusiasts? Well, the “Luxury Line” isn’t intended for us. I’m still very much looking forward to a week in a “Sport Line” stick-shift 335i next month.

BMW provided the car with insurance and a tank of gas.

Michael Karesh operates TrueDelta.com, an online provider of car reliability and real-world fuel economy information.

Wherever the hollow tubes of the InterWeb may reach, there you will find the argument that “it’s always a better idea to buy a CPO used car than a new one.” The mean transaction price of a new car in the United States is about $29,000. That kind of money will get you a loaded-up Camcord, a discounted LaCrosse, or any number of other mass-market sedans… but can it get you the BMW of your dreams? A friend and former co-worker of mine decided to find out, using his own time and money.

(Dramatic voice) This… is his story.

My search is over; now the love affair can officially begin. I had decided on the 535xi because it falls into an unbelievable sweet spot for me. It has the twin-turbo inline six (that eliminated the 2007 5-series and the 2008/9 528xi). It could be found for around $30,000 with the CPO warranty (that eliminated the 550). It has the room to seat four adults comfortably (that eliminated the 335xi). It has the AWD (which eliminated older 650′s, M3s, and M5′s). And it has looks, tech, and power.

So then came the comparison stage, how to compare nearly one hundred 2008′s and 2009′s? After flailing about for a few days and repeatedly confusing cars, I settled on a grid analysis which would score each car on the criteria I considered important; price, miles, exterior color, interior color, premium pkg, cold-weather pkg, sport pkg, heated rear sets, navigation, carfax, CPO warranty end date, etc. Then I weighted each of these criteria based on their necessity. That process gave me a score for each car.

Not knowing what I would say or how the conversation would go, I nervously dialed the dealer that had my top-scoring Bimmer. After I made every mistake that a novice buyer can make in the first five minutes (including naming my price), the salesman told me the car was still on the lot but appeared to have been sold the previous Saturday. WHAT?! Impossible. I was certain he was blowing me off because I had asked for a pre-purchase inspection (PPI). I had a friend with a cell phone in a different area code call and ask about the car. Sold. Damn.

I got a little desperate, calling three dealerships, naming my price, confirming that the options listed in the ad were correct. I focused on cars that had been on the lot for a while, thinking maybe I could negotiate thousands off the price as the dealer would be glad to be rid of it. Not so. A particularly fetching Monaco Blue Metallic w/Natural Brown leather was firm at $32,000 even though it had been available for more than four months. It can’t go any lower, I was told, that’s what we have in the car. What a shame. Oh well, on to the next one.

After another near miss where I ended up perhaps being a bit too eager to buy what was, in retrospect, the wrong car, I cooled it on the phone calls for a few days. All incoming calls from the circling sharks were put off with lame excuses, just enough to get them off the phone. I’m sure I was labeled “luke-warm” on Post-It notes in New Jersey, Michigan, North Carolina, and New York. I deleted my initial grid analysis and started over.

I scrutinized my weightings; asking questions like, do I really care more about the cold-weather package than the CPO warranty end date, and do I care about Nav at all? Also, in this interval I dug into the 535, learning about the HPFP problems, the gremlins in the electronics, warrantied items, and perhaps more important, those items that are not warrantied; like the batteries (foreshadowing). I investigated independent BMW shops, locally and near dealerships I might call. I began reading articles on the psychology employed by salesmen. I learned the techniques that supposedly counter these tactics (silence is big). I compared Fair Market Value (FMV) on KBB’s and NADA’s websites to the Dealer trade-in price. I decided I would be myself; honest and direct. This may seem idiotic, but I have always been uncomfortable when I stray from the truth (though I still sometimes do). I simply refused to believe that I had to lie to succeed.

Now I was ready, renewed, and excited to start again. Maybe I was just a little wiser…maybe. At the top of the list were two; one a 2008, the other a 2009, both blue, both with brown leather, both with sport, cold-weather, and premium packages. The differences were small and/or inconsequential; the 2009 had fewer miles and a longer CPO warranty, and the 2008 had the 18″ wheels. The asking prices were just $200 apart. What swayed me toward the 2008 initially was BMW Financial’s incentives; first two payments and 1.9% APR for 48 months. The 2009 had a respectable offer of 2.9% APR for 48 months. At this point it was February 21st.

I called on the 2008. In my confusion, I had forgotten it was one I had already called on. The price had come down $900 to $32,000 and Bob, the salesman, was emphatic that they needed to get that out of the car just to break even. I was skeptical, and I was armed with some pretty good (as it turned out) estimates of what they paid, and what they put into the car to recondition it for CPO status. I knew how long the car had been on the lot. Finally, I knew that there were other cars. This last bit of knowledge proved to be the most crucial.

I was working against a clock, as well. Due to the impending expiration of the incentives and the 400-mile distance between me and the dealership, the upcoming Saturday, February 29, was the only day I could buy this car.

I explained to Bob that I would not buy the car without a PPI. He responded with details about the CPO program, and the singular excellence of this car. His sales manager was more direct: no PPI, period. I called on the other car, and was told that a PPI would be no problem. The next day, Wednesday, Bob called back. The CFO is involved, he said, and a PPI can be done if I’ll put down a deposit. Refundable? Yes. Done. Paperwork was faxed, signed, and returned. Interestingly, the paperwork I was asked to sign included the $32,000 price tag. I suppose they wanted me to think I had agreed to the price by signing. I was also asked to apply for the BMW financing. I guess they wanted to know if they would be able to sell me a car. (I think asking for the financing worked against them as you’ll see later on.) The inspection was scheduled for Friday morning, February 24th.

Thanks to a busy morning at work, I didn’t see the results of the inspection until 11:30 AM. Codes pulled from the computer showed 11 separate items. Uh oh. “Not to worry,” said the inspector, “I think it is all due to a dying battery. Ask them to replace it.”

Now I’ve got a problem. Maybe all of those codes are battery-related, but what if they aren’t? The timeframe is too short to replace the battery, recalibrate the ECU, and pull the codes again. I decided to ask for battery replacement and $1000 off the car. I was convinced the price was too high, and now I had a solid reason. Bob, who had repeatedly told me that he stood to make nothing off this car, stated that they wouldn’t give that much. Maybe the battery, but a grand on top was too much. “I will buy the car if you’ll do it,” I stated. The answer: No deal. End of the adventure.

I didn’t bother to call on the 2009. That could wait until the following week. The pressure that had built all week evaporated in an instant. I was disappointed, but I felt confident I had done the right thing. I’m pretty sure they were banking on using my desire for the car and my commitment to the process against me. I’m still not sorry I expressed how much I wanted the car. A month of research had tempered my enthusiasm. They just didn’t know that. Then the phone rang. I felt the anger start to build the moment I saw the number of the dealership come up on the caller ID. Didn’t they know that this was over, at least as far as I was concerned? Three rings went by, and I almost let it go to voice mail. Almost.

“It’s Bob. You’re not going to believe this (correct, I won’t), but the CFO and the sales manager are arguing over your offer.”

“I don’t have an offer. You turned it down. I have no interest in playing games.”

“No games. We’ll do 31k and the new battery if the offer is still valid.” You’d think I would have been happy to hear this, but I wasn’t. I said almost nothing. I didn’t trust myself to speak.

“Let me get back to you Bob. I’m not pleased.” This is where my friends and my wife were crucial. It took a while for me to calm down. Honestly, I’m not completely sure why I was so angry, but I finally realized that I was getting what I wanted. I accepted. The breakneck pace then accelerated. I raced home, making calls the whole way to address the logistics of driving to St. Louis on short notice (which I had canceled when my initial offer was refused). Then to the airport to pick up the rental car. Back to the house to pick up the wife and an overnight bag, and we were off.

As if to drive home the logic of buying German, the Malibu LTZ we rented would not let us take the key out of the ignition once inserted. Calls to the rental car company and a Chevy dealership service department were not helpful. Of course, this problem is probably an isolated incident. I have no idea if this is a common problem (Google didn’t think so), but it made me feel better about my decision.

When I finally arrived at the dealership, the car was right out front. I looked right past it because I thought it couldn’t look that good. Then I drove it. Wow! How could this car have sat for five months? I hope there is not an unhappy answer to that question somewhere in my future. The car is now mine. I own a 2008 BMW 535xi. Still can’t believe it!

Did my friend make the right decision, or was he blinded by the allure of the Roundel? You could get out your slide rule and make the argument either way, but let’s face it: new cars aren’t dishwashers. Emotion plays a role. No matter what happens in the years to come, my friend will walk out to the driveway knowing that he has the car he wants. That’s worth a little bit of money, hassle, and time, if you ask me.

In an unusual twist, BMW decided to release the redesigned 650i coupé after the drop-top version we snagged last November. The reason for the coupé’s late arrival is simple; BMW tells us it accounts for only about 30% of 6-series sales. Two-door luxury cars usually drive better than their chop-top sisters, but if you have the cash to burn and care about driving, should you still go topless?

Like it’s convertible twin, the 650i coupé has lost the “Bangle-butt” the previous generation wore , opting for clean, simple lines, a resurrection of chrome accents and more LEDs than the Home Depot lighting isle. While the convertible strikes it’s best poses topless (due to the awkward “buttressed” look caused by the vertical rear window) the coupé looks lean and mean from every angle. Like the 6-series convertible, the 650i coupé can be had with LED headlamps. While they are not notably “better” than HIDs, they sound much cooler when you tell your friends.

BMW may not have Jaguar’s way with style, but the 650′s cabin is exquisitely assembled. From the stitched leather dash (optional, but every 6-series on the lot at my local dealer was so equipped), to the perfect wood trim,  the attention to detail is second to none. Gone are the awkward oval shapes from the 2010 650i, and in their place is a tall dashboard dominated by the ginormous, high-resolution, 10.2-inch, widescreen iDrive display. Jumping up from the 640i to the 650i brings BMW’s 24-way front seats (20 of the ways are powered and the last four are manual headrest adjustments) instead of the plebeian 10-way variety. This upgrade also opens the door to ventilated anti-fatigue thrones which use air bladders to cut road-trip butt-fatigue. While they work as advertised, the feeling of having your backside slowly groped takes some getting used to. Should faux-suede and snazzier leather be your thing, BMW would be happy to slather the headliner in acres of Alcantara and broaden your hide palate with an additional 5 colors for the princely sum of $7,700.

iDrive has come a long way since it’s introduction, and while it can still be unintuitive and overly complicated at times, it is quite simply the ultimate in-car attraction for my inner nerd. Rather than taking Jaguar’s performance-minimalism attitude to technology, the 6-series can be had with everything from radar cruise control, lane departure warning, self-parking and pre-collision warning systems that are becoming commonplace to the truly unique full-color heads up display and FLIR (Forward Looking InfraRed) camera system with pedestrian detection. Unlike Volvo’s system that will stop the car to prevent an impact, the 650i will let you know pedestrians are in the roadway, but it’s up to you to act on the information. I’m still unsure whether I’d rather my car took action to prevent a collision without telling me beforehand, or if I’d like my car to tell me but not take any other action at all. Sound off in the comment section and let us know what you think.

Our 650 tester was equipped with the optional iPhone dock (available for the iPhone 4, 4S and select Blackberry devices) which charges the iPhone as well as allowing an all-new feature to be used: Apple’s “video out”. While this feature is in its infancy, it may allow greater functionality in the future and here’s why: the interface you see in iDrive while in this mode is actually generated by your iPhone, not the car. Sorry Droid fans, because just about every Droid phone is different BMW doesn’t make a dock for your smartphone right now. At the moment while the dock is nice it doesn’t allow the use of your iPhone’s case and instrument cluster display isn’t capable of displaying track and playlist information while in this mode. Checkout the video link below to see “video out”  in action.

Click here to view the embedded video.

At 400HP and 450 lb-ft, the 650i’s new 4.4L twin-turbo engine is up 40HP and 90 lb-ft compared to the outgoing 4.8L naturally aspirated engine from last year. Thanks to the hairdryers, torque gets to the boil by 1,750 RPM and stays on strong all the way to 4500 RPM, which is quite a departure from both the previous 650i and the Jaguar XK8 and their peaky power curves. The benefit of the broad powerband and all-new 8-speed ZF automatic is obvious when you take a look at the 0-60 time, which we clocked at 4.23 seconds. This is not only 0.46 seconds faster than the convertible 650i we tested (it had skinnier tires), but also notably faster than the lighter XK8 and about equal to the 510HP XKR (wheel spin is the XKR’s enemy). The new 6 is one seriously fast beast. The only downside to the turbo charged nature of the 650i seems to be the exhaust note, the 650i just doesn’t sound as nice as the Jag’s 5.0L V8. While the new Jaguar XKR-S and BMW M6 will duke out the high-end of the turbo vs supercharger war with their 550 and 560 horsepower engines, the real performance secret is the 650i AWD which ran to 60 in 4.22 seconds due to the enhanced grip, and will post similar numbers rain or shine with very little drama. The M6 on the other hand is likely to behave similarly to the XKR-S (a review of which will be posted in the coming weeks) with 3.8-3.9 second runs to 60 amid severe traction control intervention and only on perfect road surfaces.

The 650i is a heavy car at 4,233lbs and thanks to the electric power steering, it feels like it on the twisties. While not as numb as Mercedes’ CL550 4Matic, the XK8 is by far the driver’s car, due as much to its 500lb lower curb weight as its hydraulic power steering. Despite the lack of feel, the 650i handles very well and is extremely confident in the corners. Performance-enhancing options include a “rear tire bump” from the stock 245-width rubber to 275s, an upgrade worth getting if you’re buying the RWD 650i as the extra rubber helps apply the power. Regardless of the rear tire sizing, the fronts stay 245s and as a result the 650i can occasionally feels like it’s heading for the bushes when pushed hard. The 8-speed transmission is certainly geared more toward economy than sport and the feeling becomes obvious when you slip behind the wheel of an XK with ZF’s 6-speed. Even in sport mode where the 8-speed all but locks out gears 7 and 8, the older 6-speed is far more eager to do your bidding, and Jaguar tunes the ZF transmission for fast, crisp shifts.

Our 650i started with a “reasonable” $83,000 base MSRP (the XK8 starts at $84,500 and the CL at $114,100) to which was added the following: a no-charge “fine line oak” trim, $750 cold weather package (heated seats and steering wheel), $2,900 full-LED package with 20″ wheels, $3,700 “driver assistance” package (heads-up display, blind spot warning, all-around-view cameras, self parking, and lane departure warning), $5,500 Bang & Olufsen sound system (with iPod/USB adapter and satellite radio), $2,600 night vision, $1,750 four-wheel active steering and $1,500 for the leather dashboard. After options, our total out-the-door MSRP ballooned to an eye-popping $102,845. It’s good to be king. While it’s not possible to comparably equip an XK8 due to the lack of gadgetry, de-contenting the 650i reveals a pricing structure roughly in-line with the Jag, and considerably less than the Mercedes CL550 we looked at last September.

