At 7 years old, the XK isn’t a kitten anymore – but with a rumored 3 years until the next redesign, what’s a luxury marque to do? Make special editions, of course. On the surface, the XKR-S looks like a baby-boomer dressed like a teenager, or as the Brits put it: mutton dressed as lamb.

Click here to view the embedded video.

The XKR (reviewed last year) looks like sex, in a discrete, black-tie/coquettish sort of way. The XKR-S ditches subtle for brash; hood scoops, large hood vents, enlarged grille, carbon fiber splitter, carbon fiber spoiler, blacked-out trim (chrome is a $4,000 option), and bespoke 20-inch alloy wheels with 255-width Pirelli rubber up front and 295s out back are all part of this exclusive package (only 100 will be sent to America). There’s also a straked diffuser with dual exhausts, special badging and some crazy-looking vents at the leading edge of the front wheel well to improve brake cooling. Oh, and the front bumper seems to have been designed to look like a frown. Moderation is a Jaguar virtue and thankfully the R-S’s chassis is lowered by a scant 0.38 inches meaning we had no problems with steep driveways and speed bumps. So is it all-show-and-no-go? Far from it. All the aero tweaks put together reduce lift by 26%  and make the lift more even fore/aft than in the XKR.

Under the hood growls a lightly modified 5.0L supercharged V8 from the XKR. The quad-cam engine features direct injection, continuously variable valve timing, and a thoroughly modern twin-vortex Roots-type supercharger with twin air-to-water intercoolers tucked under the plastic vanity cover. Should you wish to accessorize your engine bay, Jaguar will swap that cover for one in carbon fiber for a cool $2,000. While the XKR, XFR and XJ Supersport have to make do with only 510HP/461lb-ft from this engine, the “-S” (and $34,000) buys an extra 40 ponies and 41lb-ft. You also get a revised exhaust, a tweaked 6-speed ZF automatic, sportier programming for the active suspension and electronic differential and a host of suspension changes, including fully machined steering knuckles (that increase caster and camber stiffness), increased steering effort, improved steering feedback, and 28% stiffer spring rates.

Back to those 550 horses. The only Porsche in this rarefied club is the Panamera Turbo S, while the only Aston is the One-77. BMW’s M5 and M6 put out 560, and from the bow-tie brand, only the Corvette ZR1 and Camaro ZL1 are more powerful.

The exterior and engine may have been reworked, but on the inside the “-S” boils down to some trim, some modified seats and a 190MPH speedo. In a strange twist, our tester was fitted with the “London Tan” interior, a standard color combo available on the lesser XKR. The XKR-S exclusive interiors are the better choice and feature “carbon fiber effect” leather trim, and bold-colored stitching and piping. The sport seats (optional on XKR) are designed to accommodate a 5-point harness, but aside from the fact they are standard and the “R-S” logos on the tiller and dash, you’d be hard pressed to tell the XKR-S and XKR apart inside. Speaking of not being able to tell the difference, the sport-grip-free steering wheel from the base XK and XF makes an encore in the XKR-S. While it’s not a bad tiller, it doesn’t feel as nice as new XJ’s wheel and the lack of ergonomic thumb grips keeps the XKR-S from feeling as sporty as the BMW and Mercedes competition.

While I’m complaining about the interior, let’s talk infotainment. 2012 has brought essentially no changes to the system shared with the Jaguar XF. The system is simple to use and well laid out but the lag between pressing a “button” and the system responding is long and screen changes are glacial. I appreciate minimalist design in theory, but in practice, putting controls like heated seats and a heated steering wheel in a sluggish system make them more aggravating than trying to stab the right button in a cluttered button bank. While some voice command systems have received harsh commentary from me in the past, I think even a lackluster system is better than none at all as we had to park the XKR-S to enter a navigation destination.

Like the XF, iPod and iPhone integration is well done, easy to use and allows essentially full access to your iDevices. While Mercedes’ COMAND is similarly ancient, Merc does allow voice entry of addresses. I’d like to compare the Jag system to BMW’s newest iDrive, but that’d be like comparing a Palm Pilot to an iPhone. Also on my complaint list is a sound system tuned so bright that even with the treble turned all the way down the Bowers & Wilkins system sounded unbalanced. I didn’t recall this problem in the XKR we drove last year with the same system, so it could be a problem unique to our tester.

Tech quibbles aside; the XKR-S’ raison d’être is not to Tweet or Facebook while commuting. The XKR-S was built for three things: going fast, screaming like a banshee and making passengers wet themselves. If I were a betting man, I’d say it was also designed with the recently announced 560HP M6 in its crosshairs. While the choice of an automatic may seem strange in a sports car, real-world drivability is greatly improved by having a torque converter. If you don’t believe me, just try to drive a Mercedes AMG with a “Speedshift” transmission in stop-and-go traffic up a steep hill. The XKR-S is a willing partner in the mountains, delivering rev-matched downshifts at the flick of a paddle accompanied by exhaust pops and a loud roar sure to spook any cyclists that may be in the middle of your lane. Should that startled tandem tumble, massive steel-and-aluminum monobloc calipers in your choice of red or black paired with upgraded pads and massive 15-inch vented front and 14.8 vented rear rotors stop the XKR-S in record time. Every time.

Jaguar tells us the XKR-S was tuned on the Nürburgring and runs a 7:50 lap in convertible form. Let’s put that in perspective. Over a 17.8 mile long course, an XKR-S will only run a few seconds behind a Ford GT, Lamborghini Gallardo, Lamborghini Murcielago, Ferrari 599 or a Porsche 911 GT3 RS. This shapely lump of hand-stitched leather posted a time faster than the previous generation M5, Ferrari F430, Panamera Turbo, Corvette Z06 and a wide variety of Aston Martins. With numbers like that it should come as no surprise that grip is excellent and limits are high. Aiding in your fun is a re-tuned stability nanny that has a track mode with higher limits than the XKR and a full-off mode should you dare. Yet, it’s not the grip that amused while flinging the XKR-S around the coastal mountains of Northern California, it was the acceleration which can only be described as savage. OK, maybe eye-popping. Possibly brutal. Definitely insane. Putting numbers to these adjectives, we clocked a 3.8 second run to 60 with massive wheel spin, smoke and severe intervention by the electronic differential and traction control software, but most importantly: no roll-out. Because that’s how we roll. Compared to the XKR we tested last year, this is a significant 0.7-0.8 second improvement.

While the XKR-S doesn’t claim to have launch control, we discovered the traction control systems and e-diff work best when you just nail the go-pedal from a stop rather than try to control wheel-spin on your own. Not worrying about lifting to maximize acceleration also allows you to enjoy the raucous noise bellowing out of the tailpipes. By the time the thrill of an automatic with DSG-like gear changes wore off and we did decide to lift, we were at 140 having blown well past the 12-second flat quarter-mile at 122MPH. Numbers like these are pointless without comparison. While the Panamera Turbo S may clock 3.6 second runs to 60 according to the auto-rags, those tests are often conducted with a roll-out. Besides, the XKR-S’s 122MPH 1/4 mile bests the 118 we clocked with a privately owned Panamera we were lent for a few hours.

While I hate to be speculative in any review, the XKR-S’s introduction just months before the new M6 begs at least an arm-chair comparison. A full M6 review will be posted when we can con one out of the Germans. For the rest of you, let’s start with the numbers. The new M6 may deliver 10 more horsepower than the XKR-S, but it is down 2lb-ft of torque compared with the Jag at peak. The curves indicate that BMW is putting some serious boost into their 4.4L V8 with peak power coming on a 6,000RPM and staying strong to 7,000 while peak torque happens at a very low 1,500RPM all the way to 5,750. Jag’s 5.0L engine created its maximum power from 6,000-6,500 RPM and peak torque from 2,500-5,500RPM. The XKR-S fights BMW’s broader bands with zero lag from its supercharger and a 260lb lower curb weight. Of course both Jaguar and BMW are known to quote conservative power figures, so this battle will continue on the track. The M6 will sport BMW’s 7-speed double clutch gearbox known for its fast changes, but I don’t expect it to be any smoother than the model used in the previous generation M5 making the XKR-s the better daily driver. Both the XKR-S and the M6 are similarly balanced in terms of weight, but the Jag wears skinnier rubber up front (255 vs the M6′s standard 265 width tires) and is slightly heavier in the nose, despite the lower curb weight. As a result I expect 0-60 runs will be very close with much of the variation down to the road surface and the final tire choice on the BMW.

Without a doubt, the XKR-S is a significant evolution of the standard car. Folksy Briticisms about mutton and lamb don’t apply here; the XKR-S is a predator, much like its feline namesake, and while the “space” part of William Lyons’ famous maxim may be missing, it makes up for it with “grace” and “pace” – lots and lots of it.

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

Specifications as tested

0-10: 0.65 Seconds

0-20: 1.14 Seconds

0-30: 1.18 Seconds

0-40: 2.61 Seconds

0-50: 3.24 Seconds

0-60: 3.83 Seconds

0-70: 4.98 Seconds

0-80: 6.06 Seconds

0-90: 7.12 Seconds

0-100: 8.42 Seconds

0-110: 10.17 Seconds

0-120: 11.84 Seconds

1/4 mile: 12.0 @ 122 MPH

Location: John Dodge mansion, Detroit

Editor’s note: The car pictured is not a long-wheelbase model, which is the only “Portfolio” model sold in the US. We are looking into the discrepancy.

When Jaguar of North America informed me that I’d be getting a 2012 XJL Portfolio for review, my first reaction was to engage in some mental bench racing. How would the new XJ compare to the smaller but more powerful XF Supercharged that I tested just about a year ago, and how would it compare to my dearly departed Series III XJ, considered by many Jaguar enthusiasts to be the finest of the traditional XJs. On both counts the 2012 XJ comes out favorably in the comparison.

The XJ Portfolio is the fully equipped long version of the XJ. While other luxury car makers have introduced “L” versions of their sedans, in part to serve the Chinese market where the person who owns the luxury car is likely to be riding in back, Jaguar has been offering long wheelbase XJs for decades. Other than a small handful of options like back seat entertainment and the two available supercharged engines, the test model had just about every luxury, convenience and safety feature that Jaguar offers. With transportation charges, as tested it comes in at just a tick over $82K.

Location: Charles Fisher (Fisher Body) mansion, Detroit

The Portfolio package, a $4,000 option, gives you an additional 5” of wheelbase, heated and cooled 20-way power front seats with massage, heated and cooled rear seats, navy blue leather trim with detail stitching and contrasting gray piping, suedecloth headliner and trim, plus four zone climate control with individual controls for the back seat passengers. The front seats store up to three position memories. You also get front fender vents with “Portfolio” badges. Twenty inch “Orona” style wheels, @ $875 ea. complete the optional equipment. A no charge option is your choice of wood trim, which sweeps from one back door around the front of the cabin to the other back door. The test car was trimmed in a satin finished burled elm veneer, book matched left to right. The console is finished in “piano black”, and tasteful thin shiny chrome trim surrounds many of the interior elements.

Location: Walter Briggs (Briggs Body Co.) mansion, Detroit. Briggs competed fiercely with the Fisher brothers but they were neighbors in life and are also buried near each other. I’m not sure that body maker Charles Fisher would have appreciated the Pontiac Aztek parked behind his house.

Standard equipment includes Jaguar’s base V8, with 5.0 liters displacement, making 385 HP, driving through a six-speed automatic by ZF, with paddle shifters that are activated when you turn the round Jaguar shifter to the Sport position. Stability control is standard as is a winter mode control. Every XJ comes with what Jaguar calls a “panoramic” glass roof.

That’s Henry and Clara’s place in the background. Note the green historical marker.

While the entire roof panel may be glass, the view from inside is not really panoramic. In addition to a normal sized venting sunroof over the front seats, rear passengers have a smaller fixed glass panel that can be exposed.

Blind spot monitors (which seem to be not as hypersensitive or distracting as the system on the 2011 XF), multiple air bags and active head restraints are among the standard safety features. Infotainment is handled by an audiophile quality Bowers & Wilkins audio system with Bluetooth, iPod and USB connectivity, a 30 gig hard drive, and a navigation system, controlled through a 8 inch touch screen that is as frustrating as every reviewer says it is. The XJ comes standard with a smart key and a power trunk lid. Customers and reviewers love the XF’s “handshaking” ritual, wherein the shift knob rises from the console and the HVAC vents rotate to an open position. The XJ has a more traditional looking dashboard design, so to give us a little theater, in addition to the rising shifter when you power up, when you unlock the doors, the side mirrors rotate from their retracted parking position.

I’ve been around computers for more than two decades and I’m usually pretty good at intuiting how to use digital devices but I found the nav system to be not particularly intuitive. It took me a few aborted efforts to figure out how to get it to accept a destination once the address was entered. Well, once I managed to enter the address. The touch screen reacts slowly and you’re never entirely sure each time you press a “button” that it’s going to work. Sometimes a small light touch will work, other times you have to practically jab your thumb at it. Also, it’s much easier changing modes from the steering wheel controls than using the mode buttons on the touch screen. They are so close to the bottom of the screen that the frame gets in your way. Fortunately for most of the basic audio and HVAC functions there are actual buttons and knobs. I’m a smartphone newbie so I can’t tell you much about phone connectivity beyond the fact that once connected the XJ’s infotainment system easily accessed music on my Samsung Android and the fact that it was much easier to get my phone to connect to the car than the other way around. Bottom line is that I was able to get all the infotainment functions to work and in the case of the audio system, work very well indeed, but the touch screen is a chore. Perhaps because the rest of the car is so good the touch screen and nav system stand out like a sore thumb. Either way, it detracts from an otherwise enjoyable driving experience.

The instrument panel is a TFT display, with virtual gauges. There are a couple of things that I don’t like about the interior, though I suppose that I’m picking nits to do so. I don’t like the way the big round HVAC vents look. They function better than most, with almost infinite adjustment, but I just don’t like how they look. The other thing is that I’d rather Jaguar had fitted proper analog gauges, at least a real speedo and tach. The virtual instruments look out of place, almost faddish in an otherwise traditional looking interior. I realize the need for digital displays these days, but I think that Jaguar could have put two smaller TFT screens flanking real gauges. Also, if you’re going to go with virtual gauges, at least sync the tachometer and speedometer indicators. One of the cool things about my old XJ was that at traffic speeds the tach and speedo needles were parallel and pretty much moved in sync as you went faster. If Jaguar could do that with mechanical gauges in the mid 1980s, I think they could do it with a virtual digital display. As is au courant in luxury cars, there’s an analog clock in the center of the dash that’s supposed to remind us of expensive wrist watches. Perhaps ironically, the analog clock is set digitally through the touch screen. Press “set” and the hands start spinning to the correct time.

Note how the grain in the burled elm wood trim is book matched left to right.

