Sometimes I have troubles viewing Lexus with an objective eye. The first car that ever excited me was the 1993 Lexus LS400 my best friend’s dad bought. It wasn’t the driving experience that delivered the “wow” factor; it was the fact that everything inside seemed deliberately perfect from the leather seams, to the wood that wasn’t bubbling and peeling like a 2 year old Jag.  In truth, the LS400, like most Lexus models, was a bit boring, but as this LS example has survived almost 20 years and 300,000 miles with an owner that doesn’t believe in regular maintenance, excitement is not the biggest selling point, but perhaps it should factor in there somewhere. We’ve heard it from Lexus before: wait! We have an exciting car this time! This year’s example: the 2013 GS. You’ve heard my comrade Jack’s take in part one, lets dive into part two.

The previous generation GS was unremarkable looking, so much so that when I was car shopping in late 2006, the dealer had a single all-new (at the time) GS model on the floor getting zero foot traffic while shoppers gravitated towards LS and IS models.

So how about the new mid-size sedan? The new GS may raise some eyebrows with its swoopy profile and hourglass-shaped “spindle” grill, but the design is far from adjectives like: dramatic, exciting, or polarizing. (Admittedly, the E-Class is not very stirring either.) The overall look is sporty, sensible and thoroughly Lexus. Sort of like a sensible sneaker rather than a snazzy pump. Under the hood of the GS beats only one engine choice: the same 306HP 3.5L V6 and 6-speed automatic as in the lighter, more nimble IS350 in regular or hybrid flavors. (Gone is the V8 from previous models due to sagging sales.)

Lexus told us at the press event that less than 5 percent of  mid-size luxury vehicles (including BMW, Mercedes and Audi) were purchased with a V8 last year, I’m thinking that number is a stretch based on the number of E550s I see on the road. True to form however, Lexus indicated that those who desire V8 power will be satisfied with the 338HP hybrid GS450h.

This year’s 450h gets a tweaked 3.5L Lexus V6 with a revised RWD Hybrid Synergy Drive transmission. While 335HP sounds fun, the competition delivers 400+ turbo-charged in their V8 models, I’m not sure the hybrid provides true competition. What it does however is deliver 30+ combined MPGs with its refined CVT and more green-cred than anything in the segment except perhaps the M35h. Lexus tells us that while the GS350′s transmission is mostly caryover, there is a reason: Lexus’ track testers found an 8-speed transmission hunted more than they would like. Haven’t we been saying that all along?

Inside the GS we see more sweeping changes. Gone is the dominating center stack that flowed into the center console, in its place we get a decidedly BMWeque dashboard with a strong horizontal theme dominated by a large 12.3-inch wide-screen LCD and an old-school analogue clock (an interesting choice for an interior trying to be youthful). The interior arrangement is certainly dramatic, the downside is that Lexus has swapped the easy to use touch screen for their awkward joystick device.

If you think iDrive is a pain to use, Lexus’ new Enform system may take you to an all-new level of frustration. Since all the GS sedans at the release event were equipped with the navigation system, we can’t comment on the look sans-nav which I am told uses a smaller screen.

Luxury shoppers love dead tree as much as they love dead cow and the GS delivers on both counts. While full-leather upholstery is still not on the menu, you do get the latest in auto trends: a stitched leather dashboard. The stitched dash, improved seats and available “un-lacquered” wood trim make the interior look almost Scandinavian in design, a great improvement over last year’s interior.

Hybrid buyers are treated to a first in automotive interiors: bamboo. The light wood is far more attractive in person than pictures might indicate, and while I question the “renewable resource” marketing on a large luxury sedan, like the hybrid drivetrain, I’m sure it will make shoppers feel special, and that’s what luxury is all about anyway. Bamboo is definitely renewable, you need a nuclear device to stop it from growing.

Improvement rather than re-invention seems to be Lexus’ mantra, and this theme repeats itself with the hybrid battery pack. Instead of sporting lithium-ion batteries like the Infiniti G35h, the GS450h still gets by with “ye-olde” NiMH batteries with improved packaging to net more usable trunk space. One body in the trunk is OK, but two are still a squeeze.