It seems that every review of the 6-series I have read bemoans the ever-increasing weight and dimensions of BMW’s premium two-door. This reviewer however sees absolutely no problem with the portly nature of the 6-series. The two-ton-plus curb weight and long wheelbase give the 6-series a compliant ride on even the most broken pavement and the active suspension does an admirable job of adjusting the damping enough for some tail-wagging fun if required. Most importantly however; with the twin-turbo fire-breather under the hood, this nearly 4,300lb whale can dance. For the past 20 years BMW has been gradually becoming the new Mercedes, a transition which I applaud. With enough gadgets to keep Bill Gates happy and an interior that is as perfect as anything this side of Aston Martin, the 650i may just be the ultimate luxury GT, except I would never buy it. Why? Because BMW makes an AWD drop-top 650i.

BMW provided the vehicle, insurance and one tank of gas for this review.

Specifications as tested

0-30: 1.81 Seconds

0-60: 4.23 Seconds

0-100: 10.56 Seconds

1/4 mile: 12.7 Seconds @ 110.2MPH

It seems unlikely that anyone in 2037 will be inclined to keep a 2012 BMW 650ci in such excellent condition as the 1987 635CSi pictured above -and even if such a thing happens, will said 650i make it that far into the future without a catastrophic electronics failure rendering it a two-ton paperweight? Although Jack and Steve have offered their own context on older cars, mine will be different. I’m still not yet legally able to rent a car on my own. This 635CSi was built before I was even born, so driving it gives me a glimpse into the past, but without the benefit (or handicap) of contemporaneous context.

Ari, the owner of the gorgeous example in the title picture, was the first of our group to have a car, a navy blue Dodge Intrepid that was used as a detective’s car. At the age of 18, telling girls that “I have my own car” was considered the height of comedy, with all the associated dissonance of knowing that it was bound to deliver poor returns.

The Intrepid died sometime in the winter of 2008 only to be replaced by something far more interesting – a 1987 E24 BMW 635CSi. Ari’s Dad had always wanted a BMW, but could never justify the cost of one – the fleet of trucks needed for his contracting business was a priority, and he had a fully loaded Sierra 2500 Duramax for himself, which probably cost as much as a nicely equipped 5-Series. It’s easy to see how Ari’s dad finally justified this purchase: it was in incredible shape, with only 64,000 miles on the clock and a set of authentic AC Schnitzer rims. Ari’s mom promptly managed to destroy one of them after hitting a median at speeds near 50 mph, and a replacement couldn’t be found. For the rest of its life, the car wore E39 M5 wheels – and Ari became its sole driver, with his mom getting a Volvo wagon for the daily grind.

I was lucky enough to drive the CSi on a couple occasions over the years, and those moments are responsible for informing me on how cars, particularly BMWs, used to behave. It wasn’t muted and comfortable like the E39 or any post-Bangle BMW. Rather, it felt a bit rougher around the edges, in the same way that my Miata feels crude compared to a modern MX-5. The big I6 was only rated for 182 horsepower but felt much zestier than its output figure would suggest. The one flaw in the package was the slow, ponderous-feeling recirculating-ball steering which felt dated to someone used to more precise rack-and-pinion systems.

For most people our age, the 635CSi was just a cool looking BMW from a bygone era. For those who knew better, it was a portal to another era of the automobile, before iDrive, Bluetooth and “aspirational brands”, a driving experience that was distinctly analogue and imperfect, but with a fidelity unmatched by modern methods.  Driven back to back with any current BMW, you’d hardly know that the E24 shares a common lineage with the current crop of cars. A quarter century of “progress” has led to the 6-Series gaining two extra cylinders, two turbochargers, 3 extra forward gears and a suite of electronics that would be inconceivable in 1987. Unfortunately, Ari lost his job right around the time that the radiator, brakes and exhaust system all needed replacing, and he decided to quickly sell the car rather than wait it out and try and repair the car at a later date. Had he possessed some extra money and inclination, the 635csi could have easily ran another 25 years.

Now that winter weather has (finally) come to Michigan, it’s time to look forward to spring, when roadsters will emerge from their long hibernation to frolic along twisty two-lanes. Don’t have one, and feeling the urge? More than with a midsize sedan or a compact crossover, a roadster is a very personal choice, as the contenders—Audi TT, BMW Z4, Chevrolet Corvette, Mazda Miata, Mercedes SL and SLK, Nissan 370Z, Porsche Boxster—vary in configuration and character much more than those in high-volume segments. If you know what you want in a roadster, the choice should just about make itself. So, what might lead someone to opt for the BMW?

The Z4 is an oddball within the BMW line. While other BMWs are styled very similarly, often to a fault, the roadster is distinctly not like the others. No “same sausage, different lengths” here. Yes, there is more of a similarity than with the full-on retro Z3 that originated the model. But while secondary cues now resemble those of other BMWs, the Z4’s bulldog proportions remain those of a classic roadster. Though stopping well short of SLR excess, the hood might yet induce envy from John Holmes. In comparison, the hindquarters continue to appear disproportionately small. When up, the roof also appears undersized, even barely there, though the need to have it fit inside the compact trunk might have been as much of a factor as aesthetics.

Inside, the car is more typically BMW, including an inscrutable audio system, though some hints of the Z3 remain. From the low-mounted driver’s seat the long hood actually seems to rise up ahead of you, strongly affecting the driving experience. SUVs and even normal cars tower over you. You know you’re driving a sports car even when standing still. You don’t remotely get this in a 3-Series, or even in an otherwise similar SLK. Unlike in some roadsters, the header is not too low, and so does not uncomfortably impinge on the view forward.

There’s plenty of headroom. The seats provide good lateral support, but like the insufficiently cosseting standard seats in other BMWs are otherwise only marginally comfortable despite four-way power lumbar adjustments. Even with the top stowed there’s enough room in the boot for a Costco run (including a value pack of paper towels) or for a couple of weekender-sized duffel bags.

The Z4’s livability continues once underway. Noise levels are moderate, and the ride is quite livable (though it can get choppy across tar strips and expansion joints). This roadster is far from raw. If you want your BMW raw, find a Z3, preferably in M Roadster form.

But is it fun? After all, unless a roadster is fun to drive, then what’s the point? (Okay, some people buy these things just for styling and image, but I’d rather pretend otherwise.) The reviewed 2012 BMW Z4 is the sDrive28i. In case you don’t speak BMWese, this means it’s rear-wheel-drive (the Z4 isn’t available with all-wheel-drive, at least not yet) and powered by the equivalent of a 2.8-liter fuel-injected engine. Why the italicized bits? Like CPU manufacturers, BMW departed from a literal representation of key specs when this threatened to harm sales by making two engines seem either too close together or too far apart in performance potential. For 2012, the 2.8 is actually a new turbocharged 2.0-liter four-cylinder engine in place of last year’s 3.0-liter inline six. At its 5,000 rpm peak—a full 2,000 rpm short of the redline—the four puts out 240 horsepower. Like many current turbocharged engines, torque is electronically managed to yield a non-curve as flat as Kansas, with 260 pound-feet all the way from 1,250 to 4,800. Judging from the low power peak, there’s a lot of headroom remaining in this engine. BMW has tuned it to fill in for the workhorse six that previously powered its models’ lower trim levels, not to provide high rpm thrills. Aftermarket tuners will no doubt do what BMW hasn’t, and crank this engine past, perhaps well past, 280 horsepower.

And the driveability that was clearly a priority? I’ve often felt that even a decent six sounds and feels better than a very good four. But while the voice of BMW’s new four will never be mistaken for that of one of its trademark inline sixes, it doesn’t sound like the typical four-banger, either. Instead, perhaps because of the exhaust design for the twin-scroll turbocharger (with two cylinders feeding each “scroll”), it sounds surprisingly like a boxer up to about 4,000 rpm. Not as sophisticated as a six, but sporting and decidedly less pedestrian than a conventional four. I enjoyed listening to it. At higher rpm the engine actually does begin to sound something like a six. The conservative tuning, modest amount of boost, and twin-scroll design conspire to minimize boost lag, such that aside from the occasional whine the engine isn’t obviously boosted. In casual driving it performs very well, and should even be up to the task of motivating the quarter-ton-heavier 528i (whose 3,800 pounds I haven’t sampled yet).

Still, don’t let the early peak and broad plateau of the torque curve fool you. All of the engine torque might (or might not, given the loose connection BMW’s official specs can have with reality) be present at 1,250 rpm, but there’s still not much grunt down there. After all, power remains torque multiplied by engine speed, and just above idle there isn’t much of the last. To get real power out of the engine, wind it to 4,000 rpm, beyond which point it pulls satisfyingly hard. Just not for long. By 6,000 rpm the engine is running out of breath, and you might as well shift even though the engine remains smooth for another grand.

Actually, you’ll want to shift the six-speed manual transmission. The shifter’s moderate throws terminate in each gear with a mechanical yet suitably refined snick. My only complaint: it can be difficult to rush a downshift into second, as reverse is to the left of first. Slam the lever all the way to the left and there’s no gear to pull back into. With a little finesse this problem is avoided. First gear is very short, so that 4,000 rpm kickoff is readily attained from a dead stop.

Okay, I have a second complaint. The four-mit-stick powertrain is accompanied by an automatic stop/start system. Shift into neutral and release the clutch, and the engine automatically cuts off. Depress the clutch and it automatically restarts. Saves fuel, so what’s not to love? Well, this particular implementation isn’t nearly as seamless as that in the typical hybrid, perhaps because there’s no big electric motor to smooth the transitions. You’re very aware when the engine cuts off and when it restarts, with the former feeling like you’ve somehow stalled the engine.

And fuel economy? Last year’s sDrive30i managed EPA ratings of 18 city, 28 highway. The new four easily bests these numbers, with 22 in the city and 34 on the highway (24/33 with the eight-speed automatic). During my week with the car the trip computer reported mid-20s in casual suburban driving and high-20s on the highway. Thirty-four didn’t happen, but perhaps I had a headwind.

If you’re not a poser, then your priority in buying a sports car is handling. Here the Z4 partly delights, partly disappoints, depending on the end of the car in question. The rear end delights. It’s lively without being too lively, always ready to dance, with progressive, easily-modulated oversteer just a dip of the right foot away. The car’s layout and driving position provide the sensation that the car is pivoting directly beneath your ass, which you simply cannot get even in the best sport sedans.

By process of elimination, you’ve by now gathered that the front end disappoints. It’s not bad, and certainly contributes to balanced, stable, predictable handling. But, especially compared to the tail end, it’s dull. The steering is nicely weighted, but otherwise dead. It doesn’t help that the steering wheel is far too thickly padded. Any feedback that has made its way along the steering column meets an untimely end just short of your fingertips. You’ll experience a more engaging tiller in a Toyota Yaris.

Aside from adding a couple hundred agility-killing pounds, fancy folding hard tops are expensive. The 2012 BMW Z4 starts at $49,525. Add Premium and Sport packages, as on the tested car, opt for metallic paint, and you’re looking at a $55,675 MSRP. In it’s final year a similarly-equipped first-generation Z4 would have set you back $12,000 less. About $2,600 of the difference can be chalked up to the new car’s additional feature content, based on TrueDelta’s car price comparison tool. Inflation has added about the same. The remaining $7,000 or so? That would be the top.

Of course, a Mercedes-Benz SLK introduced such a top to the segment, so it’s similarly blessed and burdened. Unfortunately, a direct comparison isn’t possible, as the 2012 SLK is available with neither a sub-300-horsepower engine nor a stick. But even with its standard 302-horsepower 3.5-liter V6 and seven-speed automatic, the Benz lists for only about a grand more, undercutting the Z4 sDrive35i with which it directly competes. In defense of the BMW, the Mercedes isn’t quite as large and, due to the presence of the SL, isn’t trying to serve as broad a swath of the roadster market. Put another way, the BMW is positioned a little higher up the automotive food chain. Similarly equip a base Porsche Boxster, and you’ll also end up at a surprisingly similar bottom line. No fancy folding hard top on the Porsche, but much better steering.

Why, exactly, did BMW fit the Z4 with a hard top? A hard top, with its weight, cost, and complexity penalties, makes most sense for a year-round daily use car. Judging from the average odometer readings reported through TrueDelta’s Car Reliability Survey, most first-generation Z4s were bought as weekend cars—the average example is driven about 6,000 miles a year (meaning for every car driven the typical 12,000+, there are one or two others that don’t often leave the garage). Has the hard top broadened the appeal of the Z4, retaining the original group of buyers while adding more who buy the car as a daily driver? With sales stumbling along at 300 a month, this gambit doesn’t appear to have worked. More likely, the original group is turned off by the disadvantages of a hard top (despite the continuing advantage of the Z4’s driving position and suspension), while the car’s otherwise roadster level of functionality continues to limit its appeal to the second.

The new turbocharged four sounds good and works quite well in the Z4, conspiring with the rear suspension to make it a fun car to drive. But with 200 fewer pounds to motivate (and a price $7,000 lower) the four would work even better, and the car would be even more fun (especially if quicker, more communicative steering were part of the package). A solution could be on the way. Even if the Z4 continues to straddle the fence between roadster and boulevardier, the long-rumored Z2 might have the Z3’s tighter focus, with the rest of the car built around the distinctive experience provided by a center of rotation directly beneath the driver and the view over that long hood. But what if you happen to be seeking a fence straddler that works fairly well in both modes, that provides classic roadster proportions and seating position without classic roadster punishment? Then BMW already has your car.

BMW provided the car with insurance and a tank of gas.

Michael Karesh operates TrueDelta.com, an online provider of car reliability and real-world fuel economy information.

If you ask a certain segment of the automotive press, it seems that BMW is rapidly losing the plot. While I agree that BMW’s latest wares are bigger, heavier and more leather-clad than ever before, I can’t say thing is a bad thing in my mind. I upset a few people when I reviewed the then-new 335is by saying “BMW is the new Mercedes”. I’m not sure why noses were “rankled”, but there seems to be a large segment of TTAC’s readership that believe BMW has abandoned “sport” for “luxury”. Maybe they are right; the M3 and M5 have been gaining weight an alarming pace and now we have the X5M and X6M, a pair of 5,400lb SUVs wearing full-on M badges. The burning question at TTAC is: should the guy responsible for designing it be committed? Or should the vehicle be put in a straight-jacket for being a totally insane machine?

From the outside the X5M looks less “M” compared to its donor model than do the M sedans. Sure there are enlarged grilles on the front, unique bumpers, and quad exhaust tips out back, but the overall form doesn’t scream “something wicked this way comes” like an M3. Helping the X5M blend into the urban jungle is the 2” hitch receiver, a first on M vehicles as is the tow rating of a healthy 6600lbs. Closer inspection however reveals the subtle tweaks to this urban assault vehicle include some seriously wide 315-series rubber out back, ginormous brakes and a plethora of radiators visible behind the large mesh grill openings.