Quality control can be meaningless when it comes to prepped press fleet cars, but with that caveat, there were few noticeable flaws in the review car. Sometimes I could feel something moving around inside the driver’s seat back, perhaps it was part of the built in massager, and the back window glass slopes so that there is some visual distortion that makes objects look shorter and wider than they are. Fit and finish was as you’d expect in a car of this price. Other than some rather convincing looking vinyl on the door kick panels, just about everything you touch and see in the interior was once alive, sourced either from a cow or a tree. The leather trim shows signs of being fitted by real human beings. I see those slight imperfections as a good thing. The car smells like a leather jacket factory. That’s not hyperbole – my day gig is embroidery and every couple of months or so I trek down to Reed Sportwear to buy big leather scraps to use for motorcycle patches. I’m sure that my friends at Reed would admire the quality of the Jaguar’s leatherwork.

The XJ doesn’t just smell good, it feels good too. Car interiors are designed to fit just about 99% of people. If you can’t get those 20-way seats to find you a comfortable position, you’re probably in the 99th percentile. My bad back appreciated the inflatable lumbar support and massager. My love handles the inflatable bolsters, not so much. Those wealthy Chinese riding in the back will appreciate the longer wheelbase. Again, if you don’t have enough room sitting back there it’s probably because there’s a 99th percentile person sitting in the front seat. I can’t tell you how much that sloping roof affects headroom because at 5’6″, I always have enough headroom. Room for my ego? That’s a different question. I could get very used to driving this car.

The XJ is a fabulous looking car inside and out. That’s not just my opinion. Everyone who saw it just gushed with enthusiasm. While driving the XJ, I noticed that people noticed the car. More than one person came up to talk to me about it. The car makes a visual statement. The XJ is a big car to begin with and this stretched version came in an impossible to miss Polaris white paint.

After a week of driving, the painted alloy wheels were streaked with black brake dust.

Customers who opt for this color should invest in a coupon book at their neighborhood car wash because the bright white finish shows every tiny little bit of dirt. That’s a problem because like the XF I drove last year the XJ sheds brake dust like a Siberian Husky sheds undercoat in the spring. The big rims are painted in two shades of grey, perhaps to camouflage the dust. Or perhaps not, because it doesn’t really hide much of the dirt. Also, some of that dust ends up on the white paint. It’s a shame, because it’s really a beautiful car and its lines look great in white. Of course, in exchange for all that brake dust you get pretty effective anchors. It took a day or two of driving to get used to the somewhat sensitive pedal, but after that the brakes were easy to modulate and they retard your speed quickly. Use the brakes hard and the ABS will kick in, a bit earlier than I expected, but it’s not intrusive.

Location: Edward Fisher (Fisher Body) mansion, Detroit

It’s not perfect. On a white car Ian Callum’s rather notorious black sail panels that visually extend the rear glass from port to starboard are hard not to notice. I’ve never really objected to them as some folks have, since I get what Callum’s team was trying to do, but I understand those objections. Perhaps if the bottom edge of the window and those panels had extended couple of inches farther down, eliminating the slightly awkward little curl where the body meets the back edge of the side glass, there’d be fewer complaints, but I’m not going to lecture Ian Callum about car design beyond saying that I like or don’t like.

Speaking of the side glass, all things considered, visibility is good. The small window behind the rear doors really helps with your blind spot. I said all things considered because this is a modern high waisted high assed car, like just about every other sedan and coupe being made today. Between the high back deck and sloping roofline that distorted rear window only fills up about half of the rear view mirror, so the standard backup camera does come in handy.

Location: Mayer Prentis (longtime GM treasurer, Alfred Sloan’s right hand man) home, Detroit

The high beltline affects both the height of the back deck and the height of the front cowl. How high is it? Well, my big sister tells me that from the back seat I look like my dad when I drive, right hand bent over the top of the steering wheel, left elbow on the window ledge. Perhaps if I was six inches taller the window ledge might not be so uncomfortably high to use as an armrest. As it is, it looks like I’m trying to do the Funky Chicken. I should say, though, that the leather covered armrest on the door worked just fine. The high cowl, accentuated by that wood trim as it runs under the windshield, means that a short person like myself doesn’t have a prayer of seeing the front end of the car.

Location: Alfred O. Dunk home, Detroit

Still, that didn’t seem to be a problem, mostly because the XJ handles very well for a large car. Scratch that. It handles very well period. It doesn’t really feel like you’re driving such a big car. The fact that you can’t really see the corners of the car don’t really matter because it just goes where you steer it. All in all, I think the XJ may be a better handling car than the XF. The XF Supercharged had all of the XFR’s suspension upgrades, and according to published tests it’s a little bit quicker than the XJ Portfolio in the slalom. Ultimately the XF Supercharged is a bit more sporting, with less body roll, but the XJ Portfolio is more balanced. In long wheelbase form the XJ is a much larger car than the XF, about 10 inches of wheelbase and overall length, but its turning radius is only a foot wider than that of the XF. My perception is also that the steering on the XJ has a faster turn in than the XF. Not so quick that it makes the car feel darty, but once you get past 2 or 3 degrees from dead center, the car moves laterally with alacrity. This is one big car that can definitely get out of its own way. The speed sensitive power steering is very nicely weighted, with the right amount of effort in every case I experienced. The car is a pleasure to drive either sedately or with more vigor. It will waft with the best of them or alternatively, put the car into “dynamic” mode, which adjusts shock absorber settings and changes drivetrain mapping, and carve to your heart’s content. The XJ Portfolio has a lot of grip, the same .9g skidpad results as the XF Supercharged. I had to look up that figure because I don’t have a Traqmate or some other testing gizmo, but all of us have our own unofficial real world proving grounds. *Doing 60 on Providence Drive is pretty good, particularly with no tire noises or drifting. Though it doesn’t have the supercharged models’ active differential, the rear end is well controlled and when the dynamic stability control activates, it does so with little fuss. You have to try to break the rear end loose, and when you succeed, the DSC steps in quickly and fairly unobtrusively.  Alternatively, you can just deactivate the stability control and let it hang out. Even then, there’s enough grip that you have to work at getting the back end to slide. The ABS also shows a level of refinement that you might not find in cars at a lower price point. The XJ never seemed out of sorts. It drives with the composure that a longtime XJ fan expects from the marque.

Location: James Couzens (FoMoCo business manager & Ford partner) mansion

One of the things I was interested in finding out was if the stock 385HP engine was stout enough for the biggest cat Jaguar makes. The XF Supercharged had 85 more horsepower, a non-trivial delta. It turns out, though, that there is more than adequate power to endanger your driver’s license. The new XJ is Jaguar’s most modern architecture and the body is all aluminum, magnesium and polymer composites. The XF is highly ferrous by comparison. That means that the XJ Portfolio that I drove, at just over 4200 lbs, actually weighs about 100 lbs less than the smaller XF Supercharged. Though acceleration is not as instantaneous as with the smaller, blown Jaguar, you’re still capable of doing 90 mph without thinking about it as you enter the freeway. If Providence Drive is suitable for testing cars’ handling, the northbound Southfield freeway just north of Eight Mile Rd just before the expressway ends is great for short high speed runs. Detroit PD doesn’t patrol north of 8 Mile and Southfield cops generally won’t go all the way south to 8 Mile just to do traffic surveillance on 1 mile of expressway. So you have about a mile where you can open it up as much as you are willing to do, traffic allowing of course. The XJ Portfolio is still accelerating at 115. I have no doubt that it will pull hard all the way to its electronically limited top speed of 148 mph.

Attention was paid to weight (aluminum wheel for spare tire) and weight distribution (battery mounted in the trunk).

There are signs of attention to reducing weight from front to back and in between. Under the hood, you can see the lightweight castings that are used for the suspension towers. Next to the trunk mounted battery is a dedicated space saving spare tire, with its own aluminum wheel. The body panels are a mix of aluminum and composites. Jaguar did a fine job getting uniform paint color over multiple substrates.

Location: Ty Cobb home, Detroit

There is one aspect of the XJ that it unfortunately shares with the XF Supercharged that I tested last year. Right off of dead idle, throttle response is kind of flaky. After a week with the car I decided it was probably a combination of throttle and transmission mapping to keep MPGs high. I believe that under normal circumstances, the transmission starts out in 2nd gear. At least it starts out in second when you switch it to sport mode and activate the paddle shifters so I assume that from stops, the car starts in second. You step on the gas pedal and the car kind of sits there for a fraction of a second till you get past that point on the throttle. If you’re real sedate you might not notice it, and if you drive with a lead foot you probably won’t either, but if you drive like Goldilocks, it almost feels like a stumble, almost. It’s not something that would keep me from buying the car, but it is out of character with Jaguar’s sporting ways.

Location: Henry Ford mansion, Detroit. It should be noted that the Ford Motor Co. was a success before the Model T. Completed in 1908, Ford started building this home before he introduced the T.

The XJ Portfolio also had a firmer ride than I expected. Once you enter the freeway, that’s really where the XJ’s ride quality shines and it evokes memories of older XJs, but with a suspension tuned for drivers, those 20” rims give the XJ a ride on Detroit’s frost heaved roads that is surprisingly firm for a luxury car. Not harsh, but definitely on the harder edge of firm. It would be interesting to drive the XJ with 19” wheels to see if there’s a substantial difference in urban ride quality.

Perforations allow some engine noise to reach the cabin. Big cats gotta growl.

Jaguars are luxury cars for enthusiasts so they don’t entirely isolate you from what’s going on outside. There’s a little bit of road noise from the huge back tires, and there’s a perforated panel under the hood that lets some engine noise into the cabin. Still, the car cossets you in its own way. I could get very used to driving this car.

Once out on the open interstate or on winding back country roads the skill of Jaguar’s chassis tuners shows through. On the highway, the XJ Portfolio has all of the grace of old school XJs, though with a bit more pace, and at least as much space. On winding roads, the XJ is surefooted, quick, and will bring a smile to your face.

Gas mileage was about what you’d expect from a two ton car with almost 400 horses. I averaged 16.2 mpg for a bit more than a tank of gas, though most of that was not highway driving. Judging by the instantaneous readings, on the highway you should get into the 20s, maybe 25 mpg if you lightfoot it. EPA ratings are 16/23.

The suspension towers are lightweight castings that are fastened to the aluminum superstructure.

Not having driven a recent S klasse Mercedes, 7 Series BMW or LS from Lexus I can’t tell you how the XJ Portfolio stacks up against its direct competitors. I can say that if I could afford any of those cars, the XJ would definitely be on my short list. Yes, the infotainment system is a bit clunky, but ultimately I judge a car on it’s utility and its dynamics.  The XJ Portfolio is such an engaging car in terms of performance and handling, the comfort and aesthetics so well executed, that the question of how easy the touch screen is to use becomes almost irrelevant. We all know the Lucas, Prince of Darkness jokes and historical downsides to British cars, but at the same time the Jaguar brand and in particular the XJ has always stood for a uniquely British take on sporting luxury. A few flaws notwithstanding, the 2012 XJ Portfolio is a great Jaguar, a great XJ and should be considered by anyone in the market for a full size luxury sedan.

*Very late at night with no other traffic.

Jaguar of North America provided the car for a week, insurance and a tank of premium gasoline. Detroit’s historic Boston-Edison district provided most of the backdrops for the photos, which are courtesy of Cars In Depth.

With a base MSRP of $67,150, the XF Supercharged fits between the lower trim and performance XFs and the 510 HP XFR, priced exactly $12,000 more. No Jaguar can be a Q-car, but compared to the XFR the XF Supercharged is definitely a sleeper. For that extra 12 large you get an additional 40 horsepower out of the supercharged version of Jaguar’s new 5.0L DOHC V8, a more aggressive body kit, a different hood (bonnet) and a wire mesh grille. That’s just about it. The XF Supercharged is much more subtle than the XFR. To all but the most discerning Jaguar enthusiast, it’s a plain vanilla XF but the XF Supercharged has all of the XFR’s chassis upgrades, including bigger brakes, upgraded shocks and springs and Jaguars superb Active Differential Control, which uses an electric motor built into the rear end to control wheel slip. Oh, and an additional 85 horsepower over the base XF. There might be one or two luxury options available on the XFR not offered on the Supercharged, but for the most part the XF Supercharged and the XFR are mechanically identical, and have the same equipment except for the additional power. The only available options that this car did not have were Adaptive Cruise Control, inflatable side seat bolsters, and special paint. The press fleet car that I was loaned was painted in a handsome and understated medium pewter that shows of the body contours well.

Yes, Virginia, that’s Detroit

The XF Supercharged already comes with most of the available XF features as standard, so the only optional equipment my test car had was the $350 heated windshield and the $500 “jet” Alcantara headliner. I don’t know if it’s worth 500 bucks for a nice headliner and A pillar trim but it does add a capping touch to what is already a very luxurious and nicely appointed car. There’s so much leather in the cabin that between the fully leather upholstered seats, the leather covered steering-wheel, the stitched leather on the door panels and the stitched hide covering the dashboard I could still smell leather on me while sitting at my desk hours after leaving the car. Everything is real, the leather, the wood and the brushed aluminum. The wood is as one would expect in a proper British luxury car, finished better than fine furniture. All the switchwork has a silky feel to the controls while also imparting a sense of stolidity. Speaking of switchwork, this XF has the newer glove box release switch, an actual pushbutton that Jaguar has spec’d in response to complaints that the original touch sensitive switch was a bit too touch sensitive.

Actually, I shouldn’t say that all of the controls worked well. Alex Dykes, in his recent review of the XK, alluded to Jaguar’s oft-complained-about infotainment system. The UK is home to a number of audiophile equipment companies so it’s no surprise that the Bowers & Wilkinson sound system (440 watts, 13 speakers plus a subwoofer, Dolby ProLogic II Surround Sound) sounds great, with good imaging, natural highs and clear bass. It has all the head unit bells and whistles too: Bluetooth, Sirius, Voice-activated controls, Nav with voice-guidance, AM/FM/HD, 6 disc CD changer, USB, iPod control, and an aux in.

Regardless of the source it’s a real a pleasure to listen to the B&W system. For additional aural enjoyment, filtered engine sounds are discreetly piped into the cabin. Jaguar’s done a fine job tuning the exhaust and controlling underhood noises because under heavy acceleration you hear a Jaguar’s roar, not the blower’s soprano whine. The controls for the audio and navigation system, though, are clunky. The touch-screen reacts very slowly and you have to be fairly precise where you put your finger or you’ll miss what you’re trying to activate. Selecting an audio source is time consuming since you cannot directly access any of the functions, you have keep pressing the “source” button and scroll through the choices. Having remote controls on the steering wheel are nice, but the control sequences are not thought out well.

Hey, where’s that abandoned train station?

One might think you’d get tired of the XF’s “handshaking” procedure. As you probably know if you’ve read anything about current Jaguars, when you power up the car, the ventilation grilles rotate open from their power off position and the round gear shift knob rises up out of the console. Perhaps small minds are amused by small things but I found it entertaining every time. I don’t know if Jaguar was expecting owners to just sit in the car and gaze at its features when it’s powered down, but the dashboard does look pretty snazzy all closed up.

The seats are comfortable, though the driver’s seat cushion’s bolsters could have been more substantial. The dual zone climate control was, as it should be, imperceptible. Like Mr. Popeil says, set it and forget it. The heated seats and steering wheel get warm very quickly. All the automatic gizmos worked automatically. The rain sensing wipers also sense the amount of rain and adjust their speed accordingly. It’s been a long time since wipers sped up and slowed down as manifold vacuum varied. I wonder if younger people realize just how amazing technology is today.