Since Lexus has always been “the Japanese Mercedes”, it should come as no surprise that the GS350 comes with some of the most comfortable seating available. Base model GS350s receive 10-way power adjustable seats, F-sport models get 16-way seats with adjustable side bolsters and four-way lumbar support, and should the “luxury package” tickle your fancy, you’ll get 18-way thrones covered in semi-aniline cow. Wondering what the 18-ways are? The high end throne has an articulating back, the same inflating bolsters, adjustable thigh support, four way lumbar and “butterfly” headrests. Needless to say, if you have trouble finding a comfortable seating position, you’re not human.

On the gadget front, the GS is playing catch up with the competition. Of course, most shoppers check only a few option tick-boxes, and that’s what Lexus is counting on. Available goodies include an adaptive suspension system, full-LED headlamps (hybrid only), radar cruise control, night vision, lane departure warning with lane keep assist, smartphone app integration, pre-collision warning, a single-color heads-up-display, and an 835-watt Mark Levinson sound system. Much to my surprise, shoppers won’t find any collision mitigation systems (the ones that auto-brake for you) in the GS, nor will they find a radar cruise control system that will handle stop-and-go traffic, “virtual bumpers” massaging or anti-fatigue seats, snazzy 3-D Google maps, iPod voice control or even automated parking.

In contrast, the Infiniti M has more nannies than a pack of trust fund babies. The nannies will intervene in fairly drastic fashion to keep you from spilling your milk. The GS takes a different approach with the Lane Keep Assist providing only the slightest of nudges when you drift from your lane. The pre-collision warning operates in a similar fashion: it will let you know your bacon is in danger, but won’t do much to save it, that’s up to you. Since we were driving pre-production vehicles that still needed some gizmo-tuning, I’ll save my final word for a full review, but if you are anti-nanny, then Lexus’ gentle reminders of your bad driving habits may be more palatable than the systems from the Europeans.

Out on the open road, the GS continues to deliver the Lexus signature smooth and quiet ride. Keeping in mind we were driving pre-production cars, both Jack and I noticed the GS models seemed to be wanting in the thrust department. A quick run in each car yielded some lackluster 0-60 times of 6.8 seconds in the GS350 F-Sport and 6.4 seconds in the GS450h, more than a full second behind the 5.5 seconds Lexus quoted. While the E350 is no speed daemon, the 535i is notably faster than the GS, in a straight line. If you were about to write off the GS for poor road manners, as Jack said in part one; the GS350 surprisingly provides not only better balance but significantly more front end grip and more road feel than the 535i.

As I have said before, I usually prefer the better handling slower car to the poorer-handling faster car, The GS is no different and scores serious points with me. The decision not to include an Infiniti M35h in the track line-up seemed a strange one to me as it is the GS450h’s main competitor in the minds of everyone I quizzed at the event. In this match up unfortunately the GS450h’s only main selling point is a smoother transmission. Maybe that’s why it was conspicuous by its absence. You can check out our recent review of the Infiniti M35h for more information.

While Lexus has yet to release pricing, a little birdie told me to expect a slight increase in the base price. The whole price range should be similar to the outgoing model. Therefore, I would expect the GS530 to start around $47,000 with the GS450h starting near $59,000. Unless Lexus can pull a rabbit out of their hat, this makes the GS350 only a very slight bargain compared with the E350, 535i or A6 3.0T, but still a significant amount more expensive than the 528i or A6 2.0T, not to mention the Volvo S80 T6 or Hyundai Genesis 5.0 R-Spec.

If production models don’t meet the 5.5 second 0-60 time, then despite 306HP, the competition for the GS350 will really be the 528i and A6 2.0T. Interestingly, Mark Templin from Lexus indicated they do not plan on attacking the Germans at every front, instead staying focused on the meat of the Luxury market. For Lexus, this means (for the moment at least) no V8, and no dedicated performance line. Sound like Volvo? In a way, with the GS not competing head on with the big-boys they are making themselves more of a direct competitor for a 2^ndtier luxury brand such as Volvo or Hyundai’s Genesis.

Since Lexus only brought along a BMW and Mercedes to play with, I must go off memory on the Genesis and S80 T6. Both the Genesis and S80 T6 provide more performance for the dollar than the Lexus (especially the Genesis 5.0 R-Spec) but the Lexus leads in refinement. The S80′s FWD biased AWD drivetrain makes it a competent highway cruiser and the turbocharged 3.0L engine makes it faster in our testing in a straight line, but the GS is by far the better handling vehicle.