On the inside of the X5 it will take very observant passenger to tell the difference between the go-fast model and the plebian people movers. Of course there are bespoke X5M gauges greeting the driver and the thick rimmed M steering wheel is also along for the ride. Aside from the driver’s controls however the majority of the X5M’s interior is lifted directly from the lower models. Fit and finish was excellent in our tester (as you would expect at this price) but I have to admit I was somewhat disappointed by the so-called “carbon fiber” leather trim which appears to just be black leather embossed with a carbon fiber pattern. I think some dark stained wood or brushed aluminum would be been more befitting of the X5M’s target market, but what do I know? The only toll on the interior taken by the M conversion that we observed was the loss of the third-row-seat option. If you’re a family of seven with a need for speed, you might have to wait and see if Mercedes will sell you a 7-seat ML AMG.

By now the suspense is likely killing you, after all we haven’t even mentioned the new M engine under the hood of the X5M so here we go: Turbo lovers rejoice! Squeezed under the bulging hood of the X5M beats a 4.4L twin-turbo V8 engine cranking out 555HP and a mind numbing 500 lb-ft of torque. While this engine is quite similar to the X5 xDrive50i’s 4.4L twin turbo V8, there are some significant differences, most notably the broader torque curve. The “pedestrian” 4.4L engine delivers 450lb-ft from 1750-4500RPM while the X5M’s mill broadens the torque plateau to 1500-5650 and the difference is marked behind the wheel. Power is routed to all four wheels via a heavy-duty ZF 6-speed automatic transmission, BMW’s full-tine AWD system and of course, a torque vectoring rear differential. I have seen complaints by the forum fan-boys whining that BMW didn’t put their dual-clutch M transmission under the hood of the X5M, but to me at least, the softer (and more “normal” feeling) shifts of the ZF transmission are more suitable for SUV use.

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Some years ago when I heard the first rumors about the X5M, I was concerned that BMW would make their first sports SUV rear wheel drive only. I’m sure a RWD SUV would have pleased the BMW purists in the crowd, however, the X5M may just be the sports car for the rest of us. How so? It’s all about applying the power for me. While Jaguar XFR and last generation M5 I tested were a blast to drive, both spent considerable amounts of time at the starting gates spinning their wheels. 0-60 testing a two-wheel drive high-output vehicle takes a certain amount of time and finesse to get the best possible numbers out of the vehicle. The X5M just requires a heavy right foot. The same can be said for the fun-factor of the X5M when on a windy mountain road: just mash the go pedal and hang on.

The X5M is not the best handling car I have ever driven, but it is quite possibly the most confidant. The torque vectoring rear differential helps the X5M feel like a much lighter vehicle on windy roads and the permanent AWD system means it’s easy to stomp on the throttle at just about any moment without everything going pear-shaped. For those of us that aren’t Jack Baruth, this much power needs four powered-wheels. Back to the handling; while the X5M is not a 911 on the track, it is (no kidding at all) at the top end of the handling scale in general. While on a twisty road I frequent, I let a brand new Porsche Cayman S pass (because I thought I’d slow the fun down), just to see how I’d do, I tried to keep up with the light-weight Porsche. To my surprise the X5M picked up its lederhosen and danced. While the Cayman was more nimble in the tight corners common to any coastal California road, the X5M’s massive thrust more than compensated in the short straightaways. With the right driver, on a closed course, I have little doubt the 5,400lb SUV would have spanked the bantam weight Porsche.

While the X5M weighs nearly 2400lbs more than a Cayman S PDK, our 0-60 tests revealed the BMW to be faster than all but the fastest of Stuttgart’s wares. BMW’s website quotes an official 4.5 seconds to 60, but our first run on a cool 50 degree morning yielded an eye-popping 4.05 second run. Amazed, disturbed, and incredulous we spent the next 30 minutes verifying and re-verifying our numbers. After a morning where we consumed about 15-gallons of premium dinosaur we arrived at two conclusions: The first is that the X5M has a “problem” with heat soak despite the mammoth intercoolers, and the second is that BMW is totally honest about the 4.5 second 0-60 time. What do I mean? Let’s talk numbers, our first run clocked at 4.05, our next was 4.1 and by the time we had done our 25^th back-to-back run our times had “ballooned” to 4.51 seconds which represents a variance of about 12%. What should you get out of our experimentation? Unless you are really pounding the snot out of the twin-turbo V8, you’ll pretty much always beat that guy in the Carrera 4S next to you. Need some crazier numbers? The old M5 needed 4.4 seconds to achieve the same speed (as does the M3 in manual form), making the X5M not only the fastest car we’ve tested from BMW so far, but perhaps the fastest car TTAC has tested period.

Because the concept of “launch control” on a nearly three-ton SUV with a regular-old slush-box is about as insane as the SUV itself is, we must go over the feature as it did make a 1/10^th of a second difference in the 0-60 time. Here’s how you activate it: With the vehicle stopped, you put your foot on the brake pedal, slide the shifter over to M/S mode and then use the paddle shifter to out the transmission into M1. You then need to put the stability control into MDM mode, select the sport program from for the M Engine dynamics control (these two actions can be linked to the M button on the steering wheel). You then floor the car and a little checkered flag appears in the cluster. You then let your foot off the brake pedal and the X5M takes off like a daemon possessed Chucky doll cranking out crispy shifts like a Gatling gun (as long as you don’t lift). As if common sense wasn’t enough, the manual reminds you to not use launch control while towing a trailer. We tested the X5M with a 5,000lb trailer and trust us, launch control was not required.

Competition to the X5M can of course be found from all the usual suspects: the Range Rover Sport Supercharged, the ML63 AMG, and of course the Cayenne Turbo. The Range Rover retains some of its off-roading ability making it far less capable on-road than the BMW (and not quite the same creature). By all appearances, Mercedes decided not to tackle the X5M head on with the ML63 as it’s down on power, torque and needs almost a full second more to get to freeway speeds. This leaves the Cayenne Turbo the sole competition for the X5M if you care about handling and speed. Strangely enough however, even with the brief 30 minute test drive I was able to finagle in a Cayman Turbo it was obvious the Porsche is more of a luxury SUV than a sports SUV with a more supple, less connected ride,  a transmission more willing to upshift (and gear-hunt) and a considerably larger price tag. While the Porsche represents a more refined SUV without question, the BMW is by far the performance winner. It’s also the maddest in the bunch and if the X5M was a person it would be bound in a straight-jacket and locked in a padded cell.

OK, so it’s an insane vehicle that’s crazy fast and crazy fun, but who’s it for? This is twisted logic, so stay with me here: If you are the kind of middle-class guy that has a Porsche Cayman for the daily commute, a trailer for weekend camping which, because we’re Americans and we cannot possibly tow a 1,200lb “toy hauler” with our car, also meant buying a pick-up truck, you should save yourself the garage space and buy the X5M instead. It’s a far better sports car than a Cayman, and oddly enough the 555HP and 500lbft of torque make it one of the best tow vehicles this side of a diesel F-250. The price of this joy? $95,000. Still, that’s cheaper than a Cayman and an F-250. I’ll take my straight jacket in blue please.

BMW provided the vehicle, insurance and one tank of gas for this review.

Statistics as tested

0-30: 1.35 Seconds

0-60: 4.05 Seconds

1/4 Mile: 12.6 Seconds @ 111.2 MPH

Average Fuel Economy: 15.2 MPG over 483 miles

Full-size high-end luxury convertibles that don’t have budget origins are not as common as you might think (or like). E-Class Cabrio? Too cheap. A5 Cabrio? Same problem. So if you’ve $90,000+ burning a hole in your pocket for a topless two-door what should you get?  Obviously Astons and Bentleys are out of your price range in this down economy (we all must economize after all), and you have trouble justifying the stretch to the Maserati GranTurismo Convertible’s $132,000 base price, that leaves BMW and Jaguar to battle in this broom-closet sized market. Whatever is the almost-wealthy shopper to do? Let’s find out

On the outside, the old 6-series wasn’t exactly my cup of tea, but the new model seems to be a universally good looking car according to my usual band of “Joe six-packs”. Up front the 6 wears BMW’s new corporate pedestrian friendly schnoz easily identified by the dual large grills, and overall high and flat leading surface. Continuing along the side we find sharper lines and new sheet metal give the new 6 a lower, wider look (without actually being much lower than the outgoing model) that is accentuated when the convertible top is lowered. Speaking of that top, the 6-series continues to sport a folding canvas top instead of the trendy folding hard tops. Supposedly the decision was several fold: the canvas top is lighter, changes the weight balance of the car less when it is down, it’s faster to lower/raise and can be done at speeds up to 25MPH (and of course, it’s cheaper). Of course, Jag’s XK convertible looks like sex, so on the looks front despite the BMW being very attractive; my vote is for the XK.

BMW has taken great strides with the new 6-series interior in both style and finish. The cockpit is far more “driver oriented” than the previous generation convertible and the parts all scream high-rent. The new large, high-resolution iDrive screen is the dominant feature on the dash, perched high and just about in your line of sight (in a good way). While other iDrive displays have been positioned in dedicated binacle or well-integrated into the dash, the 6’s iDrive gives the appearance of a pop-up screen without the pop. The look is well executed and makes the dash seem less “bulky” than other BMW products. This reduced bulk is needed as the high belt line and overall large proportions conspire to make average sized men feel small behind the wheel. I don’t know about you, but I don’t usually like feeling small. The $1,500 optional stitched dashboard (as our tester was equipped) visually puts the 650i’s interior in the same class as the Jaguar XKR and Aston Martin’s “budget” coupés.

Luxury cars are all about the gizmos, the 6-series continues to wear it’s crown as the reigning gadget king. The aforementioned wide-screen 10.2 inch iDrive display is as close to perfection as I have seen. People complain about iDrive being hard to use, but I find it fairly intuitive. If you are a person familiar with technology at all, you will acclimate to iDrive quickly. If however you’re trading in your old 1970s S-class convertible as part of your new life in a Floridian retirement home, you might want to bring a 14-year old with you when you need to change the AM radio station. For the rest of us, iDrive is far more elegant in look and function than Mercedes COMMAND, more feature rich than Infiniti’s setup, a decade more modern than Lexus’s nav software, more reliable than SYNC, and easier to use than Audi’s MMI. Aston Martin? They’re still stuck in the last century. Jaguar’s system is more agreeable to my tastes than COMMAND, but still a step behind Audi’s MMI and iDrive until Jaguar decides to put the XJ’s new touch screen in the smaller kitty.

New on the scene for iDrive is the new iPhone/smartphone app. I’m not entirely sure why you would need to tweet or Facebook post while you are driving, but iDrive does make it easy to accomplish both, while blasting down the freeway topless. The system will not only read your posts to you, but it will even pull information from iDrive’s phone history, navigation system and even the car’s thermometer to generate slightly personalized canned posts like “It is 65 degrees and I am driving my BMW” or “Headed to 123 Main Street” or “Spoke with Jane Doe on the phone”. While Facebook is a novelty, the web radio app is the feature that makes the $250 option worth considering. The radio app allows you to select from RadioTime.com’s list of streaming internet radio stations (Pandora lovers look elsewhere). The radio streaming worked surprisingly well even over the maligned AT&T network on my iPhone 4. The only complaint I have about the way BMW’s app works is that [on the iPhone at least] the app must be loaded and the active app in order for the car to sync, so while you can Facebook post while driving, you have to leave the app to read your text messages or control anything on the phone. For that last mile, BMW’s app allows you to continue navigating to your destination if you’ve had to park several blocks away and you can glance at your last known fuel level and distance to empty numbers.

Other than the overtly “techy” gadgets, the list of safety features and optional gadgets on the 6 is extensive. The pricey option list includes goodies like a $2,600 night vision system, $3,700 “Drive Assistance Package” which gives you a plethora of cameras, a new full-color heads up display, lane departure warning and the very trendy self-parallel-parking feature, a $1,500 seat enhancement package that gives you active seats and seat ventilation, $650 to replace the plastic knobs with ceramic, and a whopping $3,700 for the Bang & Olufsen sound system. Strangely enough BMW has not decided to create a side impact airbag system ala Volvo’s C70, a shame when the rich seem usually prepared to spend big on features to save their backside (or brain in this case).

At 400HP and 450 lb-ft, the 650i’s new 4.4L twin-turbo engine is up 40HP and 90 lb-ft compared to the outgoing 4.8L naturally aspirated engine from last year. While there is a hair of turbo lag, thanks to the twin hairdryers torque gets to the boil by 1,750 RPM and stays on strong all the way to 4500 RPM where it tapers off gradually. The new engine sends power to the rear (or all four wheels with the optional AWD) via a new 8-Speed ZF transmission. The combination of the turbos, increased oomph, and extra cogs results in the 0-60 time dropping from a quoted 5.4 to a quoted 4.9 putting the 650i in the same class as a few BMW M products I could mention and 0.4 seconds faster than the 385HP Jaguar XK’s quoted time. Of course with BMW quoted times aren’t worth much and the 650i is no different clocking in a cool 4.69 second 0-60 sprint time after time. Despite a not-insignificant weight gain due to the loss of the aluminum front end the 2011 sported, the new 6 is one seriously fast beast. The only downside to the turbo charged nature of the 650i seems to be the exhaust note, the 650i just doesn’t sound as nice as the Jaguar XK or XKR’s  5.0L V8 and this is likely due to the turbos in the exhaust stream. While the 4.4L turbo is powerful, the 650i seems to lack the urgency of some new Mercedes products with their new twin-turbo V8. Fear not speed lovers, an M6 is on the way which will surely put those fears to rest.

Out on the road the 650i convertible is a heavy car and it shows, not in the handling but the feel. The 650 just doesn’t feel as connected to the road as the Jaguar XK, likely due as much to the electric power steering as the 4,531lb curb weight. While come may complain about this, I can’t say I expect my over-two-ton convertible to be a corner carver, the 6-series is very much a GT and in this role it shines. The optional sport package (as our tester was equipped) includes active suspension, active anti-roll bars, and some seriously wide 275-width rubber out back (the fronts remain 245s). Still despite the added tech, the XKR is still the better driver’s car. The Jag is (and feels) considerably lighter on the road, the 6-speed ZF transmission is far more eager to do your bidding and the steering is far more connected and direct, not to mention the XKR’s 5.0L V8 plays one of the most amazing sound tracks available on our shores. Our readers know I’m an AWD fan and even if the 650i wasn’t loaded with all my favorite gadgets, I’d buy it over an XKR for the AWD’s year round drivability.

When it comes time to buy your fourth car (BMW tells us most 6 series buyers have at least 3-4 cars in their stable), what should you buy? This depends on what you’re after. If you care about modern gadgets and technology in your topless GT, the 650i is the hands-down winner. The 650i also slots neatly between the slightly slower Jaguar XK and the considerably faster XJR in terms of performance and price (depending on options). If however you’re after the a more engaging drive, better exhaust note and exquisite exterior style, the Jaguar XKR is the ride for you, it just won’t tweet your friends about it.