Would the Packard Plant make a better backdrop?

Whenever a car company comes out with an obviously not-ready-for-production concept car, there are people who criticize, saying that it’s a waste of money that could be used to better develop production cars. Still, if you look at the show cars of the 1950s and 1960s you’ll find that all sorts of features that are now commonplace were first proposed on some kind of outlandish concept vehicle. While some “concepts” are just pie in the sky, eg. Ford’s Nucleon, others are pretty accurate predictions about things that might improve the driving experience. In the 1950s before the recently departed Chuck Jordan rose to head GM styling, he designed the Buick Centurion Motorama car. The Centurion had no rear view mirror. Instead it had a camera in the back and a CRT screen in the dashboard. Science fiction in 1955, standard equipment today. I’m predicting that it won’t take half a century for the thin film transistor liquid crystal display (TFT-LCD) touch screens used in Jaguar’s C-X75 concept to show up in a car that you drive.

No abandoned homes. Your sure this is Detroit?

And driving is what the XF Supercharged is about. Dynamically, the XF Supercharged is greatly rewarding to drive. Even though it’s made mostly out of aluminum, and it has a curb weight of just over 4,300 lbs. so you can’t exactly call the car tossable, but it is nimble. Like a big man who is a good dancer, the XF Supercharged is light on its feet. It never lost its composure or made an awkward move. With a 0-60 time of 4.9 seconds those moves are made quickly.

Steering is also quick, I measured 2.75 turns lock to lock. That’s Lotus Elan level quick steering. With two tons of aluminum, leather and polymers to change direction, and fat P255/35ZR20 tires in front (P285/30ZR20s in the rear) steering that quick requires substantial power assist. Effort is just right, with good feel for where the front end is. The variable assist works flawlessly. Maybe a dab more weight would have made it perfect for me but I don’t think anyone will find fault with the XF Supercharged’s steering. Turn in is precise, with just the slightest bit of understeer for safety. That understeer, though, can be easily balanced with your right foot anytime even with the nannies on. I hate roundabouts because I’m a cyclist but I discovered they can be fun when you have a powerful and properly sorted out car to drive. It was just a little bit slippery out and I was able to do a modest drift all through the rotary without having to deactivate anything. The Active Differential Control is very impressive.

C’mon, south of 8 Mile? Don’t be a kidder!

Anyone thinking that this car is underpowered, that they must have the additional 40 ponies that come with the XFR either has been exposed to some very rarefied machinery or they just really really like really really fast Jaguars. Michigan State Police troopers may judiciously allow you to maybe drive a little faster than their counterparts south of the border collecting revenue in Ohio, but I’m not going to explore the performance limits of a 470 horsepower car. I’m certainly not going to need to find out how fast 510 will do. Even with “just” 470 HP, I found myself inadvertently doing 90mph entering the freeway. From a dead stop at full throttle the traction control will kick as it upshifts to both second and third. There is always enough power to do whatever you want to do whenever you want to do it, at least on the street.

That’s John & Horace’s place on the left

That gear selector can be moved over one position from Drive, to Sport. The sport setting changes the engine and transmission mapping for more immediate response. An additional control will stiffen the suspension and speeds up the steering ratio. As a car guy I’m embarrassed to say that for the most part I left all of the settings in normal mode and hardly used the paddle shifters either. With 470 horsepower and an already sophisticated suspension, steering and rear end, do you really need “sport” settings? Drivers who take their XF to the track will appreciate them, and they do make a perceptible difference but on the street the gear shift’s S mode is like painting the lily and the performance suspension setting is gilding refined gold.

Brakes are all you’d ever need on the street. The rotors have larger diameters than the tires on some cars that I’ve driven. While they sometimes can be a little bit grabby after sitting, from surface rust on the rotors, for the most part the brakes worked very well, with good modulation control. I tried some 0-50-0 runs (on a 400′ driveway) and the ABS and other nannies worked unobtrusively. The good braking performance comes at a price: brake dust. After a week and about 500 miles of driving the 20” aluminum wheels were coated with brake pad dust. A friend leases a non-supercharged ’11 XF, with smaller brakes and he says that he also has to wash the brake dust off frequently.

Heaping big brakes means heaps of brake dust. The shiny spot is where
I wiped some of it away.

Rear wheels too. The brakes, though, work great.

Suspension is a little firmer than I expected, but it seems to me that folks who buy the Supercharged version will expect a sportier ride.

I don’t know if the Superchaged has the upgraded torque converter and additional clutch plates equipped on the XFR, but the six-speed ZF automatic transmission worked flawlessly.

Like most well equipped cars today, the XF Supercharged comes with a backup camera. Since this is a luxury car and even Kia now offers a cam, to make it special yellow guide lines are superimposed on the image to guide you as you back up. The guidelines curve according to steering wheel position. Perhaps in time I’ll appreciate backup cams but for now I think they’re a hazard. It’s one thing to be looking in your rear view mirror while going backwards. You’re looking up and you can still see motion in your peripheral vision. However, looking forward and down when you’re backing up is a formula for disaster. Mandating backup cameras may save 300 kids a year from getting backed over in the driveway, but I suspect such wide scale use will get even more kids hurt or worse when traffic on the street t-bones people paying close attention to the backup screen on their instrument panels. Backup cameras have very poor peripheral vision.

A couple of words about styling: like it. Some feel that the XF is a bit nondescript (a neighbor called it a cross between a Jaguar and a Lexus). I think that’s because the car has that rear window / C pillar with the BMW kink that you see on the Malibu and Altima, but most of the car is original and the styling grew on me over the week. I’m an old XJ owner and as the week went on it started looking more and more like a Jaguar and I started noticing more signature styling elements. The rear of the car is perfect, even if it recalls Ian Callum’s work for Aston Martin. Nobody ever called an Aston ugly. Michael Karesh recently discussed the long overhang of the Kia Optima. Large overhangs are a necessary consequence of front wheel drive packaging needs. You need a lot of space to fit the engine and transmission under the hood. Looking at the XF, one knows right away that it’s a RWD car. The front wheels are pushed to the extreme corners of the car. That visually lengthens the long flanks of the car. Those long flanks, smooth save for a character line near the bottom of the doors, started reminding me of a classic XJ. The flanks flow into rear haunches that Jaguars must have. The beltline has a subtle wedge that combined with the wheels pushed out to the corners gives the car a purposeful stance. Surprisingly for a short guy in a wedgey car, visibility was acceptable (few modern cars have good visibility). I still hate fender gills but at least the XF’s were designed in from scratch. Jaguar adding gills to the last traditional XJ was a travesty. These don’t look half bad.

For the most part I came away very impressed with the XF Supercharged, though it’s likely that I would feel the same about any cars in its class. There aren’t that many crappy cars in that price range. Still, it’s not perfect. While it may be less expensive than German competitors (well, at least the base XF is), the higher powered Cadillac CTS-V is about $10K cheaper than the XF Supercharged. Of course for that ten grand you’re getting the cachet of a Jaguar and not being the samo samo luxury brand is part of Jaguar’s appeal. Gas mileage was about what you’d expect from a perpetual adolescent driving a high powered car. I averaged ~14mpg for the week and when I was driving enthusiastically the instantaneous rate dropped into the single digits. There’s the aforementioned severe brake dust issue and my issues with the infotainment system. Come to think of it, there’s another issue with that system. I decided to use the Jag to pick my mom up at the airport and managed to get stuck at the curb at the wrong terminal. It took 5-10 minutes for things to clear up enough to pull away. In the meantime, the parking assist nannies are warning me that there’s a car next to me. I’m not blind, I can see it. The nannies also mute the stereo when they’re active. Dammit, I know that I’m backing up, I still want to listen to the flipping song I have on, not the stupid nanny chime. Perhaps if I had RTFM I could have muted Mary Poppins.

The only quality control issue that I noticed was in the windshield lamination. I don’t know if it’s because the glass is heated or if they did a poor job in laminating the safety glass, but at night there was a noticeable interference pattern in the glass. It didn’t affect visibility but there was a star effect around oncoming headlights.

There was also, surprisingly, a driveability issue. Well, that might be a bit too strong, but right off of dead idle the car hesitates. It’s not a stumble, just a hesitation. I started to mention it to one of the fleet company’s drivers and he finished my sentence, so it’s not just me. My guess is that it’s either due to fuel efficiency concerns or that with 470 horsepower, Jaguar didn’t want wheel spins at every green light, so the throttle is mapped that way. Either way it’s so out of character compared to how the car performs in all other circumstances that it stands out.

Other than those few quibbles, I thought the XF Supercharged was damn near perfect. Alex and Michael, who have more experience than I do with cars in this segment might be more critical than me, but as long as someone else was making the payments and paying for the gasoline and insurance, I could be very comfortable using the XF Supercharged as my daily driver. If Jaguar had asked me if I wanted to test the XFR, I would have said “Goody, goody, what’s not to like?” Who wouldn’t want 40 more horsepower in almost any car? But I’m not convinced I’d spend the money on the XFR if I had it. The XF comes in four flavors: base, premium, Supercharged and R. The base car is $52K and the premium trim model is $56,000. So the difference between the XF premium and the Supercharged is about $11,000, close to the difference between the Supercharged and the XFR. For about half of the additional cost of the XFR, you get 2/3rds the power increase and all of the other go fast parts. If you must have those extra 40 horses, I’m not going to tell you that it’s a waste of money, but if the XFR is worth $80K, then the XF Supercharged is a bargain.

Note: Jaguar of North America provided the XF Supercharged and insurance for a week plus a tank of premium gas. The nice folks at the office of Woodlawn Cemetery in Detroit helped me find the Dodge brothers. The other photos were taken in the Palmer Woods neighborhood of Detroit.

It’s December and the world seems filled with Michigan grey. On a bootleg mp3 Dylan’s singing Paul Simon about brown leaves and a sky in a hazy shade of winter. Perfect day to be tramping around a cemetery looking for famous dead guys who made cars. Rich and famous Detroiters are at Woodlawn. Auto magnates like Edsel and his good friend Roy. Politicians, car guys. Car guys turned politicians. Entertainers. Lots of entertainers. Aretha’s daddy, Rev. C.L. Franklin, is there, as are her siblings and in the office they told me she’d be joining them. And of course, Motown. Eddie Kendricks, what a tragedy, he’s there. So are a couple of the Spinners. Rubberband Man would make you smile even in a cemetery (yeah, I know they weren’t on Motown, but they’re from NW Detroit). But as soon as I saw the name on their list of celebrities, I knew I had to pay my respects to James Jamerson, the man who put the funk in the Funk Brothers, the bass player in Motown’s house band. It was bitter cold, and it’s a flat marker in the ground. The wrong number was written down, the grave was hard to find. It was bitter cold and I started walking every grave in that section. Finally after a call or two to the nice lady in the office, cemetery office workers are the most helpful people you’ll find, I was able to pay my respects. There were some artificial flowers in the urn on James Jamerson’s marker. I saw no flowers at the Dodge brothers’ tomb. John and Horace drank like fishes, died young. James liked to get a good buzz on too, also left us too soon. The Dodges had storied mansions and people see the name Dodge every day. Hardly anybody knows the name Jamerson was but his music will make people dance forever. I turned on the heated seats and steering wheel of the Jaguar, dialed up the ACC a couple of degrees, put the fan on manual, and pulled out on to Woodward. RIP, James, Horace, John, Roy & Edsel.

In 2007 Jaguar started the most intensive make-over in the brand’s history with the redesigned XK. While the look was drop-dead gorgeous, the interior was more evolution than revolution when you consider the direction the XF and new XJ have taken. Now that the world has managed to catch its breath after the shock of the XF and XJ’s ultra-chic modern styling, Jaguar decided to give the XK a thorough refresh in 2010.

The old Jaguar XK often received a bad rap as the old man’s sports car. From the surface, it was easy to dismiss the previous generations of the XK as simply a shorter XJ with a rather plain nose. To address this complaint, Jaguar has altered the size and shape of the proboscis, added some chrome grilles and a set of hood louvers to give the XK a more sinister look. The combination looks more visually interesting than the previous model, but still delivers a much more subtle first impression than the other two-doors in this price class. What sets the XK apart from the styling competition is the sleek side profile and perfectly executed rear. The style is not one that screams something wicked this way comes; that would be less than civilized, less than what consumers expect of Jaguar. Instead of aping the sometimes brash style of the Germans, the swooping lines, long hood, sashless windows and wide fender flares are executed with typical British restraint.

Inside the 2011 XKR the changes are largely limited to the removal of the J-gate shifter in favour of the hockey-puck style “JaguarDrive selector,” improved leather door trim and a revised steering wheel. The puck is unique and quirky looking, but actually ends up being no less frustrating than BMW and Merdedes’ latest “solution” to the “problem” of the classic gear selector. The steering wheel is another slight miss, while it feels great in your hands, the base XF gets the same tiller for half the price. Note to Jag: for 2012, swipe the wheel from the new XJ.

Current Jag owners I spoke with seem concerned that the latest Jag models are getting “too modern.” For those concerned about classic Jaguar styling; how “classic” your XK looks is largely depends on your interior color choice. There are no less than 11 interior leather color combinations up for grabs, and traditionalists would do well to note that the lighter the color the more “traditional” the interior tends to look. Seriously. Fear not Jaguar faithful, the XK can still be equipped with “acres of wood trim.” The option list includes three wood, one metal trim option and something called “piano black” which I would like to think is made from thousands of priceless tiny recycled pianos, but I’m probably wrong. Our press car was fitted with the black-on-black-on-black leather interior with metal trim and the same sluggish nav/infotainment system that garners complaints from reviewers and owners alike. I won’t beat a dead horse on this subject, but will say the new system in the flagship XJ sedan is certainly an improvement.

While we’re on the topic of complaints, not all is rosy inside the XKR. The first thing I found issue with is the rear seat arrangement, or should I say “stitched-leather luggage compartment.” No doubt countless hours were spent on the beautiful stitched leather and alcantara bits rear seat passengers would encounter, the problem is they just won’t fit back there. I’m a fairly averagely sized six-foot-tall person and with the front seat in a comfortable driving position you could have to be a legless-midget to fit back there. Room is so tight that the front seats are programed to prevent contact between seat-back and rear-seat, if you try to recline the fronts too far it starts scooting the bottom of the seat forward. My issue is not that the seats should be usable; I frankly don’t care if I have a 4-seater. The problem is that four seatbelts just restrict the XKR with a happy couple on board from using 3+ person HOV lanes. On the other hand, your briefcases and handbags will never feel as special in anything else.

Pop open the hood or romp on the go-pedal and you will immediately notice the biggest change to the XK: Jag’s new 5L V8. The 2009 XK’s two engine choices were a 300HP naturally-aspirated V8 or a supercharged 420HP V8, both displacing 4.2L. While the old Jag AJ-V8 is a nice engine, the supercharged version delivered an audible supercharger whine when pushed and with “only” 420HP on tap, the big cat always felt out of breath when running with the pack. Detractors may claim the new XK is still that old man’s car in a new-cat-suit with a big engine jammed in. To this I have to say: jam the new 5.0L engine into anything and it could be a winner. Even as lacklustre as the former X-Type was, if Jag had managed to stuff the 510HP V8 into the frame, it too would be a winner. When it comes to engines, it’s not all about power; it’s also about the noise. While the XKR doesn’t posses the XFR’s sublime bellow (I am guessing due to a different exhaust setup due to space constraints), it is never the less one of the most melodious V8 sounds I have ever heard. I’m not usually a fan of convertibles, but the engine note is reason enough for you to drop your top and choose the less-rigid XKR convertible.

Out on the road the new Jaguar Active Differential Control (unique to the R version of the XK) is immediately obvious. The XKR produces more than 125HP more than the base XK yet it applies the power with much greater finesse. While it is really not possible to call any rear-wheel-drive 500+ HP car drama free in the wet, the ADC takes most of the hair-raising drama out of the equation. The system is capable of not only locking the rear diff when it needs to, but it can also torque vector whenever the electronic nannies feel they should. Because the system can disengage itself at any time, it doesn’t feel unnatural the way some limited slip diffs can. The ADC’s activation is always seamless and fluid. Matching the ADC’s precision and feel is the re-tuned active suspension system which delivers a fairly compliant ride on the freeway and enough heft on the track to satisfy most GT buyers. Yep. GT buyers.

In truth the XK and XKR have always been “grand tourers” (Gran Turismos for those who prefer Italian) at heart, a type of car that aims more for gracious pace than maximum-attack. While BMW shoots for a GT-sized sports coupé with their M6, a V10 that screams all the way to its 8,250RPM red-line is not my idea of luxury. I mean F1 is fun and all, but for the city dweller seeking some coupé panache, something more subtle is called for… and that is what the XKR does best. With 461lb-ft of torque available from 2500-5500RPM Jaguar obviously had a choice to make: stuff some massive rubber out back and favour acceleration and handing over ride quality, or stick to Jaguar’s luxury-oriented roots. Jag chose the latter, and rightly so. The already low stock 4.6 second 0-60 time (TTAC verified) could be far lower if the rear end could find more grip. For the sake of comparison, the 2009 M6 runs to 60 in 4.4 seconds. Buyers will be pleased to know that somehow this kitty manages to be a fuel sipper delivering 15/22MPG neatly avoiding any gas guzzler tax. Ok, so fuel sipper is a relative term but Jaguar claims it is the first 500+HP V8 capable of skipping the gas guzzler tax in the USA. That has to count for something, right?

Speaking of the competition, let’s see how the XKR stacks up. BMW’s M6 is still the technology king despite having ended production last year, and the soon-to-be-released 2011 6-series is likely to raise the bar even higher. Still, the M6 is about gadgets and performance, the XKR marches to a slightly more posh drummer. The M6 may be faster, but is also carries a slightly higher price tag and is saddled with a $3,000 gas-guzzler tax due to the epically low 11/17MPG EPA numbers. While BMW’s 7-speed SMG is significantly smoother than the Mercedes Speedshift transmission, it’s still not as silky as the 6-speed ZF unit Jag selected. The M6 will probably always be the top choice for track days, but the XKR will make your vertebrae happier on your daily commute and your bank account fatter at every fill-up.

From the AMG corner we have the SL63 and CL63. The CL may have a real back-seat, but the looks of the CL have never been my cup of tea. At $150,000 for the CL63 and $139,050 for the SL63, it’s easy to just stop at pricing and call the XKR a bargain. The CL550 lacks the grunt of the Jag but does being 4MATIC AWD to bear, at $113,150 it still makes our tester XKR seem like a flat-out bargain at $101,000 as tested.

A wise man I once knew said it is impossible for a human to ever be truly objective. With that admission out of the way I have to say my week with the XKR left me smitten. Not because the XKR is the best car ever made, but because it fit me. While I can say as objectively as possible that the 2010 XKR is quite possibly one of the finest Jaguars ever made and with an available top speed limiter set to 174MPH, it might just be the fastest since the ill-fated Jaguar XJ220. While it may not have the athleticism of the BMW 6-Series, it actually does match the marketing hype on Jag’s website “elegance and beauty combined with power and grace.” Personally I would call it “automotive sex” but that’s probably why nobody hires me for marketing. If you have 100 large to spend on an aristocratic coupé, the XKR should be at or near the top of your list.

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

Feedback for our Facebook fans: Ronald Balit: it is a well sorted chassis, but with 510 and RWD it’s easy to get yourself in a situation where it feels like the car is trying to kill you. But that’s half the fun, right? Peter Dushenski: I would have it over a Carrera S any day. Over an M6? Close call, but yes I would take the XKR over the current M6, the 2012 M6… maybe not. Darren Williams: it purrs when you start it and growls like a lion when you prod it. Careful, those claws are sharp. David Hoyt: judging by the looks in downtown Los Gatos, the 0-Woman time is very short indeed. Amir Kazi: one or two clubs perhaps. The trunk is fairly shallow.

Mercedes-Benz, BMW, and Audi are all parts of huge organizations with vast resources. When developing a new flagship sedan, they can finesse every last detail. (Whether they actually do so is another matter.) Though previously owned by Ford and now owned by Indian conglomerate Tata, Jaguar has had to make do with so much less that it’s almost a miracle it can field a contemporary large luxury sedan at all. And yet we have the new XJ.

To have a chance, a Jaguar must be beautiful. The new XJ passes this test. Though the new sedan bears no resemblance to the classic Series III, the spirit remains the same. While the tape measure will beg to differ, the new XJ looks much lower and sleeker than the German dreadnoughts, with proportions the Audi A8 can only dream of. The Jaguar’s black C-pillar applique doesn’t work—at all—but there are two easy fixes: paint it body color or buy a black car.

The new Jaguar XJ also goes its own way inside, with a gutsy blend of high-tech LCD displays and retro sports car styling. The latter lends the interior a warmth and sportiness absent from the Germans. Though some of the switches feel a touch cheap, the leather and wood are first-rate and a definite step up from the XF. Unfortunately, the LCD instrument display attempts to meld with the retro sports car vibe, and fails. Some video games manage more convincing digital representations of classic, chrome-ringed round instruments. Even if the display was convincing, why invest in a reconfigurable LCD panel, then employ it to mimic classic analog gauges?

The front seats fit like a glove, with relatively soft padding and curves that cosset in a way the Germans refuse to. It’s that warmth thing again, even in black. The rear seats are even more comfortable, at least in the two outboard positions. Thanks largely to its organic design, the cabin seems narrower than those in competing cars, but in the extended wheelbase model there’s legroom to spare—44.1 inches. Wooden fold-down tray tables are another nod to tradition, but it’s hard to imagine them being of much use. If there was a way to level them without the cooperation of the person in the front seat, I couldn’t find it.

In the recent past both Cadillac and Jaguar were scraping by with DOHC V8 engines well past their sell by dates. Jaguar somehow managed what GM could not, and developed a new V8—and at the same time ex-parent Ford was also developing a new V8. The entirely unrelated V8s both displace 5.0 liters. The Jaguar engine isn’t quite as strong or as smooth as the new Mustang mill, but is still quite good on both counts. Cars in this class keeping getting more and more powerful, but we’re not yet to the point where 385 horsepower seems—or feels—remotely weak. Even without the available supercharger, which pumps output to 470 or 510, depending on how much you want to spend, the XJ is quick. It helps that an aluminum body keeps curb weight to a relatively light 4,131 pounds. The new V8’s exhaust note is throatier than that of competing German V8s, and yet refined enough for a Jaguar.

Jaguar continues to employ a six-speed automatic. It’s not a bad transmission, but the new eight-speed ZF in the Audi A8 and BMW 7 is smoother and more responsive. Perhaps the XJ will get the better box next year. Dialing (yes, dialing) the gear selector to S quickens the transmission’s responses at the expense of some smoothness. S also holds a lower gear, rendering this option impractical for continuous use.

Compared to the ultra-firm system in the new Audi A8, the new Jaguar XJ’s steering can initially seem disconcertingly light. Though a little more heft would be welcome, this isn’t entirely a bad thing, as the chassis rewards a delicate touch with precise responses and a surprising amount of agility for such a large car. Especially in “competition mode,” which quickens the responses of the throttle and suspension, but doesn’t affect the steering, the big cat likes to turn. It could teach the smaller (but equally hefty) XF a thing or two. Between this chassis tuning and the styling of the interior, the big Jaguar doesn’t feel so big from the driver’s seat. Until you glance to the side, in which case the high beltline and overly close B-pillar conspire to sap your confidence.

So far, mostly so good. Jaguar had relatively few resources to draw upon, but the car doesn’t seem to have substantially suffered as a result—unless you pay close attention to the ride. Quivers you won’t find in a German supersedan make their way through the XJ’s steering column. Especially in the back seat the ride often feels a touch jittery. Many people won’t notice these minor lapses. But the most discriminating buyers will.

Reliability is a big question mark. The Jaguar XF has been among the least reliable cars in TrueDelta’s Car Reliability Survey, with the second model year no better than the first. Most problems have been electrical. Might the more complex XJ fare better? Not that you’re guaranteed to have problems. With the 2009 XF 43 percent of owners have had no repairs in the past year.

The Jaguar XJ has some shortcomings, but do they really matter? There are benefits to buying a car from a huge organization, but there are also benefits to buying one from a relatively small outfit. Unlike some other luxury brands, Jaguar has never been about perfection. Instead, the marque has long gotten by (if barely) on a unique combination of sportiness, comfort, and charisma. All are present and accounted for in Jaguar’s new flagship. Compared to the technically astounding Audi A8, the new XJ might be harder to admire, but it’s easier to love.

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

Lee “Pete” Canupp of Checkered Flag Jaguar in Virginia Beach, VA, provided the car. Pete can be reached at 757-490-1111.

Why did we have an eleven-year-old, scratch-and-dent, no-maintenance-records, twelve-cylinder Jaguar on our lot? Blame our naive sales manager, who always paid top dollar for trades. In his haste to revolutionize the way people bought and sold luxury cars in Dublin, Ohio, “Steve” tended to ignore the established car-sales playbook. At the time, I thought he was bold; I now realize he was stupid.

It’s famously said that the SCCA road-racing rulebook is “written in blood”. Every rule in the book is a lesson learned from a tragic occurrence. By the same token, every rule in the car-sales biz is written, not in blood, but in red ink. There’s one rule in particular that is written in so much ink that it’s bled through the page, and that is: Don’t take used cars to customer homes for test drives. If you look closely, you will see an asterisk to that rule, added by me, and at the bottom of the metaphorical page, I’ve written: * this goes double for Jags.

The history of the Jaguar XJ-S could fill a book, and in fact it’s filled a few books. As the Seventies dawned, it was commonly believed that the sportscar era was about to come to a permanent halt. The affordable race-on-Sunday ragtop was an early casualty of Arab oil prices, American safety regulations, and California emission controls. Jaguar believed that a move upmarket would be required to stay in business (the more things change…) and the XJ-S was created to replace the aging XKE (E-Type to us USians).

Surely fifteen years of depressing, timid, default-retro Jags have taught us to appreciate this automobile for what it is: a unique and stunningly proportioned grand tourer. It was never rapid off the line; until the six-liter XJR-S arrived in the Nineties, it was impossible to push any of the sleek cats to sixty miles per hour in under seven seconds. Top speed, however, was 145 or better in an era when most family sedans on the Continent struggled to break the “ton”.

The original 5.3L V12 was smog-strangled to just over two hundred and forty horsepower in the States, but again, this was in an era where American five-liter V8s often claimed one hundred and twenty horsepower or less. The “HE” revisions debuted in 1981 and significantly increased fuel economy, bumping power by about ten percent as well.

Seventies-era Jaguar twelves are, to put it mildly, nightmares to own. Mechanically, they can be fragile and service access underneath the long bonnet is difficult. There are miles of wiring required simply to make the XJ-S start and run, with some of that wiring located in places seemingly designed to burn or damage it. On a whim, I downloaded a community-generated service manual for the XJ-S off USENET back in 1996 and printed it out; it was over two hundred pages and in many places consisted simply of a friendly word and a few admonitions not to give up in the face of adversity. Do not expect to operate any XJ-S built prior to 1991 as a daily driver. It’s as simple as that.

Naturally, I did not provide the above caveats to the Ohio State adjunct faculty member who arrived on the dealership lot early one Saturday morning to examine our light blue ’83. Even at a somewhat-reasonable $7995, the Jag hadn’t attracted a single “up” in months. This fellow looked like a solid candidate. Not unlike the car in question, Mr. Customer was pallid, sad-looking, and clearly well past his best days despite only being in his early thirties. I fetched the jump-start cart while our incandescently sexy assistant manager distracted the fellow with a coffee and a flip of her skirt. Wonder of wonders, it fired right up and I pulled up for the test drive…

…only to find that the customer had left his driver’s license at home. No tickee, no drive-ee, as they say. Panicked at the prospect of losing the only warm body to ever point a bewalleted derriere at the car’s cracking left front seat, the assistant manager promised that I would bring the car by tomorrow for a private test drive. She then told me that the dealership would pay me a flat spiff of five hundred bucks if I could move the car. Count me in.

I picked up the keys at noon on Sunday and pointed down Route 71 to the not-quite-professor’s home in the precious little suburb of Clintonville. I’d never driven an XJ-S before and was keen to take the ride, actually. First impressions: it was surprisingly like my father’s old ’86 Vanden Plas, but it had even more weight through the steering and drivetrain. As mentioned above, it wasn’t quick, but it also didn’t run out of steam on the freeway the way my VW Fox did. I was well past one-twenty and simply hammering down the left lane, sweeping traffic out of my way with an authoritative flash of the quad headlamps, enjoying the outrageously solid stance and almost complete lack of aerodynamic instability, when all the instrument needles dropped to the pegs and the engine Just. Funking. Quit.

It took me a moment to really believe that I was sailing down the road on inertia; the V-12 was quiet and smooth enough that at triple-digit speeds the relatively low wind noise was still enough to drown out the mechanicals. I slotted the transmission to “N” and started to think. There was an exit perhaps half a mile ahead, so I eased the big coupe through four relatively empty lanes of traffic, gradually falling from one-ten or so down to fifty-ish. A Chevrolet Celebrity “Eurosport” refused to let me merge into the exit lane with it so I had to brush the brakes and kill some of my precious momentum.

I came to a halt perhaps five car lengths from the stoplight at the top of the ramp. For a few long minutes I sat with my head in my hands. I’d killed the car, I would have to be towed back, I would lose my sale and I’d lose my job, and somehow everyone would figure out that I’d just been driving wayyyy too fast. A worn-out brass cat seemed to snarl at me from the key in my hand. With my eyes closed, I reinserted and twisted the key.

There was silence, then a single crank of the starter. The tach jumped. Although I continued on to the precious little home on Fallis Road, I knew that there wouldn’t be any sale. Call it luck, call it grace, call it the entirely understandable scientific operation of Lucas electrics, but whatever you call it, I’d used it up.

Want to take a chance on the beauty in the photos? It’s for sale at Motorcar Portfolio.