BMW provided the vehicle, insurance and one tank of gas for this review.

Statistics as tested

0-30: 1.72 Seconds

0-60: 4.69 Seconds

1/4 Mile: 13 Seconds @ 109.8 MPH

Average Fuel Economy: 17.2 MPG over 383 miles

In the highly unlikely event that my father precedes me into the grave, I will have to come up with another way to describe him besides “the late Kevin Baruth”. The old man’s never been late for something in his life. Nor has he even been a terribly, shall we say, easy-going fellow. One of the medals he received in Vietnam was, if I recall correctly, for single-handedly halting the retreat of a disorganized Marine unit after the death of said unit’s commander and forcing them to turn around and advance towards the enemy. I have no trouble imagining how this might have happened; I’d rather shoot it out with a company of NVA regulars than contradict my father.

I mention all of the above for a reason. When I tell my friends that I learned how to drive in a black 1984 BMW 733i, they say, “That’s pretty cool.” When I explain further that it was the relatively rare manual-transmission variant, they say, “That’s even cooler.” It’s difficult to make them understand that it’s tough to learn how to drive in a stick-shift car, tougher to do it in a $36,000 ($77K in today’s money) BMW, and worse yet to do it with someone sitting next to you who might, just possibly, rip your head off at any moment.

How shall we describe the “E23″ 733i? One way to describe it would be like so: in terms of size, weight, power, and transmission choice, it’s about the same as a 2011 Honda Accord EX four-cylinder. Here’s another: like every full-sized BMW since from the “New Six” to the modern 750Li, it was an alternative but inferior choice to the S-Class Mercedes, at a considerably reduced price: $36,000 compared to the $51,200 MSRP of the 1984 500SEL. That was back in the days when you paid more, and received more, for the three-pointed star. W126 Benzos are perfectly capable of traveling a million miles or more in their service lives. By contrast, most E23 Bimmers were sag-assed buy-here-pay-here fodder by the time they clocked 75k. They were disposable garbage and that’s one of the few traditions BMW continues to respect with the 7 Series until this very day.

Not that it wasn’t a joy to drive, particularly once I figured out how to operate a clutch and roll it up to highway speeds. Back in 1987, the year I turned sixteen, the average car on the street was a four-cylinder Chevrolet Celebrity, Plymouth Reliant, or Nissan Stanza. Compared to them, the 181-horsepower BMW was a rocketship with a burnished leather interior and fascinating red-lit gauges. The shifter was long-throw but it was effortless to negotiate, the brakes were powerful without being grabby, and the engine simply radiated competence and character. Derek Kriendler’s notes about the acceleration of affluence apply here as well; in 1987 a “Siebener” BMW was still a relatively rare and prestigious sight. As a teenager I felt like Someone driving it.

How did it handle? In a pair of words, not well. The aforementioned 2011 Accord EX would have no trouble showing it a clean rear bumper in a back-road battle. Not to worry, because racetrack prowess was besides the point. The purpose of the car was to rocket along the ‘bahn at an easy 130mph, sweeping the Golfs and Astras out of your path with a set of staggered-size quad halogen-beam headlamps. Sadly, we didn’t get those here due to US regulations and had to make do instead with the normal DOT-legal small round quads. One feature that BMW would have been smart to leave in Europe: the ridiculous Michelin TRX metric wheels and tires. Many a BMW owner, including my father, discovered to their sorrow that tires for the 390mm BMW TRX wheels were difficult to find and insanely expensive when you could find them.

The US-spec E23s also suffered from big, ungainly impact bumpers that completely trivialized the “shark nose” profile shared with its far more iconic 633i sibling. Nor were we permitted to have the 745i, which wasn’t a 4.5L at all but simply a turbo 3.2 six. Perhaps the best E23 was the South African exclusive “M7″ normally-aspirated 745i which replaced the turbo twelve-valver with the fabulous 24-valve six also found in the M6 and M5.

This was the era when BMW had driver-angled center stacks, and I’m embarrassed to admit that I was very impressed by this as a child. Back then, most cars still had wide, flat dashboards. Hell, the Porsche 911 didn’t even have a full console back then, but the BMW 733i certainly did. It was cool, and it seemed special at the time. BMW might do well to re-differentiate itself from the competition by reintroducing the angled center stack.

BMW’s relentless efforts to revise history have painted the mid-Eighties as a seamless part of the company’s inexorable rise to prominence, but at the time the Munich men seemed a little adrift. The 3-Series was at its all-time low point (the eight-valve 318i), the Five was stuck with the 127-horsepower “eta” low-rev six, and the Seven was the car you see above, a distant also-ran to the almighty W126. The products weren’t compelling, the marketing was ridiculously faux-upscale, and the Acura Legend was about to debut and make the mid-size Germans seem a bit over-priced and under-specified. It wasn’t a foregone conclusion at all that BMW would succeed, really.

Faced with this dismal situation, the company started working on quick-fixes. The 325e showed that the 528e’s lackluster six could shine in a smaller car, while the 533i and succeeding 535i pulled the same trick on a bigger, faster scale. A slightly de-powered 256-horsepower variant of the M1 six-cylinder found a home in the M5 and M6, and BMW won the race to put a twelve-cylinder in a German luxury car with the E32 750il. It was all uphill from there.

If the 733i failed to make a terribly lasting impression on the market, it certainly made one on my father. He drove a succession of black BMWs over the years to come, interrupted by the occasional Jaguar or Infiniti, before returning to BMW for his current 528i. I was annoyed that he didn’t buy a 550i or at least a 535i, but he points out that it has more features than the old 733i, costs less in current money, and is a little bit faster. “Fast enough to get me to the airport on time” he notes. Not that I would expect him to ever arrive late.

Despite what Frank Greve might tell you, some automotive journalists (well, automotive writers anyway. Car writers. Hacks.) don’t have gleaming new cars dropped off curbside, with caviar and champagne in the cupholders and an eight-ball of coke in the glovebox. Instead, a jobbing freelancer such as myself usually has to hoof it on the ol’ public transit network to wherever the fleet cars are kept, staring out the window at people picking their noses in Toyota Corollas and pretending not to notice the pressure on my thigh as the portly, odiferous gentleman on my left overflows his seat.

This time though, BMW being so far out of the way, I grabbed a lift from a friend in a track-prepped, bright orange Lotus Elise. I have never indulged in methamphetamines, but now I no longer need to: never mind road feel, that car was effectively fifteen miles of licking the tarmacadam.

After such a Habanero sorbet, the drive back in the BMW was fairly muted. Ho-hum, another big heavy heffalump with a fancy badge on the nose and an options pricing list that reads like the GDP of Belgium. Right? Next morning at the on-ramp: um, actually no. This thing’s a rocket.

Despite the safe beige colour of my tester, perhaps I should have got a whiff of this tendency for velocitous extramuralisation from its pugnacious stance. The new X3 is flared out, lowered, blocky and creased, making the corporate twin-kidney grille resemble nothing so much as the nostrils of a French bulldog. I like it quite a lot: there’s a smidgen of 1-series M Coupe in here, possibly because they both have such stupidly long names.

Best of all, while this new X3 has swelled by a few inches in all directions to make market room for the upcoming X1 (already available up here in the Great White North), it hasn’t been on the usual Nick Riviera Diet for Dangerously Underweight Individuals. Unlike other BMWs – the 5-series GT hits the chocotastic group so hard it should come with an available MUMU paint code – the X3 pulls the shades on the window to weight-gain, although optioning-out the turbo model will put you up two hundred pounds over the out-going model in base, manual transmission configuration.

More about that heft later, let us first slide into a cockpit furnished in the only the finest of rubberized cows. Apparently from the same polymerized herd that provides Angus beef to McDonald’s, the pleather interior in the X3 is pleasing to the touch and assuredly going to be wipe-down durable if this is your kid-hauler, but for $50K+ is its hard-wearing surface better than leather? Maybe. Yeah, and maybe I’m a Chinese jet fighter pilot.

Then again, the rest of the spartan cockpit of the X3 is really quite good. If I might voice a dissenting opinion on the usually-lambasted iDrive, I actually don’t mind it as a control device. I’m sure more than the usual week-long exposure provided by a review might prove it completely livable, if not quite Apple-grade intuitive. If you can’t stand it, all the radio and HVAC functions have redundancies on the centre stack and steering wheel.

Cargo-wise, and I assume that’s why you’re considering this yoke over a 3-series sedan, there’s plenty of head-and-legroom in the back seats. The trunk is big enough for things and/or stuff. A dog should fit, or maybe even one of those modern strollers that’s like a medieval siege tower with handlebars, although you’d probably have to hack the legs off of Fido to accommodate both.

But enough of this hum-drum Consumer Reports clipboard checking. If you wanted a pure family hauler, you’d have a Dodge Grand Caravan and a ex- Iwo Jima Marine’s thousand-yard-stare. This is a BMW: mach schnell!

Gripping the BMW’s hefty tiller (everyone in Bavaria must have mitts like Paul Bunyan), I face down the most idiotic on-ramp in the Western hemisphere: 5-degrees short of a T-Junction, at the bottom of a blind hill. As per usual, some trembling poltroon has pootled down to the the end of it and stopped dead in a rabbit-freeze panic. They misjudge, meander out and nearly receive a fifteen-ton Peterbuilt enema. I’m about fifty feet back, watching for a suitable gap.

Go.

Shrugging off its 4222lb curb weight, the Bimmer leaps forward with a surprisingly enthusiastic exhaust note, the 8-speed auto-box snapping off the gears with engaging rapidity. Forget the UV part, this thing hauls some serious S. Figure a 5-point-something sprint to 60mph and the quarter in the low-14s: enough to quash the boy racers.

To the heart of the matter, that amazing straight-six turbo engine. Where the 335i’s power-plant is twin-turbocharged, the X3 puts out pretty much the same power with just a single snail hanging off the exhaust manifold.

With a mesa-flat torque-peak from 1300rpm and up, its incredibly responsive twin-scroll turbo is more proof that we’re entering a second golden age of forced induction. After a week of boost, I was trying to figure out how to turbocharge the lawn-mower, the dishwasher, the Cuisinart… the cat caught me holding a dustbuster and looking at it speculatively and wisely buggered off tout suite.

Naturally, some credit also has to be given to the octo-tranny. Here though, despite what certain late-70s sitcoms might have you believe, eight is more than enough. While great when you put your boot in it and, above 30mph, slick as the salesperson who talked you into the optional $800 metallic paint charge, it’s a bit fussy around town. The shifts aren’t rough, and the X3 has plenty of low-end poke, but it is a little disconcerting to be already in fourth gear a heartbeat after leaving the line. It’s like riding shotgun with someone short-shifting at 1500 revs: a trifle jerky.

Flicking the shifter into “sport” mitigates the effect, but if you like to downshift to engine-brake, you’ll find yourself having to hit it repeatedly to come down from the higher gears. Coming off the freeway, I was hammering at the control like a whack-a-mole.

These are minor quibbles, and I’ve another: the electrically-assisted steering is… well, “numb” would be an overstatement, but certainly there’s not all the feel there that one could wish. Essentially the X3 is so well-balanced and handles so nicely, that I’d prefer just a tiny bit more BMW 3-Series flavour.

All is forgiven because they fixed the ride. The old X3′s feet of clay were its legs of concrete. Specifically, someone seemed to have constructed the suspension out of granite, bits of old cathedrals and depleted uranium. The new one is immeasurably better: it’s still firm in a German way, but instead of a foaming-mouthed scream of, “Ve haff ways of makink you talk!” every time you hit an expansion joint, it’s simply communicative. “Zo, tell me a little about yourself.”

Verdict then: really, I only have one problem with the X3, but let me leave that ’til last. It’s quick enough to be entertaining, roomy enough to be practical, priced well enough to fit into your driveway at a minor premium above less aspirational metal (and given BMW’s leasing programs, probably at a payment par with optioned-out prole-wagons), rides well enough to be a good tourer and isn’t even that expensive to keep in high-test. In short, it’s a Bayerische Motoren that really Werkes.

The only problem with the X3? The guaranteed sales success Bimmer’s going to see with this chariot means we’re never going to see a 335is wagon. Sad trombone.

BMW provided the vehicle and insurance for this review.

With the 2004 X3, BMW offered a compact SUV a half-decade ahead of other German car manufacturers. So not long after Audi and Mercedes have introduced their first such vehicle BMW has an all-new second-generation X3. The first-generation X3 had its strengths, but its weaknesses tended to outweigh them, especially in the U.S. market. The larger X5 has outsold it on this side of the Atlantic many times over despite a higher price. Has BMW learned enough in the past seven years to address these weaknesses and keep ahead of the new competition?

Though its U.S. launch is delayed, an even more compact X1 is already available in Europe. To make room for it, and to fill the void created when the X5 was enlarged three years ago, the new X3 has gained three inches of length and an inch of width (but, unlike other recently redesigned BMWs, less than 50 pounds of weight). The new X3’s exterior styling strongly resembles the original’s, but more substantial and refined surfaces help it appear more up-to-date, more solid, and more worthy of a lofty Monroney. The creases over the wheel openings seem extraneous, but at least they’re subtle. The body rides lower over the wheels, for a more car-like stance, perhaps because BMW figured out that few (if any) X3 owners were venturing off the road or even wanted to look like they might. (According to the specs, there’s actually a half-inch more ground clearance, so the mechanical bits must be tucked in more tightly.) The X5 continues to appear brawnier, thanks to more muscular fenders. The Audi Q5 is prettier, while the Mercedes-Benz GLK appears more rugged, but the X3 looks the sportiest of the three when fitted with suitable wheels.

The original X3 was roundly slammed for its cut-rate cabin. A mid-cycle refresh upgraded materials, and the 2011 is another step up. The new interior looks and feels more substantial. Unlike the 2004’s, it’s on par with that of the contemporary 3-Series. There are more curves than inside most other current BMWs, even a bit of the driver-orientation for which the marque’s instrument panels used to be known, but there’s still much less style for the sake of style than you’ll find elsewhere. And yet the controls are too unconventional and too complicated to award any prizes for functionality. Even the shifter, the monostatic sort BMW has been putting in everything, feels odd and requires more conscious attention than a shifter ought to.

Inside the larger, lower-riding body there’s over an inch more headroom, 1.5 inches more front shoulder room, and an inch more rear legroom (unless you’re very tall, you’ll fit). These differences don’t sound like much, but the feeling from the driver’s seat is much different. The new X3 seems roomier, but even more than this it seems like a larger, more substantial vehicle. And a bit more car-like as well (if still notably less so than the Audi). Credit a higher beltline and a less upright, more distant windshield flanked by thicker pillars. The driver’s seat is standard BMW fare, so very supportive and comfortable, but not cushy. Unlike in the new 5-Series, the optional sport seats include power-adjustable side bolsters, so there’s no need to compromise lateral support for many of us in order to provide enough space for XXL drivers.