A wise old man once told me: “you can’t just own a Jaguar, you have to have a love affair with one.” The reasons for this were several, the sexy rooflines hampered head room and visibility, trunk space was non-existent, and then there are those reliability woes. Although my 2000 XJ8 has (no kidding) been the definition of a reliable car for the past 120,000 miles, the mantra applied. When Jaguar came out with a new S-Type, the restrained classic styling screamed “this is your father’s Jaguar.” When Jaguar created performance models like the XJR and S-Type R, they were just fast fat cats, not really holding their own against the Germans. But that wasn’t their goal at the time, the goal was to propel an English gentleman’s club on wheels with “swift progress” to quote the XFR’s owners guide. Jaguar styling was the definition of restrained classic elegance. Everyone who saw a Jaguar would gush about how gorgeous they looked in the parking lot. Consumers loved the look in someone else’s parking lot, but put a BMW in their driveway. Like the box of abandoned kittens at the PetCo front door, nobody really wanted to take the kitty home, and that’s a pity.

While beating the bushes at Jaguar over a 2011 XJ test car, I was given the opportunity to sample the 2010 XFR, a car that had been a bit low on my list. I’ve driven the 2010 E63 AMG and the 2010 BMW M5. My kidneys still hurt after only a few hours behind the wheel of the M5. I still have whiplash from the harsh shifting of the E63’s 7 speed contraption. I was therefore somewhat wary of what the XFR would bring to the table especially since the lads in Coventry had decided to compete head on with the E63 and M5 rather than just making a faster cat. Thankfully for the masses, the Jaguar is both worthy competition for the German ‘bahn burners, and a faster cat.

Looking at pictures of the XFR since its release, I was concerned that the XFR would look too bland, too conformist in styling, but in reality the front is expressive and the rear end has an Aston Martinish feel that pictures fail to convey. The only styling let down is the XFR’s side profile, which could stand to be more expressive. Parked next to a BMW or a Mercedes, the XF looks plain, or perhaps I should say restrained. Minimalist styling continues into the interior, which I would swear is more of the Stockholm design school than classic Coventry. Build quality is excellent, save for some nasty plastic on the airbag cover and steering column. Truth be told, the plastic on the airbag cover is competitive with the E-Class and BMW 5 series, but everything else in the XFR’s cabin is so sumptuous that these two parts stick out like a sore thumb. Speaking of those German rivals, the XFR on the whole gets high marks for interior quality and feel compared to all except the Audi RS6.

Bumping up to the XFR from the plebian XF gets the buyer full leather upholstery with more seat bolstering, a stitched dashboard, alcantara headliners, dark oak trim with knurled aluminum accents. And just about every option available in the XF is standard in the XFR, 20-inch wheels, subtle side skirting, extra exhaust tips, and lest we forget an insanely powerful 510 horsepower 5 litre supercharged V8. The 18 way adjustable driver’s seat is very comfortable and just in case your backside needs extra care it is heated and cooled as well. Bolstering is not at BMW levels, but let’s be realistic; with a 4,000lb car you really don’t need them. Sadly the rear seats in the XFR are just a bit less special than the front. Rear thrones in the XFR get neither heating nor cooling, and absolutely no special controls or knobs to play with.

The XF and XFR share the same touch screen navigation system. While the system is fairly simple to use, the system has an annoying delay when switching screens. I appreciate minimalist design in theory, but in practice putting controls like the seat heater/cooler and the steering wheel warmer in the touch screen just seem odd. Jaguar’s voice control system unfortunately receives my harshest judgment, this thing is terrible. Not only are the commands not intuitive, the help feature unhelpful, the system slow to respond, but it also didn’t seem to understand anyone at least half the time. My local Jag dealer tells me it is a common complaint. Adding to voice control’s issues: you can’t control your iPod at all with the voice control system. Jaguar’s previous owner Ford should be blamed for this deficiency, none of Ford’s PAG companies were allowed to use Ford SYNC which is a pity since this means the Ford Fiesta has a better voice control system than an $80,000 Jaguar. For shame. For those into comparisons, fear not: the Mercedes voice command system is just as terrible.

Taken on the surface, the XFR looks like an also-ran in the performance luxury space. The styling is no longer unique or quirky, the exterior is modern, and the interior is Scandinavian chic. What takes this car from average to extraordinary is how it drives. Your average 500+ horsepower luxury car is an odd animal, you get the trappings of luxury but all too often you get a harsh crashy ride, jerky transmissions, and occasionally you are [gasp] expected to row your own gears. The jerky transmission is one lesson that Maserati learned early on with the Quattroporte, installing a ZF 6 speed after massive complaints about its daft transmission. Likewise the E63 could be a great car except the transmission is so herky-jerky when driving in stop and go traffic or trying to drive that the current generation E-Class AMG joins the M5 on the list of cars that are great, but just aren’t daily driver material anymore. The XFR on the other hand is smooth, Lexus smooth, on the highway you might even think that it’s too smooth to be a performance sedan, but you’d be wrong. One firm press on the accelerator pedal and the XFR accelerates with a combination of effortless grace and some seriously aggressive snarl from the exhaust.

On windy back country roads, the XFR is incredibly agile, the ZF 6 speed transmission is lightning fast even in regular Drive mode. Flick the silly hockey-puck shifter in to Sport mode and any desire for a DSG-style transmission vanishes. All automatics should be this good. Shifts are practically psychic, and should the computer somehow get you the wrong gear, the paddle shifters summon that gear up in an instant. Every time. Speaking of the hockey-puck, yes it is a tad gimmicky but it is easy to use and with fast rev-matched shifts I quickly forgave the quirkiness. If you actually decide to exercise all 510 ponies and 461 lb-ft of torque, vanes in the exhaust open up and the XFR goes from house cat to a wild snarling beast, but thanks to an electronic rear diff (and  more processing power than NORAD) the XFR is a wild beast on a short leash.

Over boosted numb steering has been a complaint of high-speed Jags for some time, but the XFR’s steering is quick and communicative and straddles that line by being neither too light nor too heavy. The dynamic suspension is also excellent; it firms up when you’re thrashing the XFR on the twisties and settles down to provide a smooth ride on a rough freeway. The combination of excellent ride and the incredibly quiet cabin belie how fast this beat can be. If you aren’t careful on freeway onramps you’ll find yourself in the triple digits in less than 10 seconds.

After a full week with the XFR I was sad to see it go. At $82,000 as tested, the XFR isn’t exactly cheap, but compared to a similarly equipped M5 or E63 the XFR represents a decent bargain and that’s important in this space. Many shoppers who are buying a car in this price range still care about the “deal”  and an extra $10-15k is still noticed. Many publications will never dare to say something is better than a BMW, but that’s not the TTAC way: The XFR is the better car when compared to the E63 and M5 and given the choice I would take the XFR every time. At the end of the day Jaguar has managed to get the luxury side of the equation balanced perfectly with the performance side. The XFR is a car you can drive every day with a smile, it gets looks from people on the street, and while it may not beat an M5 at the track, it will sure give it a run for its money. The XFR may just be the perfect sleeper, and the best kept secret in the European sports sedan lineup.

For 2011 Jaguar has made some subtle changes to the XFR, including a new front grille unique to the XFR, a real button to open the glove box rather than the proximity sensor, and the radar cruise is now a $2000+ option. The BMW M5 is on hiatus for 2011 returning as an all-new 2012 model.

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

I could bore you all with the long story of how I ended up in the check-cashing business — it involved an attack with a broomstick and a coffee mug — but instead we will simply join the action in medias res some time in 1996. I am standing on the used-car lot outside Welsh Enterprises choosing my XJ6. Bill Welsh, the owner, had just treated me to lunch at “Jaggin’ Around”, the restaurant he owned in Steubenville, Ohio. A millionaire several times over from his intelligent decision to purchase some sixty-odd E-Types for pennies on the dollar in the Seventies and resell them at top whack in the Eighties, he was cheerfully burning his afternoon as I drifted among no fewer than six solid-condition Series III Jags, none priced above $4995. Clearly, this was more about amusement than money.

Upon its introduction in 1968, the Jaguar XJ6 was almost certainly the best sedan in the world. It was fast and smooth thanks to its big straight-six, as comfortable as a Rolls-Royce Silver Shadow (if not nearly as tall and syrupy) and gorgeous beyond dispute. It was also an utterly terrible, completely unreliable automobile. The absorption of Jaguar into British Leyland and the succeeding “Series II” model didn’t help matter. Series II XJ6s are utterly hopeless. My neighbor at the time owned one and wanted to sell it to me for four grand. I asked the USENET Jaguar group and was told to go see Bill Welsh for a decent XJ6, so I did just that.

As Welsh and I walked through the labyrinthine old brick buildings which comprised his loosely assembled enterprise, we kept coming upon Series III XJ6es, parked nose-first against a wall under a stack of boxes or peeking out from beneath rotting old car covers. When Jaguar returned to private ownership under John Egan, he demanded that the quality of the Pininfarina-restyled Series III be brought up to par. It mostly was, although as previously discussed, my father’s ’86 XJ6 was notoriously unreliable. This did not stop me from wanting one of my own.

Although I was smitten by a grey base XJ6 with red leather interior, my favorite of Welsh’s cat herd was an ’85 Vanden Plas in champagne with cream interior. It was $3995. The “Vanden Plas” badge was a curious artifact of Jaguar’s US branding. In England, upscale XJ6es were sold as “Daimler Sixes” since Jaguar owned the “Daimler” brand there. (The story of Daimler and Jaguar is a fascinating story of its own.) Jaguar could not badge the car as a “Daimler” in the United States so they used “Vanden Plas”, the name of a Belgian coachmaker, to denote the full-equipment cars.

Compared to a regular XJ6, the Vanden Plas had Connolly Autolux leather in a quad-seat arrangement. The interior wood was burled walnut rather than standard walnut. Most options were standard, and a set of fleecy floormats were provided as well. My car also had real Jaguar wire wheels. Those wheels were, ironically, made by the Dayton Wire Wheel Company. That’s right, Jaguar had thrown some “Ds” on it.

My Vanden Plas had eighty-six thousand miles on it. I put another seven thousand on during the course of a hot Ohio summer before storing it for the winter. In one memorable incident, I was rolling through an urban Rally’s drive-through when some of the local youths took exception to the fact that I had two gorgeous African-American women in the Jag with me. I was accused of “pimping the sisters”. The “sisters”, who were in fact managers of check-cashing stores themselves, objected vociferously. Something that looked like a pistol appeared in somebody’s hand. I floored the throttle and hoped the Jag wouldn’t stall.

Not that it ever stalled. In my ownership, it was dead reliable, running like a top and fabulous on the freeway at eighty miles per hour. Even the tape deck worked. Hell, the air conditioning blew cool. Ish. I’ve owned and driven a lot of luxury sedans, but the Series III XJ6 remains the benchmark for me. The driving position was pure sports car; the XJ6 delivered what the Panamera falsely promises. It wasn’t fast by modern standards but it was torquey and rarely needed to stir the three-speed automatic to make forward progress. One foible of the XJ6 is the considerable pressure required on the accelerator pedal; it was supposedly matched to the brake pedal for some reason. Getting in my other cars from the Vanden Plas always resulted in a “lurch” out of the driveway as I gave the throttle a Jag’s worth of push.

The dual fuel tanks were a joy to fill through their top-mounted, real chrome-and-metal caps. On the fly, a rectangular button changed tanks and caused the fuel gauge to swing to the appropriate reading for the selected tanks. It was positively Supermarine, old boy.

Even after twelve years, the depth of the champagne paint on the Vanden Plas was amazing to behold. My detailer accidentally dropped his sander on the car; the handle cut a solid dig through the rear quarter-panel but didn’t reach the primer. Very few corners were cut on the Series III. As a result, it was the most successful Jaguar in modern history, effectively rescuing the company and making it possible for Jaguar to complete the development of the XJ40 successor.

We all know how that ended, of course. My personal Jaguar story wasn’t much better. I lost everything I owned in the world through a series of personal reversals. The Jag was sold, at a loss, for cash by my wife while I was far away from home. She was able to keep just one thing from the deal. Our Vanden Plas had come with a spare wheel. No tire was mounted. When the car sold, the buyer didn’t care about it. That wheel sits in my garage now, next to my green Audi S5, as a reminder: Nothing is permanent, not joy, not sorrow.

If there’s a counterpoint in this test to the GS350′s robotic rationality, it’s the Jaguar XF. If the Lexus makes perfect sense to the kind of people who see car buying as an equation to be solved, the XFR is the only choice for right-brained aesthetes. It screams sex appeal like nothing has since Sofia Loren could steal your virginity with once glance from the silver screen. And yet, as with most beautiful things, a hard look past the exterior reveals things you might wish you didn’t know. Love at first sight can be a blessing and a curse.

Take a moment to savor the XF’s looks – sleek, elegant, and beautifully tailored. The XF is the best-looking Jaguar since the old XKE, possibly because it’s the first time Jaguar has attempted an all-new look since the E Type came out. The XF also breaks a more recent Jaguar tradition – instead of all-aluminum construction, it utilizes a conventional steel structure and sheetmetal. This adds some mass, but it also undoubtedly keeps the price down. The XF starts at a reasonable $52,800, and unlike BMW, most of the goodies you expect in a car like this are standard.

The XF’s interior also breaks with Jaguar’s past. The usual wonderful-smelling leather and wood trim are there, gracefully echoing the original XJ, but the interior design has been updated to match the XF’s sharp new suit. The result is a sweeping, elegant dashboard swathed in wood and genuine aluminum that looks smashing, and works commendably well. At least until you hit the ignition switch. When that happens, a round aluminum knob about the size of a hockey puck pops out of the center console; this is the shifter, and you twirl it back and forth to change gears. When the XF is turned off, the knob disappears into the console. This arrangement is easy to use, but feels like an unnecessary gimmick, as do the ignition-keyed vents, and the sensor-driven latch for the glovebox, which you wave your finger over to operate.

Call me cynical, but is Jaguar far enough removed from its days as a synonym for unreliability to get away with gimmickry like this?

Other ergonomic details are fine, including the standard touch screen control system, which proves you don’t need a million buttons or MMIDrive-style silliness to use the navigation system or change a radio station.

The wide, comfortable driver’s throne offers decent ergonomics, simple and stylish instrumentation, and a fat, grippy steering wheel with paddle shifters. From the captain’s position, the illusion that love at first sight might last forever is well-perpetuated. As a passenger hauler however, the XF comes up short compared with some of its competitors. The coupe-like profile limits rear headroom, and while the rear seating is comfortable, space is at a premium.

The XF’s base engine is a carryover from Jaguar’s days as a Ford subsidiary, the 4.2 liter V-8 originally found in the old Lincoln LS and Jaguar S-type. While adequately powerful – 300 hp is underfoot – and blessed with a wonderful engine note, the 4.2 suffers from a very narrow power band and a too-low redline of 6000 rpm. This, combined with the XF’s stout curb weight, gives the car’s power delivery a most inelegant “on-off” feel – probably the only true sour note in the XF’s driving experience. For a few more bucks, Jaguar offers a new 5.0 liter V-8 with 385 horsepower, and for a lot more bucks, it also offers the far more potent XF Supercharged and XFR models, with 470 and 510 horsepower, respectively. But the base powerplant is certainly adequate, particularly at this price. And as long as you’re in love, adequate is, well, adequate.