The specs suggest cargo volume is down, from 71.0 cubic feet to 63.3. But BMW’s literature claims it’s actually up by 15 percent. Apparently the method used to measure cargo volume changed. Cases like this are why I never have much faith in cargo volume specifications—there are too many variables and no fixed standards, even within a given manufacturer. My eyes say the new X3 is competitive in this area.

The BMW X3 was initially offered with a 2.5-liter as well as a 3.0-liter inline six, but the former was dropped years ago. For 2011, the retuned six loses 20 horsepower, for a total of 240, but is also available in 300 horsepower turbocharged form. The unboosted six provides decent performance, but doesn’t feel as strong or sound as sonorous as the 265-horsepower V6 in the Audi Q5. The turbo easily blows by both of them, with an audible whoosh. As in other BMWs, this engine feels much stronger than its official 300-horsepower rating. In this segment, only the 325-horsepower turbocharged inline six that will be available in the 2012 Volvo XC60 R-Spec can hope to keep up. My suspicion: the Volvo won’t be quite as quick, partly because of gearing, but its six will sound better. The BMW six doesn’t sound bad, but the Volvo’s voice is lovely.

A manual transmission is no longer available in the X3. The automatic is an eight-speed unit that can get a bit busy, especially with the base engine. Unless your foot is deep in the throttle little time is spent in the first two gears. Thanks to the extra ratios, electric-assist steering, and a clutched alternator, fuel economy is up, from 17/24 to 19/25 for the xDrive28i and 19/26 for the xDrive35i (yes, the stronger engine actually does equally well in the city and a bit better on the highway).

With its reduced ride height and almost exactly 50:50 weight distribution, the new X3 feels more balanced and more composed through curves than the nose-heavy, less tightly damped Audi Q5, next best in the segment for chassis dynamics (unless Volvo has worked wonders with the 2012 XC60 R-Spec). To be (un)fair, BMW provided a Q5 without the optional “DriveSelect” adjustable steering and adaptive shocks. Typical of the marque, the BMW can be placed very precisely and rarely surprises. Driving it quickly soon becomes far more intuitive than the iDrive control system can ever hope to be.

Both tested X3s were fitted with the $1,400 Dynamic Handling Package, while includes “variable sport steering,” “performance control,” adaptive shocks, and a button to vary these bits, the throttle, and the transmission among three settings. “Performance control” modulates the brakes to provide a hint of oversteer through turns. It cannot be turned off, both 2011 X3s I drove had it, so I cannot attest how much difference it makes. “Variable sport steering” isn’t the same as active steering. Instead of being able to vary the ratio continuously and at any time, the ratio simply quickens as the wheel approaches the lock. This system is simpler and more predictable, but cannot dramatically vary the ratio on center the way active steering can. The selectable modes affect the firmness of the steering, but more at highway speeds than below 40. No matter what the setting, the X3’s steering feels more artificial and provides less nuanced feedback than the outstanding conventional system in the Audi Q5.

Ride quality was the second glaring weakness of the original X3, and probably the main reason people initially interested in the small SUV didn’t end up buying one. The 2011 rides much more smoothly, at least when fitted with the adaptive shocks (and quite likely without them as well). The different modes make little difference here; in “Sport+” impacts are a little sharper, but the ride remains comfortable. In “Normal” the ride can feel a touch underdamped on some roads; “Sport” strikes a nice compromise. The downside of the improved ride: combine the more compliant suspension with the artificial steering and the less intimate driving position, and the new X3 feels larger, less agile, and less direct than the original. There’s less wind and road noise than in the Audi, but this says more about the Q5 than the X3.

The 2011 BMW X3 xDrive28i starts at $37,625, $2,100 less than the 2010. According to TrueDelta’s car price comparison tool, the new SUV also includes over $800 in additional standard features, for a total price reduction of nearly $3,000. The xDrive35i starts at $41,925, and its standard xenon headlights and wood trim account for $1,400 of the difference at BMW prices, leaving $2,900 for the turbocharger. The upshot: once features (not including the engine) are adjusted for, the new xDrive35i costs about the same as last year’s much less powerful, fatally flawed vehicle.

These being BMWs, adding options quickly leaves these base prices in the dust. A half dozen packages and metallic paint bumped the tested 28i and 35i to $50,775 and $54,075, respectively. And, lacking the premium audio system, the head-up display, and the M Sport Package, these weren’t even fully loaded.

Comparably equip an Audi Q5 3.2, and it’s over $3,000 more than the xDrive28i and about even with the xDrive35i. The Infinity EX35 is the segment’s budget buy, checking in about $6,000 below a comparably-equipped X3 xDrive35i. Adjusting for remaining feature differences cuts the difference to about $4,400. The Infiniti is much more cramped inside and feels a bit dated at this point, so this premium seems warranted. As premium compact SUVs go, the new X3 is attractively priced.

The 2011 BMW X3 addresses the two glaring weaknesses of the original—interior materials and ride quality—while looking and feeling more refined and substantial. A new, much less fatal flaw: despite (or perhaps because of) extensive electronic wizardry, the X3’s steering lacks the natural, wonderfully nuanced feel of the Q5’s. For this one reason I enjoyed driving the Audi more. But by any objective measure, and nearly any subjective measure as well, the second time is the charm.

The vehicles for this review were made available at an event for BMW owners.

Michael Karesh operates TrueDelta, an online source of automotive pricing and reliability data.

BMW loves America, and to prove it, BMW is sending us a North American exclusive sports coupé and convertible. No, it is not some fabulous concept car turned production, its last year’s 335i cranked up a notch with some M3 parts and an exhaust system that’s too loud to be sold in the EU tossed in for good measure. Does that make the 335is the perfect 3 series? BMW tossed us the keys to one for a week to find out.

Before we talk about the 335is, we need to talk about the refreshed 2011 3 series first. Since the 3 series has remained largely unchanged since 2007, BMW decided a mid-cycle refresh was in order. For 2011, all 3 series coupés and convertibles get a new nose, new headlamps with new LED “angel eyes,” some new tail lamps, rear bumper tweaks and some rocker panels. As a result of the rhinoplasty, the 2011 model gains an inch and a half over the previous model making it the longest 3 series ever (3.5” longer than the sedan). Inside the changes are essentially limited to the instruction of the latest generation of iDrive and some new paddle shifters on models with that option.

The biggest change BMW has made for 2011 is under the hood, and here is where 335is owners will have some explaining to do on autocross days: The 2011 335i has traded in its twin-turbo setup for a new twin-scroll single turbo setup ala Volvo’s T6 engine. The twin-scroll design uses two exhaust gas inlets on the turbine side of the turbocharger, one each for of three cylinders. BMW says that this increases turbo response and improves efficiency. The new “N55” engine in the 335i delivers the same power output as the former “N54”engine in 2007-2010 335i models, but does so with greater efficiency and a slightly better torque curve. The N55 also brings BMW’s Valvetronic system to the party offering not just variable valve timing, but variable valve lift.

Now here’s where things get a bit complicated: the 335i uses the new N55 engine, the 335is uses a lightly reworked version of the N54 (twin-turbo) engine producing 320HP and 332lb-ft (with an overboost function boosting the torque to 370ft-lbs for 7 seconds) vs the 335i’s 300HP/300lb-ft. Big deal you say? Two words: aftermarket tuning. I am told by an aftermarket chip company that the N54 has a far greater mod potential than the new N55 engine. There are a number of companies out there than will take an N54 engine up to 400+ HP and 400+ lb-ft of torque. For those wanting M3 performance on a “budget” the 335is is now the new foundation.

Compared to the plebeian 335, the “s” gets you a more sculpted front and rear bumper with large cooling vents placed where foglights reside in the regular 335, and a blacked out front grille. Out back there is a sports exhaust system which BMW claims to be unique to the 335is, but forum fans indicate it is available as an aftermarket accessory from BMW. Under the hood the cooling system has gone supersized with a high output fan, upgraded oil cooler, an auxiliary radiator and widened openings in the front bumper.

All this is included because BMW assumes 335is buyers will track their car on weekends, so they need the extra grunt and the stay-cool-bits. Lest we forget the important part, the 335is carries a $7,000 larger price tag. (When adjusted for standard equipment, the premium is around $4,000) Anyone notice something missing? That’s right: no brake upgrades. This is the chink in the 335is’ armour. Basically BMW has created a car that goes faster and handles slightly better with the capacity to drive the car harder, but did nothing to improve the stoppers. Given the extra shove the 335is provides, this is a problem on windy mountain roads where I managed to get the brakes overheated without actually trying. I’m not sure I’d want to track this puppy without addressing the brakes in some manner.

Inside the 335is there are fewer differences from the 335i. The “s” brings the 7 speed DCT transmission from the M3 (with fewer modes however) vs the 6 speed slushbox, an M steering wheel and short shift 6 speed transmission with an M shift lever and some faux-snake skin aluminium dash trim. Other than that the interior is stock 3 series, which is not a bad place to be. The Dakota leather seats are very comfortable, the up-level Harmon Kardon sound system hits all the right notes, and although our tester was a pre-production model without cruise control of any sort, BMW’s web site claims all 335is models will have radar adaptive cruise control standard. Also standard on the 335is, like all 3 series models are just about the worst cup holders available on this continent. I seriously want to know who thought the flimsy pop-out cup holders that are both miles away from the driver, and cause ingress/egress problems for front passengers were a good idea? Gadget hounds will love the new 4th generation iDrive with the high resolution screen and 3D effect navigation maps, and they will probably rave over the automated seat-belt-hander-thing that pops out of the rear. Personally, a car that hands me my seatbelt kind of creeps me out.

On the road, the 335is behaves basically the same as the 335i with the M sport suspension, which makes sense since that’s what it is. Power delivery is effortless, grip is substantial and damping is firm. The 335is equipped with the BMW DCT truly shines; the shifts are not only crisp and practically perfect, but 0-60 times are greatly improved. BMW quotes the standard 335i as 0-60 in 5.3 (manual) and 5.5 (automatic) while the 335is clocks in at 5.1 (manual) which is only a slight improvement, but 5 seconds flat when equipped with the 7-speed dual clutch transmission. What makes this stat impressive is when you consider that this is 5 seconds flat repeatable every time, with perfect launches. After some practice runs I was able to eek a hair under 5.4 seconds (no rollout) to 60 with the 6-speed manual transmission. Apparently I should not quit my day job and race for a living. In my defence however, at these power levels the road surface is your greatest enemy, had the road surface been perfect I’m sure I would have hit 5.2.

On large oval tracks, owners will notice the “s” model gets you a top speed limited to 150 vs the standard 130 (335i models with the M sport package also have a 150MPH limiter), but it’s not the top speed that makes the 335is a great car at the end of the day: It’s the fact that BMW has made an able highway cruiser that handles and accelerates well enough for an occasional weekend at a BMW owners club event. Purists will deride the lack of upgraded brakes, which did bother me, until I came to the realisation that BMW is truly the new Mercedes. Chock full of electronic gizmos, widgets and nannies, well executed designs and high-quality interior parts; this is exactly what I would want Mercedes to make. Except Mercedes would have probably given me decent cup holders.

Readers who are following TTAC on Facebook were given the opportunity to ask reader questions of the 335is. If you would like to ask questions of car reviews in progress, or just follow TTAC, checkout our facebook page. FB fans, here are your answers. Tony J: With our G-Tech accelerometer based performance meter, I recorded a skidpad of .88-.89Gs on an approximately 300ft skidpad (open parking lot). I have seen reviews as high as .93, so road surface of course plays a huge role here. Patrick C: Yes, it actually will do a burnout, fairly easily I might add. Richard M: I drove the 335i to the community pool, but was denied entry.

BMW provided the vehicle, insurance and one tank of gas for this review.

In this day and age, BMW’s identity crisis justifies a psychological hotline. Ever since Mercedes beat BMW in defining the midsize-luxury-SUV segment with its successful ML, the Bavarian automaker is having a separation anxiety of sorts, racing to create new and increasingly eyebrow-raising niches. The X3 may have invented the premium-compact SUV, but the X6 and the recent 5 GT have been trying to answer questions no one really asked.

You’d expect the X1’s nomenclature to indicate its roots lie in the compact 1 series, but the X1 is actually a chopped 3 series Touring (same wheelbase, different overall length), which makes the X3 the ugly duckling of the BMW family. Expensive and outdated, the X3 is less than 5 inches longer than the new X1, meaning the next generation of the sandwich child of the X series will have to get a serious bump in size and kit to justify the price increase over its baby brother. When it does – likely in 2011 – the X1 will also arrive stateside.

The exterior of the X1 is almost as confused as its identity. Up front, the X-junior bears BMW’s new upright kidney grill. Coupled with the bulbous bumper from the 1 series, the result isn’t completely unattractive – but definitely polarizing. The back is influenced by the 5 GT, with an uncanny resemblance to the E32 7 series, but the way the X1’s design elements connect is what makes it a bit of an odd bird. The proportions are strange, and they aren’t helped by the profile line sweeping from the front to the back – which is handsome on the new 5 series, but feels busy on the compact hatchback that the X1 fundamentally is.

Thankfully, the X1 still provides at least some core BMW experience. The seats are comfortable and grippy, and the thick, neatly stitched steering wheel falls comfortably into the driver’s hands. The driving position is also much closer to a conventional car than a true crossover – so that fans of the genre may be a little disappointed.

The rest of the cabin gets the basics right: everything in eye-level is fairly pleasing to the eye and touch, but as you go down you will discover flimsy plastics not worthy of a car of this caliber. There’s nothing here to make you feel particularly luxurious, and the general design of the cabin is a little dull – even BMW’s signature gearlever is replaced by a run of the mill stick. Annoyingly, there isn’t even a proper armrest.

The newest member of the X series does, however, get the practicalities right. Four passengers will be comfortable and so will their luggage – a huge improvement over the cramped 1 series. At almost 15 cubic feet, the X1’s trunk is smaller than the standard 3 series’. It is, however, significantly more comfortable to load, thanks to the practical benefits of the rear hatch and the slightly raised ride height.

Call me mad, but I’ve actually taken the baby-X to some mild offroading, and imminently proven that the X1 – and its expensive looking bumpers in particular – is allergic to as much as moderate potholes. And unless you don’t live in a country as sunny as mine, you really don’t need xDrive – BMW speak for 4 wheel drive – the car’s minimal clearance will probably limit it much quicker than treacherous mud will.

The X1’s natural habitat is the road, where it offers a good (but mixed) experience. The ride is bad. Blame BMW’s beloved low profile runflat tires for that. In moderately slow driving the X1 feels bumpy and crashes on minor asphalt imperfections, while in higher speeds and flatter roads the experience improves significantly – wind and tire noises are kept at bay, too.