In contrast, it’s hard to have any major reservations about the steering and chassis dynamics. Though definitely tuned for a silky ride, the XF’s steering and chassis setup make it feel eager and quick on its feet, especially compared to the numb joylessness of the Lexus. The current BMW and Audis are machines of pure sport, always seeking that edge which urges you to drive faster, and rewards you when you do. The Jaguar philosophy has more to do with poetry in motion. The XF allows you to drive almost -but not quite- as fast as the BMW, but that misses the point. There’s an elegance to the XF’s dynamics that the two pure athletes fail to capture. While the Germans were playing gym-rat at the Nurburgring, the XF was prowling the winding roads around Monaco: the XF doesn’t lack capability, it’s merely too refined to demand a flogging to the last tenth. In an age of speed cameras and expensive speeding tickets, this may be a surprisingly rational reason to choose the Jag.

Of course, there’s the price as well. The XF’s  $52,800 base price includes equipment you’ll pay a lot extra for on any of its German competitors – leather seats, navigation, a keyless “comfort access” system, and many other features. The test vehicle stickered out at $53,900, with the only option being an upgraded sound system – very reasonable for this class. Should you worry about cost of ownership? Probably, but it won’t make much of a difference if you’re already head-over-heels in love.

Beautiful, athletic, easy to live with and graceful – not to mention a fairly cheap date – the XF is quite the seductress, as long as all-out performance capability isn’t your bag. Still, as Jaguar’s ads once claimed, “gorgeous gets away with it,” and this XF bats its eyelashes into third place.

Performance: 3/5

XF’s powertrain is amply powerful and sounds sweet, and paddle shifters are a great addition, but the V-8’s power band is narrow.

Ride: 5/5

The XF has a posh, elegant way of dealing with any road surface

Handling: 4/5

Definitely tuned for comfort, but Jaguar baked in quick reflexes and commendable amounts of feedback.

Exterior: 5/5

Sleek, sexy and elegant

Interior: 3/5

Beautifully styled and made, and user-friendly as well; needless gimmickry and poor rear-seat room cost points

Fit and Finish: 4/5

Looks and feels more handmade than any other car in this test, but exterior finish is not up to the German standard

Toys: 4/5

Great feature quotient for the money, but some of the really good stuff, like ventilated seats, require expensive package upgrades.

“I don’t think this is what Sir William had in mind.” The sleek and sensuous British Racing Green Jaguar XK120 roared along the gravel road on the floor of a remote valley in the middle of Nevada. I doubt William Lyons could have imagined the scene fifty-some years before. The XK120′s speedometer needle waggled vaguely, yet constantly between 60 and 90 MPH—indicating that we had reached ‘ludicrous speed” (given the conditions). A plume of dust streamed out behind the car, the parched solid matter equivalent-yet-antithesis of the liquid rooster-tail following a hydroplane. My co-driver laughed at either my comment or the sheer joy of the moment, it was impossible to tell.

We were participating in the June 2000 running of “La Carrera Nevada”. The event’s a recreation of Mexico’s famous La Carrera Panamericas set in the American outback. The north of the border locale keeps logistics simple and costs low, while satisfying would-be Walter Mitty’s in pre-1955 cars. The participants all drove “Yank Tank” products of Detroit, with two exceptions: two XK120 Jaguars. Jay Lamm drove one and my father and I piloted the second.

The rally traversed some 1200 miles in three days over remote, often unpaved roads. The weather varied from baking sun to howling thunderstorms. The attrition-rate was startling; well over 75 percent of the cars broke down and dropped out. The two Jags finished in fine fettle: dusty, dirty, with true British brass. Sir William Lyons would have been proud, though he might have questioned our sanity. Gentlemen do not go bouncing about on rutted desert tracks in his fine automobiles.

In many ways, the XK120 should not have existed. It was built strictly as a concept car to show off the English automaker’s new XK engine. Conceptualized on a Coventry rooftop during air-raid fire-watches by William Heynes and his engineers, the XK powerplant was born a legend. Debuting at the 1948 London Motor Show, the XK120 was an immediate sensation. There was more than enough demand for the concept to become a profitable production car, so Jaguar got to work. Demand was so high, in fact, that the first few hundred cars were built by hand using wood frames and alloy bodies, while tooling was created to build subsequent models from steel.

It was named the XK120 as a reference to the engine, and the car’s theoretical top speed. While almost all of us look at speedometers that reach that number today, back in the late 1940s this figure was stratospheric. This made the XK120 the fastest production car in the world at that time. A stock example could reach 125, and Jaguar famously tested a slightly modified XK120 on a Belgian freeway clocking an official 136.5 MPH. To illustrate the The DOHC, hemi-head inline-six’s amazing torque, it puttered past the automotive press at 10 MPH in top gear just after the record run. This car was the Bugatti Veyron of its day: the very pinnacle of automotive engineering.

So, what’s it like to drive one?

Actually it’s awful. Awful ergonomics. Awful gearbox. Awful brakes. Awful (actually non-existent) weatherproofing. Awful instruments. Awful steering. Awful seats. Awful everything really, except that amazing engine, which is awfully awesome. (Jaguar fixed nearly all the XK120′s ergonomic and mechanical shortcomings with the XK140 introduced in late 1954.)

Once you manage to get yourself into an XK120, it becomes painfully obvious that this is indeed a styling-exercise-turned-production-car. I’m 5′11″, and the XK120′s driving position is . . . bizarre. My head pokes out above the windscreen. My left elbow sits well outside the car. My knees press up under the dash and rub the backside of the large-diameter steering wheel. To operate the pedals, my ankles flexed into positions feared by circus contortionists. The passenger side offers a bit of relief from this ab-crunching torture, but it’s about as close to comfort as Coventry is to Copiapó.

In terms of driving dynamics, the XK120 is best described as a high-performance tractor. You have an engine with seemingly limitless grunt. You’re wrestling it around with a steering wheel the size of a XXL pizza. You spar endlessly with the Moss gearbox, noted for a straight-cut non-synchro 1st and barely-synchro everything else. You have drum brakes that may or may not stop you, depending on random chance or planetary alignments. Leaf springs and recirculating-ball steering wrap up the whole rustic package of chassis vagueness.

But man oh man, does this thing GO! If you can flex your knee and ankle in the unnatural position required to press the go pedal the XK120 takes off. It was as if Jaguar foreshadowed the Muscle Car 16 years before the Pontiac GTO. Is it any wonder that the very first (and only until 2008) NASCAR race won by an import car was with a Jaguar XK120? When the engine starts growling and the landscape around you begins to blur, the endorphins erase all the pain caused by the Dick Cheney approved ergonomics.

Man is this thing a hoot to drive. Which is exactly what Sir William had in mind.

The sun breaks through trees and plays off the long bonnet. As I loaf along the arrow-straight road, I absorb the soundtrack: the baritone exhaust note of the big-bore, long-stroke, inline-six. Ahead, I spot that sign that makes every true driver shut down the internal dialog in their brain and focus on the here and now: Winding Road. Amazing what a sign can do to lift one’s spirit. In a Jaguar E-Type, elevation quickly becomes ecstasy.

The road dives down and to the left, as I blip the throttle and snap the solid shifter down from fourth into third. As the revs rise and fall the big pipe organ that droned a single note is joined by a mechanical symphony. There’s a distinctive whine from the intake, produced by three trumpeted two-inch Skinner’s Union HD8 carburetors. The entire cylinder head adds a delicious rustle: chain-driven dual overhead cams spinning furiously at the insistence of my right foot. Underlying it all: the booming low notes of the exhaust, throbbing as if The Ox himself was laying down the bass track.

The car handles corners with aplomb; I could take each one at twice the speed without so much as a squeak of complaint from the tires. But the realization that I’m driving a forty-four year old car holds me back. This car was built in a time when going fast and looking good were the priorities, not saving the planet or protecting the occupant. The E-Type’s seat rises as high as my shoulder blades. In a bad shunt, the seat belts would only serve to secure my body while the windscreen decapitated me, in the blink of an eye. No air bags or handling nanny here; the only safety systems on board are my grey matter and the skill of my hands and feet. Stirling Moss will have to wait. Fortunately, even at velocities well within the posted limits, the E-Type provides endless satisfaction. The driving experience is worth risks Ralph Nader could never even imagine.

The E-type Jaguar arrived on the automotive scene in 1961, like a cruise missile vectoring into a stone-age village. It brought with it technologies extracted from the rarified world of endurance racing, bringing world-beating performance to the street for a shockingly reasonable price.

The E-Type outperformed the contemporary Ferrari 410 SuperAmerica ($16,800) or a 250 GT Berlinetta SWB ($11,800), for less than half the price. When new, the Jaguar sold for $5,595. Il Commendatore himself labelled the E-type “The most beautiful car ever made” . . . while swiftly copying it in the form of the 250 GTO, and again with the 275&365 GTB/4s. The E-Type also prompted redesigns of other sports cars, notably here in America, Chevrolet’s Corvette; look at the radical difference between the C1 & C2.

The E-type is a race car adapted for the street, not a purpose-built race car like it’s predecessors, the C-/D-type Jaguars. The E-type appeared in a few races, with two of the first stock units topping the podium in their initial outing at Oulton Park (in their native England). But, in the end, E-Types were not that successful at the big races of the era: Le Mans, Sebring, the Nürburgring. The E-Type always finished near but never at the top of the podium.

Still, the E-Type offered truly innovative-for-the-day technology, some of which has become standard equipment across the automotive spectrum: power-assisted disc brakes, fully-independent rear suspension, unibody construction, rack and pinion steering. In the early ’60s, the E-Type was leading-edge exotica, delivered in the form of reasonably-priced automotive erotica.

Despite its long, low look, the E-Type is deceptively small, especially compared to most other cars on the road. It handles very smoothly thanks to even weight distribution fore and aft; the engine and gearbox sit back well behind the front axle so that weight, with a driver and fuel, is split 50/50. Steering is precise. Oversteer is delivered so smoothly and predictably that in a tight autocross course some steering load can be handled by the loud pedal. Diesel-like torque is available at any RPM, making 50-70+ acceleration and passing on two-lane roads something to seek out and savor.

My E-Type’s original owner purchased the car in Albuquerque, NM. About 15 years ago, my father restored it as his “retirement project” and I bought it from him in 2003 to save his marriage. (True story.) After investing countless hours behind the wheel (and under the bonnet), I can report that the Jaguar E-Type’s not the fastest classic car money can buy. Nor is it the best around a skidpad. But none of that really matters with an E-type Jaguar. The car provides masses of dynamic feedback and makes great noises. Phallic issues aside, it’s drop-dead gorgeous. When you’re heading down a twisting two lane road, when there’s nothing but zen ahead, what else do you need?

Externally, all that separates the “entry level” XF from the Supercharged variant are wheel styles and a boot badge. According to Jag’s Senior Design Manager, that’s because “a customer is buying an XF, rather than an XF in a particular trim level.” (Tell that to the F&I guy.) No question: Jag missed a trick here. Losing the front grill mesh differentiations that once identified the faster (whinier?) cats may please the beancounters and stealth wealth fighter jockeys, but there’s money in them ‘thar body kits.

Anyway, I [still] think the XF’s front end is boring, while the profile and rear are really rather smart indeed.

The XF Supercharged’s cabin is, like the base XF, the finest interior in any mass-produced car built today. The materials put the mmm in sumptuous, and the fit and finish are fitter than Jill Wagner and more finished than the Mona Lisa. Jag's boffins packed-in loads of the trendy gadgets as standard, from touch screen iPod integration to non-SYNC voice command. In contrast to their German and Japanese competition, Jag’s taken great pains to hide the gizmology until summoned (“Jenkins? Be a good man and bring me my Twisted Sister CD”).    

As with the two other [non-particular] Jaguar XF trims, there are only two options: a heated steering wheel and active cruise control. I wouldn’t buy either, because A) the climate control works B) the XF is still a Jag (why tempt the ghosts of Lord Lucas?) and C) the Jaguar XF Supercharged already has what you (as in I) really need: a supercharger. 

Supercharger? What supercharger? Click the XF’s gimmicky (and yet geekily enjoyable) rotating gear knob into drive, gently ease the gas pedal rugwards and the XF’s Supercharged oozes into gear and proceeds at a suitably magisterial pace. The suspension coddles its inhabitants from real life rigors with brand-faithful grace. The moment curiosity gets the better of you, it’s instantly clear the XF Supercharged should be called the “Jaguar F=ma”.

For those unfamiliar with Newtonian physics, that means “Ah Jenkins. It looks as if we’re all about to die.” It must be said: 420hp is a lot of power. It’s enough shove to take the 4200 lbs. XF Supercharged from naught to sixty in five seconds flat. Thanks to 413 ft.-lbs. of twist, there is no effort to speak of; no progressive power build-up or loud exhaust note. The XF Supercharged’s V8 and seamless six-speed simply get on with the business of producing and delivering epic thrust, making a mockery of making a mockery of “lesser” engined sedans.

In fact, the Jaguar F=ma is the automotive equivalent of a young Roger Moore, arched eyebrow and all. Here we have a well-tailored $63k luxury sedan with an apparent predilection for timeless luxury and sedate brandy sniffing (a la Rolls Royce) with an engine that’s always ready, willing and able to get into some sort of no-holds-barred, fight-to-the-death brawl.

There’s no disappointment in handling either. You don’t feel like you’re carrying 2.1 tons of computer-controlled weight into the corners. Like the base XF, the supercharged model is Ali-light on its toes, whisking you around bends with enough neutral attitude and tarmac-clawing grip to satisfy all but the most suicidal driver. Again, the XF Supercharged’s suspension is remarkably un-Germanic in the process, despite 20-inch wheels.

Too many manufacturers think their higher-performance sedans have to imitate track cars, down to rock hard seats, tooth-chipping suspensions, a Cray wedged into the dashboard, carbon fiber and a bad-ass nasty demeanor. The XF Supercharged is another kind of car entirely. It’s a first-tier luxury sedan that just happens to have afterburners in the trunk.

With everything all-in, the Jaguar XF Supercharged undercuts its competitors’ prices. AND it’s better to look at, better to ride in and better to drive. Will it be a hit for Jaguar? Nope. Like the base XF, the Supercharged version lacks that final measure of visual flair and drama the brand’s American adherents demand. Strangely, the automaker’s designers didn’t roll-up their sleeves for this, the most sporting of Jags. Perhaps tastefully aggressive mods are on their way.

Meanwhile, with Jag’s Indian takeover adding fuel to the pyre, the XF Supercharged is destined for depreciation Hell– and used car Heaven.

Let’s get this out of the way: the new XF’s design is a pale shadow of the C-XF concept’s drop dead gorgeous sheetmetal. We’re talking supermodel versus neighborhood bartender. The XF’s front end is a particularly boring transmogrification; it's a little weird and the snout’s portal smacks of Volvo’s blandest. The central bonnet creases are a particularly classless affectation. In fact, you could say the XF is nothing more than a Volvo in a slutty dress.

The back end almost saves the day; it looks like an Aston Martin. It's fantastic. But Ian Callum gets no props for designing the same car over (DB9) and over (V8 Vantage) and over (Jag XK coupe) and over (XF sedan). If Jaguar was going to show a scintilla of individuality, well, they could have hidden the door handles in the B- and C-pillars.

As for the XF’s interior, we've all seen the boring press pictures included here. The company’s PR photographer should be fired for not doing justice to this four-wheeled shrine to automotive luxury.

The XF’s interior’s fit, finish and materials are the best I’ve ever seen in a production car, without exception. If you're the type of person that appreciates exquisite detailing of a fine watch, you can do nothing but marvel at the XF’s cabin. The wood trim in my optionless "Luxury" trim model could have been fashioned by a bespoke furniture maker. The matte finish is both unique and stunning.

The XF’s attention to detail dusts the usual standard bearer Audi. The vents rotate into view when you start the car up (royalty payment to Volkswagen’s ill-fated Phaeton?). They boast aluminum inserts to move their direction, with the word "Jaguar" elegantly stamped on their surface. We're talking about slivers of material the size of long grain rice. The same beautifully finished metal sits at the bottom of the cupholders. Every surface is sensuous to the touch. For once, a Jag/Ford product feels… finished.

Okay, so the exterior is lame, the interior is otherworldly. How does it drive? In a word: Yes. Yes as in the new XF drives as well as you'd hope any Jaguar would.

Jaguar wanted to build a luxury-sports car in keeping with its distinguished brand heritage– a tradition of which Larry the Law Firm Partner neither knows nor cares. What Larry does care about: beating the crap out of Bob’s Benz E350. And with this car, Larry’s good to go.

Jag’s 4.2 liter V8– a carry-over from the last generation S-Type– is the XF’s standard-fit powerplant. “But it only makes 300 horsepower! Lots of V6 engines do that!" Quit your bitching brand defilers, lest you taste the business end of my tassled loafers pushing you into an Acura RL. Even with "only" 300 horsepower underfoot, the entry-level XF accelerates from zero to sixty miles per hour in about six seconds. Besides, the Jaguar XF driving experience is fleet footed. The six speed auto is slicker than snot on a doorknob. The suspension feels buttoned down, with just enough feedback to keep it fun without being abusive.

There are downsides. While the XF is light on its toes, changing direction with confidence-inspiring predictability and hoon-compatible ease, it doesn’t have everlasting grip. Canst thou squeal like a porcine? The XF’s tires can. And the sport sedan’s steering is far too light for a car with genuine performance aspirations. But overall, driving the XF is like piloting a BMW without the e-Nanny hovering over your shoulder. 

So much of this car is so right – the interior, the suspension, the engine and the transmission. Killer depreciation aside, the $50k asking price for a fully loaded V8 XF makes a mockery of the similarly-priced, stripped-out 535i. Unlike the Bimmer, Lexus or Audi equivalents, driving the XF makes you feel special.

It’s too bad that the mid-size Jag’s exterior went from a quaint retro curiosity to an OMG concept car to a quintessentially boring sedan. If Jag had found a way to keep the CX-F’s drama, they would have had a huge hit on their hands. As it stands now, all they have is a bit of time to kill before Ford sells Jaguar or, let’s face it, pulls the plug. Even as a swan song, the XF lacks the looks it needs to fly.   

We know where XF designer Ian Callum stands on the S-Type’s shape: “Our history is precious. We must learn from it but not copy it.” Callum is right about Xeroxing Jag’s heritage, but wrong about the S-Type. While the S-Type’s sheetmetal certainly evokes the same-named sedan of 1963, it’s a true original– especially after it “had some work done” back in '05. That's when Jag eliminated unnecessary frippery (e.g. the prominent door sills), toned-down stylistic excess (e.g. the hideous taillight cluster) and tightened the panel gaps. The streamlined result displays all the feline athleticism Jag fans expect and admire.

The S-Type's details now entrance, rather than annoy. The swan song 3.0 and 4.2 models get the supercharged S-Type R’s mesh oval grill, a delightful olde worlde sporty touch reminiscent of a wooden tennis racket. Jag's also blessed the lame duck lower level models with the R’s deeper, more aggressive front bumper and air dam. Taken as a whole, the cab-rearward S-Type may not be your cup of tea, but neither is it your father's Jag. 

The original S-Type’s cabin was a mess. Suffice it to say, it shared its radio head unit with the Ford Explorer. The current interior’s touch screen sat knavery and sumptuous materials make commoners feel like the Colonel of the Reds and Blues. Supple leather in muted tones covers the console, adorns the thrones and envelops the lower half of the steering wheel. There’s enough polished satin mahogany trim to build a fashionable end table. Chrome rings more chrome. There are private jets with less luxurious surrounds.

The S-Type 4.2’s engine has taken some stick for its stable yard. “A V8 that stumps-up 300 horses?” nay-sayers scoff. “You get more power from an Infiniti/Lexus/Cadillac V6.” Indeed you do, but that’s like saying a Powerbar is suitable nutritional replacement for dinner at a Michelin three-star restaurant. Yes, the S-Type 4.2 could be quicker. But few other V8s offer such linear power delivery, such creamy smoothness, such woofly sub-wooferage under WOT. And though the S-Type's mill is a few steeds short of Mercedes' E550, the Jag’s 6.2 second zero to 60 time is brisk enough to out-pace more plebeian transport. 

The S-Type's six-speed ZF auto is the same transmission that sits in Maserati’s Quattroporte Automatica. Which means nothing really, but why complain? The shifts are brisk and timely. Handling? Sitting on standard 18’s, the S-Type is balanced, predictable and jolly good fun. Although the S-Type's tyres cry Uncle early in the proceedings, electronic-intervention is minimal. Cane the old girl and you’ll be surprised to discover she’s game for laugh. You’ll chortle “I’m going sideways in a bloody Jaguar!” And you’re not even English. More importantly…

Back in ’03, Jag’s chassis engineers realized they’d let the side down in the grace department, and set about reclaiming their brand’s dynamic heritage. At the front, unequal length wishbones now minimise track and camber changes, while the sedan's forged aluminium upper A-frame incorporates two fluid-block bushes and an integral ball joint for added refinement. The upper control arm axis is also inclined, providing improved anti-dive characteristics under heavy braking. Or so I'm told.

I’ll say this about that: the outgoing S-Type offers the finest ride in its class. Potholes, broken pavement and other egregious surface imperfections are dismissed with brand-faithful imperious ease. The S-Type’s magic carpet ride renders the car a perfect long distance executive commuter (save for its 121mph top end) and a suitable Town Car [sic] for ladies who lunch. The well judged variable ratio rack and pinion system handles either chore with equal aplomb.

The S-Type had a good innings; the model lasted two years longer than its eponymous forebearer. It’s easy to see why it failed, and then failed again. The S-Type wasn’t quite right out of the gate, and the subsequent sheetmetal and dynamic upgrades received no marketing support. The model also punched above its weight; priced at $56k, the S-Type lacked the horsepower, cachet and residual values needed to take on its highly evolved German competition. Priced lower…

The new XF will carry over much of the S-Type’s brilliant mechanicals underneath its insipid sheetmetal. Soon, you'll only be able to acquire one of these fine S-Type as a pre-owned model– which is the only sensible way to buy one anyway. In fact, it's a sterling chance to score a blood good bargain. Goodnight dear S-Type. I, for one, shall miss you. 

As far as I’m concerned, Jaguar died the day the suits killed the F-Type. Jag’s prototype Boxster beater had it all: sexy looks, the promise of phenomenal performance and a decent chance of hitting the right price point. But oh no, the American owned company decided to spend its time and money building… diesels. And a badge engineered Ford Mondeo called the X-Type. And estates— sorry, “sportwagons.” So, seven years later, I found myself behind the wheel of Jaguar’s perfect storm: a diesel X-Type Sportwagon. Or, as the Brits say, the dog’s breakfast.

To its credit (however inadvertent), the Sportwagon loses most of the inherent silliness of the X-Type sedan’s XJ mini-me design. While the Sportwagon offers precisely nothing in the way of aesthetic originality, the larger pallet makes it a more convincing faux XJ, a model whose sheetmetal offered virtually nothing in the way of originality over the previous XJ, whose design was a giant leap backwards from its squared-off predecessor. In other words, grandfather clock carrying Jaguar badge snobs need apply.

Despite an elegant tail design (stolen from the previous gen BMW 5-Series wagon) and enormous rear taillights (pilfered from a school bus), the Sportwagon wants the world to think it’s a, um, sport wagon. Our UK-spec tester made a bit more of an effort to project performance than its American counterpart. And I do mean a bit: blacked-out window chrome and [optional] mucho macho Proteus 18” wheels flaunting gold brake calipers. Compared to the gold standard in this niche, Audi’s S and RS Avants, the XTSW looks like a small station wagon wearing oversized running shoes.

At least it’s a small station wagon. With the rear seats folded down, antique dealers and their empty nest clients will be well pleased with the Jag’s class-leading cargo hole, complete with large, properly positioned tie-down rings. With the rear seats in place, schleppers must pack their gear to the rafters. Unfortunately, without a cargo net, passengers risk death by Tumi. In compensation, Jaguar provides a Styrofoam-lined underfloor hole with a 12-volt power point– perfect for hiding your recharging laptop from nosey Narcs.

Forget utility. Our tester’s Sport Premium interior just wasn’t going to let the performance theme die a dignified death. The dash was afflicted with a carbon fiber veneer, a material that belongs in a Jaguar station wagon like Spandex shorts belong on an English footman. The Sportwagon’s thick, leather wrapped steering wheel, highly bolstered seats and six-speed gearbox underlined the model’s accelerative intent. The silver-rimmed white-on-black gauges are elegant in a Darth Vader kinda way, but they lack the large print legibility Jaguar’s target demographic requires.

Before we evaluate the Sportwagon’s sportiness, it’s important to note that Jaguar fits the US version with ye olde 3.0-liter Duratec V6, four wheel-drive and a price tag knocking on 40 large. Our English sacrilege special came with a 2.2-liter diesel, front wheel-drive and a $50k sticker.

OK, fire-up the oil burning Sportwagon. The ensuing clatter sounds like a Manhattan deli dishwasher heard through airplane earplugs. Never mind the noise, feel the G’s! Actually, the first G is “Gee, when is this thing going to get going?” The second is “Gee, why would anyone put this much torque into a front wheel-drive car?” But the third G stands for genuine grunt. Don’t be fooled by the Sportwagon’s distinctly unsportsmanlike 9.3 second zero to sixty sprint. At 2000rpm, the Sportwagon surges with genuine conviction. You’re all done at 4000rpm, but it’s a hoot while it lasts.

In terms of handling, the Sportwagon suffers from a bad case of luxosport bi-polar disorder. The power-assisted steering works wonderfully around town, but makes at speed positioning and mid-course corrections a distinctly dodgy business. The brakes feel pliable in the ‘burbs, seriously squidgy anywhere else. If you somehow master the art of speeding and nothingness, you face yet another dynamic challenge: the Sportwagon’s six speed box is as rubbery as Jim Carrey’s malleable mug.

But abyssmal ride quality is this car’s greatest sin. If the Sportwagon displayed sufficient grace over rough surfaces, you could simply dismiss its sporting pretensions as a bit of harmless, largely theoretical fun, kick back, savor the mileage and cruise. But the Sportwagon’s engineers were determined to make this beast stay flat and level in the corners—which it bloody well does— no matter how poor the resulting ride. Wrong answer.

Yes, well, God knows there’ve been a lot of those over at Jaguar since Ford assumed control of the storied English automaker. The diesel Jaguar Sportwagon embodies all the brand’s failed attempts at snatching some of BMW’s success (even the name sounds like a German translation). Hello? Jaguar didn’t make its bones building ultimate driving machines. They [poorly] crafted saloons and sports cars with pace and grace. Unless Jaguar returns to their founding formula, laughable distractions like the Sportwagon will be their undoing.

Once you get past the pedestrian (and pedestrian friendly) snout, the XK8’s design is pretty damn likeable, in a group consensus sort of way.  Despite the failure of the aluminum XJ to ignite the sales chart, Jag was right to stick with the basic shape and proportions of their “gorgeous” XK.  The front wing “power vents” add a welcome touch of aggression.  My only real gripe is the Jag’s small windows-tall haunches motif.  Do people really enjoy driving around in a bathtub?  The resulting visibility is on a par for the sporty coupe genre: limited and occasionally dangerous.

Strangely, Jaguar’s $75k coupe doesn’t come with a sunroof.  The omission reflects either its native country’s inclement weather or the brand’s lack of marketing savvy.  The hatchback is a nice touch– that could put off buyers who find the feature either downscale or eccentric (BMW’s last Z coupe being the best/worst example of this odd breed).  In any case, the vast majority of American XK buyers go topless.  Too right, mate.  The convertible is both sexier and more practical than the coupe.  The rag top is one of those modern, multiple layer canvasses that keep out most of the road and wind noise, giving vitamin D seekers the best of both worlds.  

The XK8’s interior also offers a choice.  Traditionalists can opt for the demure burnished walnut or poplar wood inserts.  Aluminum accents are available for modernists– or is that masochists?  (Have you ever touched aluminum trim left out in a bright summer sun?)  The XK8 has all of the must-have luxury car gizmos– keyless entry, Bluetooth connectivity, touch screen navigation, satellite radio, MP3, radar-guided cruise control.  Tooling-up your roadster ain’t cheap; the appropriate options packages are a premium on top of a premium-priced car.  At least you get some genuine gee whizzery: a dual-zone climate control system that can be programmed to send de-humidified air to the front windscreen.

The big story about this next gen XK8: aluminum.  Jaguar clearly understands that weight is the enemy of fun, or maybe they just don’t have the antigravity technology used by the Germans in their 4,455 pound sport-licht cars.  Sitting on an aluminum monocoque (as opposed to Audi’s aluminum space frame and body panels), the big British two-door weighs-in a relatively sprightly 3,671 pounds.  Fuel economy is the most significant benefit, rather than the outright performance.  While six seconds to 60 is plenty damn quick for Jag’s core clientele, it’s not enough to lure adrenalin-loving pistonheads.  That said, the 27 mpg highway rating (for either coupe or convertible) is top of the class, and the forthcoming XKR variant will no doubt ratchet-up the performance ante.

The XK8’s all-important handling presents a peculiar combination of traits: soft turn in and appropriately plush responses to uneven surfaces, combined with an extremely stiff chassis.  It is very likeable at first, particularly coming from an ultimate punishing machine.  But after few hard corners, the ride motions begin to feel distinctly nautical.  Initial application of the brakes is also soft, but their capabilities are beyond reproach.  I have the strong sense that this car was designed with the older driver in mind, but the engineers wanted to make sure the performance was still there if the codgers wanted to dig for it.  The result is neither fish nor foul.