Other than that, the X1 drives like a BMW should, with weighty hydraulically-assisted steering that’s not to anyone’s liking – especially not in town and during parking maneuvers. Thankfully, it’s also accurate and communicative, greatly contributing to a driving experience that’s very close to its road focused sibling. Body roll is minimal and the brakes are excellent, both in pedal feel and bite retention. The well-praised six speed ZF gearbox is well-praised here too, with a smooth and decisive action, but tap-shifters are sorely missed for spirited driving.

The engine is a mixed bag too. With 177 brake horsepower on tap, it won’t set this BMW’s tires alight (or puncture them, for that matter), but 258 lb-ft of torque have their way of getting this crossover to 60 in about 8.5 seconds on paper. Off paper, it feels quicker once the turbocharger kicks in at about 1,500 RPM. But then there’s that John Deere identity issue. The diesel clatter, which is well silenced in the rest of BMW’s diesel-sipping offerings, is present not only while the engine is cold, but also during moderate accelerations, almost never letting you forget it’s down there, and it won’t take regular unleaded without a fight.

Casting a verdict on the BMW X1 isn’t a “good car, bad car” affair as with most cars, because you have to put it in context, and right now you can’t. BMW want us to believe that their newest crossover is the opening shot in a new and busy segment which will be populated by the upcoming Audi Q3 and Land Rover LRX, but as of the present, the X1 can’t be readily compared to any vehicle on the market.

Even more confusingly, the X1 isn’t a bad car – it handles well and has some practical edges. The downsides – a mediocre cabin, iffy ride comfort with the stock runflat tires, and noisy engine – place it closer to the 1 series in the BMW quality hierarchy. In the end, it all boils down to pricing. UK pricing of the X1 place it close in price to an equally equipped 3 series sedan, but significantly cheaper than the more spacious 3 series touring.

In this price range the X1 can make sense for people looking for added practicality and raised ride height, who are willing to sacrifice some refinement and cabin quality. But it also comes mighty close in price to the larger Audi Q5, which makes me wonder: is there really a place for another sub-niche in the niche of the century?

BMW is rapidly becoming the Swiss Army Knife of automobile brands. Elegant and well-trained coupes, estates and sedans? Check. Interested in CUVs of both respectable and questionable utility? They got you covered. Though the X6 and 5-series Gran Tourismo are answers to a question nobody asked, the smaller, racier 750i Sport treads dangerously into well established 5-series territory. And while the 5-er and 7-er’s pasts are more than a little intertwined, should history repeat itself?

Yes, if the sheet metal changes to the latest 7 are any indication. The latest 750i is a more refined piece than it’s E65-bodied predecessor. Yesteryear’s Bangle Butt is thankfully, mercifully absent from the posterior, replaced with the boxy butt and conservatively sculpted taillights that signify the refined styling of a proper luxury saloon. Even the outgoing model’s po-faced nose of is replaced with brash BMW kidney grilles, flowing fenders and a muscular hood bulge. But this isn’t an ostentatious S-class Benz, as tight wheel arches, the classic Hofmeister kink and 19” M-spec wheels make the 750i a performance oriented luxury sedan. Lose the garish fender vents and call it done.

And the leather-wrapped interior makes it work. The latest 7-series sports a cabin worthy of its lofty asking price and Teutonic design heritage. The chrome accents are from a metal-like substance, and a gifted artist is responsible for the inside door releases. There’s plenty of brilliantly grained wood trim that, unlike the S-class and LS460, is arranged in a manner that doesn’t draw attention to itself. And the heavenly seats are contoured for maximum comfort and modest lateral support. If an automotive ambiance ever mirrored a Hollywood movie, this one’s an Oceans Eleven.

Then again, this is a BMW: in lieu of a real shift knob and intuitive ancillary controls, the 750i sports a new-ish iDrive system and a gear selector resembling a melted Nintendo Wii remote control. Then again, the iDrive’s user interface and screen size is far superior to older versions. Which is like saying Windows 7 can’t be any worse than Vista at first glance. At this rate, BMW will come full circle to the E38’s moderate buttonage by 2020. One can hope.

But even the most Bangled of Bimmers from the current millennia was a genuine pleasure to drive on the most challenging road, with room for plenty of cargo and passengers. So raising the bar for latest tuned, tweaked and twin turbocharged 750i Sport is logical.

The 750i Sport is the most driver-involving sedan in its class: there’s nothing like a beefy V8, especially one with torque-rich turbochargers keeping the power down low, never letting go until 407 horses reach redline in any of six gears. Aside from zee Germans (seemingly) mandatory throttle delay at tip in, the 750i Sport is a rewarding powertrain that’s both sublime and brutal. If this is a harbinger for the forthcoming M5’s motor, the best is yet to come.

But the 750i’s demeanor feels inferior to previous generations of BMW’s flagship. Thanks to steering feel with the consistency of mashed potatoes, turn-in is muted to the point of delayed reaction. Which is apparent while the sound of the sandpaper textured, leather wrapped tiller rotates in your hands, doing it’s damnedest to replicate the kicks of a chorus line in nylon running suits.

Overall, that’s just a minor quibble: the 750i Sport corners BMW-flat and true on any urban road, with endless grip and seating that both coddles and cuddles its occupants in that sporting luxury known by every generation of Bavaria’s biggest sedan. With pavement joints transmitting muted bangs and bumps throughout the cabin, the ride isn’t as effortless as an S-class. Not pleased? Give the long wheelbase, conservatively sprung, 7-series a spin before leaving for the Lexus dealer.

But there’s still a fly in the ointment: BMW’s marketing ploy called EfficientDynamics. One trick up their sleeve, the “Brake Energy Regeneration” system, relieves stress associated with hyper-complex automotive electronic systems: like Toyota’s Hybrids, the big Bimmer uses energy from the brakes to recharge the battery, unloading the alternator and the engine bolted to it. And that (marginal) improvement on fuel economy nets an artificial, non-linear brake pedal in parking lot maneuvers. Which launches everyone in the passenger compartment forward with a touch of the stoppers. That might be worth the trouble, if this whip netted impressive fuel economy figures.

But 15 MPG on premium fuel is the opposite of efficient. While the Marketing Science behind BMW’s EfficientDynamics begs to differ, this car is a remarkably well-crafted, twin-turbocharged pavement pounder that straddles the line between a sporty 5-series and a decadent 7-series. And nothing more. Which works: buy a Cobalt XFE if you want to save the world from unabashed consumerism, and tell Bavaria to keep the tree huggers away from the flagship 7-series.

Stop typing in the comments section about how another BMW won another comparison. If the BMW came second fiddle to the Audi or the Jaguar, you would be typing that the BMW got second only because it got first so many times before, and we were wrong. So first, second or last, the BMW gets this ranking based on merit, as I see it. Drive the top three, decide on your own. However, if I were to spend my hard earned money, I would purchase the “Ultimate Driving, all weather Sedan”, the BMW 535xi.

This car may be magnificent to drive, but unfortunately, the 5-series was the BMW most mangled by Bangle, who festooned it with a boatload of ineffective and downright silly styling details, such as the “flame surfaced” headlight treatment, the slab sides, and the quizzically-upturned taillights. Still, the 535xi, in profile, it evokes the proper BMW proportioning, and as a bonus, the build quality rivals your average Rolex. One highlight: the $3,000 M Sport package, which includes M5-lookalike body panels and wheels, plus wonderful multi-contour sport seats.

Inside, the styling story isn’t much better. The 5-series’ interior was a strange, austere cave when it first came out in 2003, and while it was restyled and given richer materials over the years, it still looks awkward when compared to the beautiful cabins in the Mercedes, Jaguar, Audi…. ok, so BMW crafted the weirdest interior of the test, but that’s like saying “The Bachelor” has no pretty women to choose from. The first thing the driver sees when he climbs in is the unsightly hump on the top of the dashboard, which is there to accommodate the navigation, climate and radio displays. Newer designs, such as the Cadillac CTS, instruct on how to integrate this sort of thing without the hump. Instead of enveloping the driver, the 535xi’s dash seems to curve away at the corners. The effect is odd, to say the least.

Then there’s IDrive. No more to be said about IDrive.

But the news isn’t all bad inside – materials and assembly are impeccable, the instrumentation is brilliantly simple and stylish, the switchgear feels aviation-grade The sport seats (part of the M-Sport package) are dead solid perfect – comfortable, highly adjustable, and supportive in any driving situation without being too constrictive. The 535xi’s rear compartment constricts legrrom but the seats themselves are well-shaped and extremely comfortable.

With the styling demerits out of the way, the driver can focus on what really counts: the drive, and that starts with what may well be the best all-around powerplant in the world. The basic unit is BMW’s classic 3.0 liter straight six, featuring direct fuel injection and BMW’s Double Vanos variable valve timing; the star of the show, though, is the twin-turbo system. Unlike turbo engines of old (or the ones in 2009 Saabs), which were out to lunch until the boost kicked in at 3500 rpm or so, the 535xi’s system delegates power and torque responsibilities to individual turbos; the smaller one handles boosts torque at low speeds, and the larger one handles high-rpm power. 

The results are amazing: instant, pin-you-back-in-your-seat power off the line, a remarkably broad power curve (peak torque is at a Peterbilt-like 1400 rpm), big-time thrust available at any speed, and absolutely no turbo lag. Add in the all-wheel-drive system, and the 535xi simply picks itself up from a standstill and leaves…quickly. Instrumented tests reveal a 0-60 time of 5.5 seconds, but the 535xi feels even quicker than that. As a bonus, the 3.0 has an exquisitely refined exhaust note, and it is respectably efficient (16/25 per the EPA).

Diesel, Schmiesel – here’s your engine of the future, ladies and gents.

The 535xi can be ordered with a six-speed manual transmission – unique to this class – but the test vehicle was equipped with a six-speed automatic with a an excellent sequential shift function. Purists may prefer the manual, but the 535xi’s six speed felt a lot like the four-speed on my dad’s old 733i: slightly rubbery, with a too-long throw and excessive clutch travel. Given that instrumented tests found a minimal difference in acceleration, I’ll offer myself up as a heretic and recommend the automatic, especially with the paddle shift option.

Toss a challenging road at the 535xi, and it responds like Emmitt Smith carving up a defense in his prime. The key is its’ gem of a steering rack: sharp, precise, and communicative. The chassis is set up almost flawlessly to balance ride and handling, and the brakes feel bionic. All this makes the 535xi the best in class by far on a challenging road. On the highway, the 535xi trails the Mercedes and Lexus for long-distance cruising serenity, but it’s still plenty quiet and stable, and it has the same engaging personality it does on back roads.

Add all this up, and you have a sublime driving experience – best in this class by a wide margin.

So why doesn’t this car dominate the sales charts in this class? The styling is one answer; IDrive is also a major turnoff for other buyers. But the biggest culprit is the window sticker. Driving nirvana has its price, and Lord knows BMW makes you pay – the base here is a stiff $53,000, and at that price, you’re still on the hook for other goodies like navigation, premium sound, satellite radio, and keyless entry.

But the flip side is that for that money, you get the aforementioned performance envelope, but you also get to set up your car almost completely to your liking. Unlike its Japanese competitors, who outfit their cars in a one-size-fits-all configuration, BMW offers a huge array of trim options on the 535xi: no less than 11 different exterior colors, four leather colors in two different “hands,” and four interior trim options (three wood, one aluminum). That’s something that speaks to buyers in this class, as does the maintenance program, which lets the owner pass the bill for all scheduled maintenance to BMW for four years. Hey, if they have the balls to charge $750 for satellite radio when Hyundai tosses it in for free on the $19,000 Sonata, they ought to pick up the tab for something.

Then again, what price do you put on what may well be the best all-around car in the world?

Performance: 5/5

Possibly the best all-around powerplant on planet Earth – powerful, extremely responsive, wonderful to listen to, and remarkably efficient

Ride: 4/5

Amazingly well controlled for a car with this kind of handling prowess, if not quite as supple as, say, the Jaguar

Handling: 5/5

Flawless over the road at any speed

Exterior: 2/5

Classic BMW proportioning is attractive, but Bangle-era styling details ruin the design

Interior: 2/5

Instrument panel is six kinds of ugly; IDrive is improved but still a pain to use

Fit and Finish: 5/5

Can the guys who built this car do my kitchen?

Toys: 1/5

BMW nickel-and-dimes you for every single option, many of which are standard on competitors, and all the options are expensive

Desirability: 5/5

Paraphrasing Han Solo: she may not be the prettiest in the bunch, but she’s got it where it counts, kid.

Once upon a time, in the free-wheeling era where Herr Bertel Schmitt was busy hiring rogue helicopter pilots and causing untold mischief in the European auto-advertising business, the major players in the German market each knew how to stick to their knitting. Mercedes-Benz built staid automobiles for taxi drivers and decent people. BMW offered a limited range of square-and-sporty sedans, Audi built avant-garde streamliners for the traction-avant set. Porsche, meanwhile, held an unspoken but very real franchise as the only volume producer of German sports cars.

This cozy arrangement led to all sorts of cooperation between Porsche and its bigger brothers. In the United States, Porsche shared a marketing channel with Audi. It assembled the Mercedes-Benz 500E and Audi RS2. BMW provided the original body stampings for the first-gen Boxster, while Mercedes reportedly continues to provide base castings for watercooled Porsche sixes.

By the early Nineties, however, BMW and Mercedes were both determined to break the gentleman’s agreement and take a shot at the relatively tiny sports car market. The resulting products, badged “Z3” and “SLK,” were, frankly, just this side of abysmal. Both were parts-bin specials with awkward proportions, and neither was even close to being a match for the sublime 1997 Boxster 2.5.

Today, in 2009, it is well understood that BMW and Mercedes cannot successfully compete against the Boxster and Cayman. The new-gen Z4 is a massive, heavy contraption which resembles a Lexus SC 430 in concept and execution, while the current SLK has been halfheartedly revised and stuffed full of automatic transmissions. Yet there was a brief, shining moment where BMW took a full-strength swing at the Boxster S. The Z4 M, which combines the roadster body with BMW’s iconic S54 straight-six and the M Division’s best attempts at chassis tuning, was this moment.

Earlier this year, I once again found myself with the folks at Performance Rentals, running their perfectly-prepared red Z4M against their equally spotless Porsche Cayman S. Although I am a multiple-Porsche owner and unapologetic Weissach bigot, I have always found the M variants of the Z4 to be uniquely compelling. The now-discontinued, high-revving BMW six is characterful and muscular in exactly the way that Porsche’s watercooled sixes are not. The droptop Bimmer platform should also be the perfect antidote for my growing exasperation with the E46 M3, its “German Trans Am” vibe, and the army of spiked-hair, unbuttoned-shirt douchebags who make up the bulk of the M3 owner community.

The Z4 is a bit of an experience even when standing still. The bonnet is cartoonishly long, while the interior is inexcusably cramped. It’s not a small car, particularly compared to a Cayman, but BMW has only managed to provide two rather narrow pockets for the driver and passenger. There’s a self-conscious artistry to the dashboard arrangement and the ostentatious simplicity of the controls. It’s an odd mix of vintage seating position and postmodern aesthetics, but the overall message is plain: this is not a regular 3-Series convertible. It’s a “sports car” in the classic sense.