The XK8 is a giant leap forward for Jaguar and undoubtedly the best all-round vehicle in the current Ford family.  It boasts an excellent design, more-than-merely-adequate performance, terrific comfort, excellent practicality and a high gizmo count. It handles well, goes well, stops magnificently and flounces along with ease.  So why does the XK8 feel like a watered-down coddling GT?  Because it is a watered-down coddling GT. For some reason, Jaguar has decided to become the Lexus of English automobiles.  Granted, if you liked your last XK8, you will love this one.  But if your driving tastes lean more towards the Porsche end of the spectrum, or if you think a Jaguar “sports car” should have a bit of E-Type aggression in its DNA, don’t bother.

On the more side, the XJR will pleasantly disappoint anyone expecting dodgy electrics, rusting panels and faulty mechanicals. While JD Power's Initial Quality Survey is more about customer satisfaction than build quality, the brand's ascension to the second place slot is a reasonable reflection of the XJR's reliability. No part of the sports sedan seemed predisposed to rot, break, fall off or fail. It's a thoroughly modern machine.

Also on the more side, the XJR is one Hell of a quick car. Give those 390 supercharged horses a prod and the XJR charges down a straight with monumental rapidity– and keeps on going. While there are a few cars of this bulk that can muster a sub-five second sprint to 60, not many offer the XJR's tremendous in-gear shove. With 399ft.-lbs. of torque at 3500rpm, you can morph from double to triple digits with neck-snapping ease. The supercharger whines like a detuned strimmer, but the sound soon forms a neurological pathway to your adrenal glands.

The British luxofighter rides on the company's thoughtfully-named CATS (Computer Active Technology Suspension). The system continuously adjusts the XJR's shock absorbers to match the vehicle's speed and the prevailing road conditions. The car still floats like a butterfly and stings like a butterfly. If only Jaguar's chassis gurus had attached the suspension computer to the gear-holding Sport button, to firm things up by 20% or so. Sadly, surprisingly, Jag's top cat is a comfort-biased machine that's easily flustered by a combination of broken surfaces and lateral G's.

If comfort it is, then comfort it is. Considering the amount of leg and head room in the outgoing XJR (somewhere between slim and none) the new [for-'03] model's generous accommodations are a real bonus. The XJR still feels a bit snug compared to, say, all of the competition, but the extra interior volume adds mightily to the fast Jag's sense of occasion. There's something marvelously decadent about going like stink in an elegantly-tailored, loose-fitting car.

Yes, well, the XJR is also loose-fitting in areas where it should be tight. In fact, a close examination of the XJR reveals a startling lack of attention to detail– especially for a car that costs $83k. You can fit an entire magazine into the panel gaps on either side of the hood. The plastic covering the radiator is both poor and poorly attached. Ditto the carpet lining the trunk lid. The carpets underfoot are a sad (if hard-wearing) departure from the plush Wilton fabric of days gone by. The felt-like material lining the roof and surrounding the cupholders, and the plastic topping the dash, also err on the side of the industrial.

I could go on. So I will. The texture and design of the key (a part nicked from the Euro-spec Ford Mondeo) is so down market that handing it to a parking valet feels like an act of betrayal. Though intuitive, the touch-screen display is more dated than Colin Farrell. The gauges are po-faced. The driver's door won't open without a fight. Etc.

To be fair, for every sybaritic distraction, there's an equal and opposite delight. The stereo is magnificent. The seats are supportive during press-on driving, yet mileage friendly for the long haul. The headlights are brighter than an Oxford scholar. And so on. But we are talking about a car that costs some $10k more than a fully-loaded, anally retentive Lexus LS, or the same as the equally rapid, immaculately constructed Mercedes E55 AMG Station Wagon. Not to put too fine a point on it, you'd be perfectly within your rights to expect more from Jag's finest.

I guess buyers put up with the XJR's English "eccentricities" because of the car's cachet. There's no denying that she's a stunner, blessed with a curvaceous design that easily lives up to Jaguar founder Sir William Lyons' unassailable artistic legacy. Although I am so not an anglophile, I know there are plenty of pistonheads prepared to pay a premium for English snob value. So the question for potential XJR-lovers comes down to this: are you willing to forgo perfection for supersonic speed and aristocratic bearing? If so, think of the XJR's irony as nothing more than an arched eyebrow on the face of a beautiful woman. Hold on, isn't that a metaphor?

It's a shame. The E-Type is the most visually stunning car ever made. Allegedly. Forty-one years after its Geneva debut, the nose-heavy styling still stirs debate. Some consider the Series One E-Type Roadster a timeless classic, blending feminine curves with sporting intent. Others see it as the original 'sports car as phallic symbol', embodying the embarrassing hyper-sexuality of a severe mid-life crisis. Love it or mock it, you can't ignore it. Jaguar's first E-Type still has enormous presence, and perfectly judged detailing. From wire wheels to aircraft style toggle switches to the clearly labelled 'cigar' lighter, you wouldn't want to change a thing.

Which is a bit funny really, as Henry and his eaglets have modified, upgraded or replaced every single component. And I do mean everything: engine, brakes, suspension, chassis, body shell, wiring, starter, seats, steering wheel, leather, hood, wheels, fascia, windshield wipers, headlights, window locks, the lot. The entire car has been brought up to zero mileage. Wait a second. Does that mean that's JC's 'Car of the Century' is actually a car from this century? Yes and no…

The Eagle begins life as a genuine 4.2 litre E-Type roadster. Everything save the engine, gearbox, axle and suspension is binned. The bits left behind are stripped down, repaired and rebuilt. The improved internals are mated to an all-new monocoque shell, constructed with more precision than anything the car's Brown's Lane birthplace could muster. Equally important, the rustproofed body is attached to the car's original bulkhead. That makes the Eagle E-Type a 'restoration', exempt from modern safety legislation and US luxury car taxes. The donor car's chassis plate confirms the slight of hand- and qualifies the Eagle for both historic racing and 'Clarkson's Top 100'.

Sixteen hundred man-hours and £115,737 later, and you've got a flawless top-down E-Type. Everything works. Nothing rusts. No leaks. No rattles. You're ready to kick some Porsche butt. Well, almost. To give Stuttgart's finest a run for its money, and earn JC's Seal of Approval, you have to fork over another £45k to Eagle. They'll use the money to upgrade your car to 'Sport' specification. You get sport cams, a big bore exhaust, new suspension and steering geometry, vented front brake discs and a 5-speed gearbox. Then and only then is your 'shaguar' ready to taste a bit of porker. Yeah baby!

Better you than me Austin. Like I said, I've got 'issues' with the Sport set-up. The steering is heavier than deuterium and more direct than Federal Express (take that Clarkson!). Give the Nardi steering wheel the tiniest of nudges and 'things' start to happen. While the Eagle is planted like an oak tree (and that!), the front end fidgets constantly. That epic nose follows every rut, camber and painted line like a bloodhound after an escaped convict (and that!). The car's suspension bucks and kicks. If you're not paying attention, 'things' could easily turn into 'moments'. I know: some people like that kind of thing. They call it 'driving'. By the same token, some people like root canal surgery. They call it 'dentistry'. (There. I'm done.)

With its hard suspension, broad tyres (225/60) and high-ratio steering rack, the 285bhp Eagle Sport may be the perfect track day Q-car. I'm willing to take Henry's word that the faster you drive the beast, the easier and more intuitive it becomes. In the right hands, the Eagle E-Type in Sport specification could humiliate many a Sunday racer. But for mere mortals on a public road, it's too scary. JC may beg to differ, but I reckon this Eagle has made a great landing at the wrong airport. The E-Type's distinctive style suggests effortless, stylish cruising- not sadomasochistic thrashing. 'Ahhh,' says Henry, 'You want an Eagle GT.'

We return to Henry's ever-increasing number of Sussex barns and jump into George Best's old (and ugly) fixed-head coupe. This is an 'Engineered By Eagle' E-Type. It's an upgraded original car, rather than a ground-up re-manufacture. Just to add to the confusion, Mr. Best's old E-Type has been almost but not quite raised to Henry's GT spec.

Anyway, the footballer's cast-off is a good £75,000 cheaper than an Eagle-E-Type Sport. It's also proof positive that the GT Specification is the right choice for anyone who wants an E-Type they can use, not abuse. The damn thing is so smooth it practically glides. The steering is light but precise. The 4.2 litre engine has so much effortless, low-down grunt that you can stick it in third and call it good. Town, country, motorway- just kick back, relax and enjoy the view. Driving a meticulously made Eagle GT roadster with the top down along a winding country road in the late evening summer sun must surely rate as one of the world's finest driving experiences. Whether I'd pay £135,000 for the privilege of owning a brand new old car is another story.

Actually, if I could, I would. I'm a sucker for any machine with a high LB-FGF (Laid Back Feel Good Factor). So I'm saving up. Meanwhile, JC's veneration of the Eagle E-Type Sport has given me insight into the man's character. If the curly-haired curmudgeon should happen to pull up behind me in some exotic hot rod, I think I'll simply move over and let him pass. And if you believe that, I've got a Jaguar XK120 I'd like to show you.

Except it doesn't. Yes, the XK is fast. The standard 4.0 litre car zooms from zero to sixty in 6.6 seconds. The supercharged XKR makes the same dash in 5.1. But anyone who loves life (or hates insurance forms) shouldn't try to carry that speed into a corner. The heavyweight XK8 is a cleverly disguised boulevard cruiser. Ask it to change directions quickly and, well, hippo-type wallowing ensues. It doesn't matter if you try to counter the XK's 'hard-a-starboard' body roll with brakes, acceleration, opposite lock or prayer. Bad things happen. Owners quickly learn to restrict their fun to straight-line blasts or slow motion posing.

In some ways, the XKR is worse. Although it has more power, wider tires, stiffer suspension and slightly better brakes, it lacks the XK's early warning system. A standard car lets you know you're dicing with the limits of adhesion and chassis control before you crap out. The XKR gives you little advance notice of impending chaos, and no quarter when it arrives. It's Blitzkrieg motoring: one second all's right with the world, the next you're upside down in a ditch with the Germans laughing at you.

Luckily for enthusiasts everywhere, a small tuning company called Paramount can give the XK the sporting performance it deserves. And I do mean small; Paramount is to small what Ford is to big. We're talking one mechanic stashed away in the back of the owner's commercial plant nursery, working on one car at a time. Simon Dyer, Paramount's Sales Manager, claims his company breathes its magic on some 150 XKs a year. Maybe. One thing is for sure: a 'normal' XK would take one look at a Paramount XKR 450 Grand Prix and say, 'That's what I want to be when I grow up!'

Hunkering down on lowered suspension, sporting 19' shoes, breathing through a grey mesh grille set in an all-business carbon fibre fairing, Paramount's silver demonstrator bristles with serious intent. The engine provides a suitable soundtrack for the visual assault. A 'normal' XK or XKR sounds like an ant farting in the next room. The Grand Prix is equipped with Paramount's patented 'Tiger Cat' exhaust system. When Simon fired it up, the damn thing growled at me. Given my previous experience, barely catching a tail-happy XKR on a long sweeping bend, I couldn't decide if the newly vocal V8 was issuing a warning or a promise.

Simon took the wheel first. Ignoring hand-drawn signs warning visitors to amble by the greenhouses, Simon left base camp in a Sweeney style spray of gravel. When gravel turned into tarmac, he floored it. The exhaust howled. The supercharger whined. The tyres gripped. We surfed on an endless wave of torque, heading straight for triple digits – and a speed bump. Full anchors yanked us back to a crawl in a bit less than four seconds. It's hard to imagine a salesman from an authorised Jaguar dealer performing that particular party trick. Of course, he wouldn't have the wheels for the job…

We joined the M40 and loped along just under the ton. As I settled into the reworked cabin, I was more than a little put-off by my surroundings. Paramount had replaced all the car's wooden panels with carbon fibre, killing the XK's 'gentlemen's club' serenity. Combined with black leather, the effect was both tasteless and claustrophobic. Paramount's craftsmen would have been far better employed finding a sporting alternative to the standard car's ugly and unsupportive seats.

Simon sang the praises of the basic XK: build quality, reliability and ergonomics. He rattled off the modified car's technical specifications: AP racing brakes and callipers (£3,300), upgraded springs and shocks (£2,800), switchable steering weight (£500), improved air induction system (£370), revised engine management control (£455), etc. Meanwhile, I wondered why Paramount's chief test pilot was demonstrating a sports car on a four-lane motorway.

Ignoring my hints that there's no substitute for personal experience ('My turn! My turn!'), Simon explained that Paramount sends most of its performance parts to the US for dealer fitting. The hairy-chested stuff, like the 450bhp engine upgrade (£6,300), must be installed by Paramount. Guiding him back onto my track I agreed: 'Okay, that's the 'what', Now show me the 'why'.'

We finally made the switch at a lay-by. When I pushed the drilled aluminium accelerator into the black carpet, the car's automatic gearbox was as confused as a sherry-addled pensioner. The box changed down, then down some more, then up a bit, then gave up and stuck us back in top gear. Simon switched on the Grand Prix' sequential gearbox. Unlike the Alfa or Porsche systems, Paramount's wheel-mounted buttons delivered swift, crisp changes, both up and down the ratios. As long as you forget about first gear (the car will pull from standstill in second without a grumble), it's the path to predictable power.

As we crossed the Thames, I recognized one of my favourite hill climbs. Finally, the big cat could stretch her legs. My XKR phobia receded with each corner. Paramount's mods had transformed a squidgy luxury car into a true sports car. Its road manners were impeccable: no body roll, astounding grip and a thoroughly composed and communicative chassis. The Grand Prix just went where she was pointed. Switch off the traction and stability controls, and she still went where she was pointed. Late braking, hard cornering and savage stabs at the go pedal had little effect on the car's poise.

Personally, I told Simon, I think I'd prefer a modified XK, rather than an XKR. I just can't get on with the supercharger's incessant whine. I'd gladly sacrifice 140 horsepower to hear the full glory of an unadulterated V8. Simon says: 'go faster!'

Armed with an assurance that the Jag's portly backside would eventually slide in a predictable and controllable way, I pressed on. Nothing. At speeds that would have thrown a normal XKR at a tree, the Paramount car just got on with the business of cornering. Maybe I could put up with that whine after all. With a more skilled hand at the helm, the 450 Grand Prix would give many an Italian supercar a decent run for its money.

Fans of the legendary Jaguar marque will sit up and take notice at that statement. A Jag that can take on Italian exotics, and still cosset the driver in traditional British luxury? After driving Paramount's XKR, one wonders why Jaguar hasn't heard the news. Surely, Ford's Premium Automotive Group must realise that a 'sporting' XK would find a whole new, non-golfing audience. Besides, why should they leave it to an obscure specialist outfit to show the world that Jaguar's sporting heritage hasn't been lost in Luxury Land?

Simon Dyer suggests Ford may not want Jaguars to outperform their toweringly expensive cousins over at Aston Martin. Or perhaps the marketing boys are holding fire until they can unveil their Boxster-bashing F-type. I suppose it's a question of priorities. Jaguar covets the golf-club set, and thinks the best XK for them is a laid-back cruiser. A small percentage of XK owners disagree. They've decided that classic looks and a smooth ride are crucial, but high performance is Paramount.