The 340-horsepower “S54” six-cylinder occasionally feels just a bit overmatched in the standard M3, particularly below 5000 rpm, but in this marginally lighter roadster, the engine absolutely shines. It’s strong from everywhere on the dial and the shifter is notchy but positive. Down a series of descending, high-speed sweepers, I’m alternately punching the brake and throttle in decidedly unsympathetic, two-footed fashion. As with most Bavarian Motor Works products, the sliding-caliper stoppers are below-par, a tradition that has continued up to the current V-8-powered M3.

The Z4’s seating position is reminiscent of nothing so much as a Lotus Seven. As in the Seven, the a bit of mental adjustment’s required to understand how sitting nearly over the rear axle affects one’s perception of the handling. Understeer seems exaggerated, and the car’s rear end seems unusually sensitive to throttle position. For that reason, it isn’t a particularly confidence-inspiring car at speed.

The auto media as a whole has indicated that the Z4M is slower than an E46 M3 around a road course; I’m not sure I am ready to buy that. Certainly the big coupe is easier to drive, but the Z4M weighs less, has the same rubber under the chassis, and features approximately the same suspension design. It should be faster than an M3 in skilled hands.

The Bimmer’s performance report card has a few black marks on it, however. The steering hides too many of the road’s messages, the suspension fails to keep both rear wheels square to the road in fast transitions, and for the fifty-thousand-dollar-plus MSRP there should really be a better set of calipers on all four wheels. BMW started with an all-star cast of components here: a legendary engine, a modern chassis, peerless styling. But the result is, regrettably, less than the sum of its parts. As such, it must inevitably lose to a car which is so much more than its spec sheet suggests. Review to follow.

Despite constant evolution, the BMW Z4 has always been something of an enigma. Quality issues, cabin constraints, questionable styling, not-quite-there handling, dubious tire choices and premium pricing have all bedeviled the sports car—although not all at the same time. Far be it for me to suggest that this lack of synthesis had anything to do with production in South Carolina. But it is strange—and a little reassuring—to know that this next gen Z4 is made in Regensburg, Germany. Less comforting to those of a sporting bent: it’s grown in width, length, wheelbase and weight. Once again, Mazda Miata lovers looking to upgrade need not apply.

The new BMW Z4 sDrive35i’s design is like something I might have doodled as a twelve year old daydreaming in class. Whether the folding hardtop’s up or down, the two seat Bimmer has that long, low-slung phallic look favored by pre-pubescent boys. Now that I’m on the wrong side of 50, I can’t quite get my Camaro thing happening; the new Z4 seems a bit cartoonish, more Roger Rabbit than Speed Racer. While the Z4 is less awkward than the car it replaces, the design is still too exaggerated for its diminutive dimensions.

The new Z4′s interior is more of the same and then some, with lots of sparkly jewelry to distract your eye from the driving chores. It’s elegant, but overdone. I’d advise avoiding the temptation of the Ivory White Nappa Leather interior, which hurts your eyes even as it plunders your pocketbook ($2,050). The dealer had to inspect my pants to make sure I would leave no colors or stains behind on what was rapidly becoming an Ivory Gray interior.

Consistent with BMW’s mission to transform familiar controls into fashionably indecipherable and non-intuitive switchgear, I give you the Z4′s HVAC system. There are a total of four large dials: two separate temperature controls for the driver and passenger, one for fan speed and another air distribution. Now for the punch line. Two of the dials are really buttons organized in a rotary manner. The subliminal message from the engineers in Munich: “You complained so much about iDrive we decided to make things even harder for you. Next time, just love what we give you or we will graft more weird stuff onto and into our designs.”

When I heard that the test vehicle was equipped with a seven-speed dual clutch transmission, I expected to find a tranny similar to the wikkid system on the M3. Instead, I was greeted by the Nokia cell phone automatic transmission stalk now proliferating across the BMW line. While there’s no separate control for the shift times as in the M3, the Z4 sDrive35i’s throttle mapping can be controlled by toggling between normal-sport-really-sport-plus modes. Compared with the M3’s DCT box, the Z4 sDrive35i’s transmission feels decidedly dumbed down. Despite all the power under foot, I never thought I was driving anything more (or less) than an automatic transmission.

Wow, am I really complaining that the transmission is too transparent? Yes, particularly when the steering wheel shift paddles push in from either side to upshift or pull forward to downshift.

Once I got past these effronteries, I found progress quite pleasant, albeit antiseptic and uninvolving. The seats were roomy and comfortable with adequate support during frisky maneuvers. Visibility is much improved versus the prior ragtop, but there is still large blind spot at 135 degrees. The long front end is invisible from the driver’s seat—a huge mistake from a “it was worth it” point of view. The unseen snout’s sure to be the eventual brunt of some parking lot abutment.

The Z4 sDrive35i’s twin-turbo inline six is well suited to the Z4′s chassis. It motivates the 3,500 pounds very quickly, with very little turbo lag. The handling, braking and steering are all up to BMW’s usual high standards. Bonus! The car’s turn-in’s quite eager. Some reviewers have complained that the Z4′s pivot point seems too far ahead of the driver, making it harder to judge the apex while cornering. I disagree, perhaps because I grew up loving the Triumph TR3. But there’s no question the Z4 lacks an important ingredient: fun. Or SL-like comfort; the rigidity of the retractable hardtop improves the ride quality, but the [optional] 19″ wheels, sub-100″ wheelbase and [standard fit] run flats take their toll. As did the leather piece that squeaked throughout my test drive.

I like the new Z4 enough to date one, but I wouldn’t marry it. The look is too precious for me; I’d feel obligated to make an effort to dress nicer and wash behind my ears. The performance is excellent— but not inspirational. The really bad news: a price tag which easily reaches into the $60’s. I can think of plenty of rousing vehicles which capture my attention for less money, promise more involvement and demand less of my fashion sense.

[Written by TTAC commentator FreedMike] Much to the annoyance of the local BMW and Infiniti dealers, I’ve been shopping these two cars. But, hey, it’s MY 40 large, not YOURS. So I’ll be picky if I wanna be). By now, I’m VERY familiar with the two machines. I don’t know why TTAC’s comparison was between the 324-hp G37 and a 328 that gives up about 100 hp. The G37 will eat the 328 for lunch. The real comparison is between the G37 and the 335.

From the outside, both cars look great, with the Infiniti wearing sleeker duds. The BMW has that classic 3-Series proportioning that wears so well over time. Either car makes a strong style statement, so you can chalk this one up to personal preference.

The Bimmer’s interior boasts a slightly higher-quality tactile feel, while the Infiniti’s cabin offers more impressive styling (particularly if you nix the aluminum trim for African rosewood). The Infiniti has an LCD display mounted high on the dashboard that displays the radio, climate controls and (optional) navigation. When equipped with navigation, the BMW’s high-mounted LCD display looks like it’s been lumped on top of the dashboard as an afterthought.

The BMW 335’s lower ride height makes ingress and egress harder. Once inside, both the Infiniti and BMW offer supportive chairs (sports seats optional). The Infiniti G37 rides slightly higher so there is actual foot room in back; if you sit low in the BMW, your back seat passengers will have NO foot room whatsoever.

The 335’s twin turbo motor is an absolute gem: eager off the line, strong throughout the power band and wonderful to listen to at any speed. The G37’s naturally aspirated V-6 is similarly strong, if a bit more throaty and assertive-sounding; think of the G37 as espresso and the 335 as frappé.

Both cars have well-sorted automatic transmissions with a manual shift feature. The G37’s new seven-speed transmission offers more cogs, The sport model’s paddle shifters are finely crafted in magnesium, with a grippy rubber backing. They’re big and easy to reach from the wheel, and operate with a marvelously precise feel. The BMW’s paddle shift system works well, but I found myself using the Infiniti’s paddles more often.

In terms of driving dynamics, the BMW is near perfect, but the Infiniti’s not far off. If you don’t drive on the knife-edge of adhesion, you won’t feel much of a difference. But it’s there.

The 335 is the more refined ride, but not by much. It’s also subjectively quicker. In reality, the two cars are about evenly matched. Both are highly capable back-road maulers, with accurate steering, strong brakes and solid structures. The BMW’s almost telepathic steering gives it an edge over the Infiniti in this category. Anyone who drives at less than nine-tenths won’t notice much of a difference.

The BMW is the better car, but the differences are subjective and very subtle. And the superiority comes at a price.

A loaded G37X with the sport package runs $42 grand. A similarly equipped 335Xi (navigation, leather, top-notch sound system, etc) is $52 grand. You can get a base 335 for the same price as the G37, but it comes with a tinny-sounding sound system with the world’s worst display (it’s cryptic, with a cheap-looking red LCD display that disappears completely if you wear polarized sunglasses).

I can live without navigation, but other equipment choices are harder to justify at a matching price point, such as the manual steering wheel adjuster (as opposed to the Infiniti’s electrically-adjusted steering column, which glides up and out of the way when you get out of the car). The Bimmer’s iPod interface is a $450 option—a standard feature on an $18K Toyota Corolla.

But the hardest cheap-out to justify on the base 335: the drab-looking vinyl seats, which offer neither heating nor lumbar support, and emit a nasty chemical odor to boot. The effect is far more pronounced on cars with tan interiors. Even the charcoal vinyl interior, which does a decent leather imitation, has a nasty smell. How BMW has the chutzpah to charge over $40K for a car with vinyl seats is beyond me.

Still, the 335 offers a sublime driving experience, and the cachet of the roundel. The Infiniti offers a more a more strongly-flavored (some would say less refined) drive. Subjectively, it’s not quite up to the standard of the BMW.

Removing price from the equation, the BMW wins. However, given the price difference between similarly equipped models, the Infiniti triumphs, particularly against the out-muscled 328. That’s doubly true if you value the latest and greatest gizmos: standard in the Infiniti for the same money as a base 3-Series.

Overall, I’d give the nod to the Infiniti G37 over the BMW 335 based on superior value. And unless you’re a die-hard BMW fan, the G37’s a no-brainer over the 328.

The 2009 750i is the car I was expecting from BMW back in 2002. That 7 turned out to be the poster child for automotive arrogance. It introduced flame surfacing (including the Bangle butt) and iDrive. Its controls were impossible to decipher, the ergonomics were infuriating and it was truly ugly. The 2002 7-Series drove me right into the arms of Mercedes. In the face of the criticism, BMW countered that their customers were too backwards to comprehend the brilliance and innovation inherent in the design. Sales continued—until they didn’t. The new 750i is a mechanical admission of corporate guilt that offers redemption for lovers of the pre-Bangle 7-Series.

The exterior of this new model is handsome. But it’s also dull and derivative. The new 7′s sheet-metal cribs from many of its elements of BMW’s own 3-Series, with a bit too much Lexus L-Finesse mixed in (which, ironically, borrowed heavily from the outgoing 7′s design). The Bimmer’s exterior is less polarizing and more anonymous, without offering compensatory classicism. It slides just over the line separating elegant from insipid.

The BMW 750i’s interior is more suave and user friendly than before but also somewhat cold and aloof. Anything would have been an improvement over the previous 7, with its abysmal mélange of plastics. Now, there is greater use of natural materials (e.g., the leather covered dash) and the ergonomics are greatly improved. I especially appreciated the hold button, which lets the driver rest their brake foot at traffic lights.

The BMW 750i’s chairs are outstandingly comfortable, even without the not-quite-massaging “active seat” function found in the Luxury Seating package (for $2500). Sixteen-way seating adjustments offer more potential positions than the Kama Sutra, but the cabin’s let down by chintzy headliner (rectified by the $7K “Individual” package) and an uncharacteristically skinny steering wheel (remedied by the $4900 sport package). The transmission lever has morphed from 3+3 on the tree to My Favorite Martian’s cell phone; someone in Munich doesn’t understand that a joke doesn’t get any funnier the more you repeat it.

Of course, there are more ways to spend your money to impress your friends: heads-up display, active roll stabilization, night vision, soft closing automatic doors, active blind spot detection and the rest. Although we’ve seen these features elsewhere, the 750i isn’t about to surrender an inch of ground in the luxobarge techno toy wars.

The 750i’s navigation screen is enormous, yet, strangely, provides too little specific detailed street information. The iDrive wart is still present, but I’m used to it by now and tired of complaining about it. My favorite playthings: radar cruise control (which operates in stop and go traffic) and the side cameras (which allow enhanced visibility approaching intersections). Ticking all the package boxes costs an additional $16,600, lifting the BMW 750i’s price above $100K. With the demise of factory sub vented residuals, the 750i will depreciate faster than your portfolio of bank stocks.

Never mind. The 7-Series has always been about driving. Right?

The new 750i is powered by an “authoritative” 4.4-liter, 32 valve, 400 horsepower (at 5500-6400 rpm) twin turbo V8. With 450 lb·ft of torque available at 1800-4500 rpm, the 4564 lb German luxobarge can sprint from 0 to 60 mph in a mere 5.1 seconds. The syrupy throttle tip-in creates an impression of turbo lag. But then I discovered that the normal suspension mode orders the car to save fuel by starting out in second gear (a trick also practiced by the Porsche Cayenne). Once I discovered the sport mode, I was more impressed with forward thrust.

I first sampled a long wheelbase 750i without the sport package. Despite the brittle ride quality imparted by the 19 inch optional wheels, the handling was mushy. The overall driving dynamic was more Lexus than BMW. The short wheelbase car with the sport package was more to my liking, but my wife complained about the throbbing tire noise (in an otherwise tomb-like cabin). Yup. Run-flats which eliminate the weighty spare tire but rob the sedan of its traditional luxury gestalt.

The 750i isn’t a vehicle you can jump in and drive; it takes some patient fiddling to find all the settings that suit your style. I eventually found my sweet spot: short wheelbase, sport package, sport setting, minus the Mrs. At that point, the 750i proved a highly determined sports sedan, carving corners with confidence—while sucking fuel at a rate in the very low teens.

This is the biggest problem with the 750i: times have changed. Say what you will about the “hypocrisy” of the hybrid Lexus LS600h L, but the Japanese automaker has read the writing on the wall. The 2009 750i was BMW’s opportunity to help usher in a new technological era, using light weight materials and alternative power. Instead, BMW offers us another bloated and inefficient automobile. While I respect the 750i’s engineering, craftsmanship and athleticism, piggish mpgs or hydrogen ain’t it. I’m hoping a diesel-electric version lies just over the horizon..

M, RS, V, F, AMG. The alpha alphabet represents five manufacturers’ best efforts to create something unique, exciting and memorable from their more prosaic mainstream motors. The resulting “performance tuned” sports sedans are so powerful, so capable, so versatile, that they’re the ground based equivalent of the all-weather fighter jets that battle for control of the skies. While the shibboleth “there’s no such thing as a bad car” applies here, there are always going to be winners and losers. And it’s our job to sort the wheat from the chaff.

Each car symbolizes the corporate culture that crafted it. Each car possesses a unique personality. And each vehicle has a clear mission profile. BMW’s M3 seeks to defend and extend proven road-going superiority through maximum thrust and maneuverability. Audi’s RS4 sets out to shoot down the BMW. Mercedes’ C63 AMG embarks on a low-level bombing run. Cadillac’s CTS-V simply wants to defend its home airspace. And the Lexus IS-F tries to prove it can create the world’s fastest luxury jet.

I was privileged to drive these cars. Despite the universal G-inspired facial rictus, I walked away liking some of these uber sedans more than others. In the final analysis, my preferences stem as much from my own personality as they do from each car’s aesthetics, ergonomics and driving dynamics. I’m a Type-A aviator that breaks things for a living and abhors mediocrity. Mea culpa. So what follows is Capt. Mike’s ultimate guide to $60K super sedans. Nothing more. Nothing less.

5th Place — Mercedes-Benz C63 AMG

If you think it’s OK to buy a car for its engine, the C63 is a highly defensible choice. The AMG-fettled V8 generates 451 bhp @ 6,800 rpm. Even in this highly-horsed company, that’s an awful lot of thrust. There’s nothing wrong with the way the mighty Mercedes mill propels pistonheads towards perdition. Equally important, the C63′s sonic signature is the best of our fearsome five. It bellows and roars with the best of them. In fact, it IS the best of them, if unbridled aural sex is your thing.

Did I mention the C63′s deeply contoured Recaro seats, or an automatic transmission that snaps off gearshifts like a high-speed Nikon camera changes frames?  Unfortunately, the C63′s interior falls well short of its natural competitors’ cabins. The C63′s plastics are top notch and the switch actions are sublime. But something’s missing. Some sign that the librarian is about to take off her cheap plastic glasses, shake loose her hair and muss yours.

You really lose faith when you steer the car; the C63 AMG doesn’t mask its weight like the others super sedans. The helm precision delivered by every other car in the comparo is notably absent in the C63 AMG. Sure, you can throw this bad boy around. And it’s easy enough to hang the tail out in clouds of tire smoke. But the Mercedes-Benz C63 AMG feels a bit like the world’s fastest, best-handling Mustang.

Theme song: “Deuces Wild” by Link Wray

4th Place — Lexus IS-F

The Lexus IS-F lacks a manual transmission, looks odd and offers less badge appeal than a Trans Am. However, focusing on these elements detracts from the IS-F’s amazing accomplishment: straight out of the box, the Japanese luxury brand’s first F is the fastest AND most comfortable sports sedan money can buy.

All the other cars in this comparison seek that hard edge, that extreme sportiness that proclaims them the King of the ’Ring. The Lexus just sits back quietly and invites you to enjoy a surround-sound journey into the world of 416 hp (@ 6,600 rpm).

Around town, the IS-F’s V8 remains hushed and tranquil. Slam down the pedal, crest 3,000 rpm and the exhaust baffles open. All Heaven breaks loose. Although the Lexus IS-F is every bit as capable in the corners as, gulp, the BMW M3, the smooth ride remains.

In this group, the IS-F is the car you’d choose to drive from say, Atlanta to Providence, RI. But it’s not the car that would whisper in your ear, “Before we park up, there’s this nice little twisty road out by the reservoir . . . .”

Theme song: “Don’t Touch my Hat” by Lyle Lovett

3rd Place — Audi RS4

The Audi RS4 is the oldest car here. Not that you’d not know from looking at it. The RS4′s creases, gigantic snout and look-at me-bulges are all of a piece, but it’s increasingly difficult to decide what whole the parts are supposed to form. The RS4′s cabin holds the top slot for fit and finish. Sad to say (and see), the RS4′s omnipresent grays lack the Caddy’s joie de vivre and the BMW’s technologie mach frei.

Fire it up, push the RS4′s “S” button and it’s like you’ve poked a dozing tiger with a pointy stick. It’s ferociously pissed and it’s not even awake yet. When Ingolsdtadt’s 420 hp (@ 7,500 rpmm) V8 rouses from its slumber, you’ve got the proverbial tiger by an unwagging tail. And it’s got you by the balls. There may be a harsher riding sports sedans (cough, GT-R, cough), but it’s not in this group.

Yes, the RS4 has genuine steering feel. Yes, you can drive it like a Porsche C4S: just point and shoot. But there’s no excuse for a $60K German luxury carmaker’s sports sedan to offer so little luxury.

Theme song: “Hurts So Good” by Herr John Cougar Mellencamp

2nd Place — BMW M3

The BMW M3 was pipped to the post by the Cadillac CTS-V for one main reason: too much technology. I’m a man whose world is defined by acronyms, who depends on computers to keep me alive. Yet I got lost in the e-gadgetry foisted upon the Bimmer’s 414 hp (@ 8,300 rpm) V8 chassis. iDrive, MDrive, handling nannies, traction nannies and an ECU smart enough to clone dinosaurs on its own—the Bimmer’s brain created a corner carving concert that made it a the consummate sports sedan. But somewhere along the line it lost some it its character.

No question: that spark of genius remains buried deep within the M3′s box of tricks; the spirit of the original E30 M3 struggles to get out. When I stopped fiddling with all the gadgets, set everything to automatic and let loose the dogs of war, I could just about recapture those glory days, glory days, glory days.

Which is a bit like complaining that watching “Battlestar Gallactica” is never as good as it was the first time. The BMW M3 was, is, and most likely will be the most feelsome sports sedan in the world. Those who prefer finesse to raw thrills are free to transpose my top two choices without any debate. Well, from me.

Theme song: I take Beethoven’s fifth.

1st Place — Cadillac CTS-V (Manual)

The other mad machines in this comparo made the sheetmetal leap from mainstream to insanestream via louvers, brake ducts, spoilers, exhaust pipes and more exhaust pipes. The Cadillac CTS-V simply adds some chrome to the aggressive original (v. 2) design and meshes around with the front end. Inside, the Caddy proves once and for all (unfortunately) that General Motors can make a class-leading interior. Taken as a whole, the Cadillac CTS-V comes across as the brash American, fitness-trained by Hollywood’s best, wearing a perfectly tailored who’s-the-[Hugo]-boss suit.

When the pinks are on the line, the ultimate Caddy delivers the goods. At our 60 large price point, the Cadillac CTS-V has 100 bhp worth of extra Bimmer-bashing oomph under the bonnet. The 556 hp (@ 6,100 rpm) rip out of the back wheels, while the engine snarls with enough ferocity to send the Germans to the local tuning shop for some fortifying kaffe und kuchen.

But it doesn’t stop there and neither do you. The CTS-V’s gearbox (automatic or manual), suspension and brakes may lack the M3′s delicacy of touch, but they work with equal harmony and precision. This is one of those rare cars that creates confidence even as it unleashes accelerative and lateral mayhem.

Theme song: anything by Stevie Ray Vaughan.

The BMW 3-Series has been the gold standard for small sports sedans since America had a gold standard. Well, it seems that way. The Ultimate Driving Machine has seen off the Germans (Mercedes C-Class, Audi A4), Americans (Cadillac CTS) and Japanese (Infiniti’s G-force). Repeatedly. Despite the min-Merc’s rep as a credible corner carver, it’s the Infiniti that’s posed the most dangerous threat to the 3′s rep. In fact, Infiniti’s persistence is the automotive equivalent of the posse in Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid. Who are zees guys? These days, the G-Unit chases the 3 with a bigger engine, remapped power delivery and a Bimmer baiting tagline: “Beyond Machine.” We shall see.

The BMW 328 xDrive is the least Bangled of the Bimmer bunch, retaining its golden rule proportions—despite speed lines from a Japanese cartoon. This iteration finds itself more plump than its predecessors, but hey, would you complain it if was a steak? That long nose covers a straight six, the engine configuration that’s delighted generations of pistonheads. Literally. What else do you need to know?

The Infiniti G37x has an entirely different posture, with nearly the same stance. It is erumpent and rolling, like a silk scarf in the wind. The overall effect is more sinister than commanding. It doesn’t appear to be in the same weight class as the champ. Ha!

The Infiniti’s cabin had an interior decorator on their design team. The Washi paper-like aluminum trim is Shirley Temple-class cute. The flow and wrap looks sensuous, but also calming. The BMW’s innards were designed by engineers. No flourishes are found. From this seat, you drive your car. Ja? BMW breaks up the purposeful lines with varying textures and shades. Everything feels good, and that’s enough.

The BMW 328xi and Infiniti G37x’s stable-yards are grossly mismatched. BMW brings the venerable 3.0-liter, inline six-cylinder engine making 230 hp @ 6500 rpm. The Infiniti wields 328 hp @ 7000 rpm from a 3.7-liter V6. Yes, the 335′s 300-horse turbocharged engine would crush the Infiniti into a fine powder. But that particular motorized meisterstuck is seven-Gs more (cash not cars). The truth is most sports sedanististas compare cars dollar-for-dollar.

The 328 is quick. It’s not going to make your mouth dry, but palpitations are not beyond the realm of possibility. Ye Olde variable valve timing produces a strong, steady surge up and down the rev range. A good driver can control and work with every ounce of the 328xi’s urge, using momentum to achieve what sheer grunt can not.

The G37 is fast. The engine’s 269 lb-ft of torque (@ 5200 rpm) reveals itself like it’s been there all along, waiting for you. Again, astute valve control delivers unto your right foot and two hands a strong, usable engine. Still, you gotta pay attention.

The G37′s dynamic vehicle control, traction control, ABS and all-wheel drive system do their level best to keep you at your level best, away from solid objects. I plowed this thing through light and heavy virgin snow. The experience was almost disappointing. The rear-wheel drive bias fools you into thinking you can break the rear end loose. You can’t. At least not if you’ve got a wife, two kids, a mortgage and a desire to support same.

The BMW’s equipped with almost the same system. I’m sure lawyers someplace will disagree. But the result is identical: more confidence than anyone other than Gunnar Thermaenius should have on a snowy road (to pick a neutral party).

Holistically speaking, the differences between the BMW 328xi and Infiniti G37x are remarkable (’cause that’s how we roll), but not profound. On dry pavement, the G has so much power you have to hold back, even when it’s not strictly necessary. It strains at the leash and then heads for the hills. If you’re not having enough fun, just hammer it and hold on. Done.

As you’d expect, the 328xi has a far more tossable, user-friendly feel. It encourages the enthusiastic driver to approach its limits a little at a time. By the same token, the G37′s stoppers are absurdly effective. But the 3′s brakes are effectively absurd; you can slow the sedan from outrageous speeds with logic-defying grace and seemingly infinite power.

The G37x’s new seven-speed is the world’s best continuously variable transmission (only not). The 3′s six speed is just as smooth, but lacks that final dollop of crème fraîche. Response under full throttle is identical, as are the official gas mileage ratings.

Overall, the cars are equal. The G trounces the 3 in the power department. Yet there is a purity to the 3 series that remains insuperable; it wasn’t designed to evoke or compete with anything. It’s a 3 series. It was built as a whole and ultimately it translates to a special, unified driving experience that can’t be overcome with power and tricks. I wouldn’t fault anyone for buying a G. But for me, synergy supplants paper prowess. The 3 wins.

[The original comparo crashed the entire site, due to some photo-related code. I apologize for losing your insightful commentary. I promise it won't disappear this time.]

BMW makes the world’s best straight six cylinder engines. This 3.0-liter oil burner builds on that reputation. Packing 265 horsepower and a thundering 425 pound feet of torque, the 35d motivates the 5,225 pound X5 from rest to 60 miles per hour in less than seven seconds– whilst delivering 26 miles per gallon on the highway. Using Detroit’s favorite mpg calculation, the 22.5 gallon tank could take you nearly 600 miles between fill ups. And you might even get chuckgoolsbee to provide some cheap, homebrewed biofuel.

The 35d’s oil burner’s blessed with a brace of blowers, and comes complete with all the usual BMW jiggery pokery (e.g. an aluminum engine block and third-generation piezo common rail direct injection). After an initial flat spot, the big ass Bimmer’s thrust arrives without a hiccup across the [admittedly short] rev range. In fact, the diesel engine is more lag-less (less lagged?) than the world-beating 3.0-liter twin turbo gas engine offered in the X6, while delivering 24 percent better fuel economy than the normally aspirated xDrive 30i.

In case I didn’t make myself clear: this is one sweetheart of an engine. BMW only offers it in the 3-Series sedan and the X5. Neither would be my vehicle of choice; the 3-Series sedan is too small and the X5 is too porky.

That said, the X5 xDrive 35d handles better than any 2.6 ton machine ought. As long as you deploy the word “relatively,” you could even say it’s fun to drive. Though grabby, the brakes are endlessly capable, lending confidence in all situations. The transmission lever is incredibly obnoxious from an aesthetic POV, but it works with admirable intuitiveness. The steering is weighty and confident at speed, but too heavy at parking lot velocities.

Most of the 35d’s operating controls felt unduly stiff, imparting a feeling of durability without the usual oil-dampened grace. The 35d’s doors closed with an impressive thunk, but the two piece clam shell trunk lid made a “ping” sound that suggested that Stuttgart is a long, long away from Spartenberg. The motors powering the electrically adjustable steering wheel were noisy and slow in their operation. Don’t get me started on the quality and comfort of the seats. The cows which donated their hides to the X5 must have led a horrible life, ate sandpaper or mated with lizards. In terms of comfort and support, even a boozed-up bum would find a park bench a better bet.

The 35d’s outward visibility is panoramic; why then are the blind spots so prominent? In addition, the 35d feels overly wide; narrow city streets are a genuine bother. Despite the vehicle’s girth, the use of interior space was no better than average.

I invited my wife to join me in evaluating the diesel X5, since she is more of the target for this kind of vehicle than I. On first blush, she felt the step in height was too high and complained that the side panels nicked her in the shins (the 35d’s optional running boards would have only exacerbated this situation). Next she complained about those hard, flat seats. To my surprise, she also objected to the large glass area, which made her feel exposed and vulnerable. When she felt the stiff steering at low speed and heard the sound of the diesel engine, she was convinced Lexus had a better alternative.

Admittedly, there is a bit more diesel clatter at idle than I would have expected. Worse, compared with the RX400 she covets, the X5 diesel is less fuel efficient (particularly in city driving) and diesel fuel is dearer. So much for the coveted female audience.

Again, I reckon BMW put this superb engine in the wrong car. TTAC’s own, Alex Dykes has written-up the many fine Euro-wagon options available here in America. We just need to wake up and remember our station wagon roots; the first time I kissed a girl was in the third seat of a gigantic Oldsmobile station wagon facing the wrong way for the entire world to see. I miss the wagon days and I don’t need a crossover to make me feel like a real man. A BMW xDrive 35d 5-Series Wagon would stretch the boundaries of mnemonics, but it would stand a better chance in the diesel-aversive U.S. market.