The Genesis presents an incredible value proposition, it does not have the GS’ array of safety technologies, lacks rear seat climate control, a heads-up display and night vision, but it is significantly cheaper. You also get three different engine options to choose from, two of which are more potent than the Lexus offerings and all of which are cheaper than we expect the base GS to be. Still, there are only a small segment of shoppers willing to cross-shop a mainline luxury brand with  Hyundai, but the number is growing. Lexus’ reputation for reliable engineering is of course still a factor, but the competition has also been paying attention. Stay tuned for a full review on the GS350 and 450h in the coming months.

Lexus flew Jack Baruth and Alex Dykes to Las Vegas, put us up in a swanky hotel, and gave us a delicious chocolate car. If you want to know more about that chocolate vehicle, you obviously aren’t a fan of us on Facebook. For shame.

When it rains, it pours. Both Alex Dykes and I were lucky enough to get a slot in the West Coast media introduction for the 2013 Lexus GS350, GS350 F-Sport, and GS450h. Rather than do a “Take One” and “Take Two”, we decided to handle it the way OutKast would. Alex, like OutKast’s BigBoi, will be delivering a robust, well-rounded album, er, review, chock-full of on-road impressions and wide-angle interior photography. I will play the Andre3000 role (of course) and share with you The Love Below: performance-related impressions from driving four different GS variants, along with the Mercedes E350 and BMW 535i, through Las Vegas Motor Speedway’s short road course.

Put the needle on the record and the pedal to the metal: it’s time to meet the new Lexus.

The GS has been the lonesome loser in the Lexus lineup since it was introduced. Quick history lesson: Once upon a time, Giugiaro’s ItalDesign firm created an unsolicited design for a future Jaguar, calling it the Jaguar Kensington Concept. Here it is:

Jaguar wasn’t buying, but Toyota was, and they used the basic design for a home-market Crown Aristo in 1991. That car ended up being available with all sorts of bad-assed machinery including a turbocharged straight-six and all-wheel-drive, but the North American market received it in 1993 as the rather sedate, normally-aspirated, RWD Lexus GS300. The next generation was styled in-house with quasi-Benz four-eyed headlights; the (current) one after that was a generic “L-Finesse” blandwagon. They’ve never sold worth a damn, perhaps because they’ve never offered much of a value alternative to the German competition. Go price out an S550 and an LS460, then repeat the comparison with the E350 and GS350. Whoa, right?

Lexus can’t change what they’re charging for the car. The content, the yen, the blah blah blah. So instead they’ve decided that the new GS will compete on traditionally German attributes. It will be styled more aggressively, contain more wacky features, and be better to drive than the BMW, Benz, and Audi. Any mention of Infiniti is carefully avoided. They’re second tier, dontcha know.

Alex will discuss the styling; my opinion is that it’s yet another Japanese take on the long shadow of Chris Bangle’s flame-surface ideas, with a pleasing homage to the 1984 Celica Coupe’s taillights. Let’s get to the comparison with the E350 and 535i, shall we?

Start with the interior: it’s noticeably more cramped cozy than the Germans. Bangle’s with us here, too, in the horizonal wood-and-polished-metal layout, but Lexus has married that idea with a traditional center console, complete with J-pattern shifter. It’s tougher to get in and out of than the Benz or Bimmer.

Around LVMS’s short course, the base GS immediately impresses. Rather than split the difference between the E350 and 535i’s control efforts, Lexus has chosen to go hardcore. Through the initial slalom, the Lexus carries more speed than the others. Unfortunately, the engine does split the difference, and it’s closer to the poky Benz than the torquey BMW. Thanks to a dopey “engine sound generator” attached to the intake, you get plenty of aren’t-we-sporty growl, but the E350 delivers similar thrust in a more dignified fashion. The BMW? Well ahead. If the GS were a “ghost car” on our test course, like in Gran Turismo, we would see the BMW beat it to the final gate handily on power, while the Mercedes requires a minor lift before that last gate that the others simply don’t.

Reaching the long, sweeping back corner, the BMW is ahead, but the Lexus claws a lot of the gap back! How? Simple: it has more front-end grip. The Benz, meanwhile, proves to be a trustworthy companion, accurately conveying the traction situation despite light steering. Light doesn’t mean bad, you know. All three cars are surprisingly neutral given their weight and size.

They also all have adequate braking for this short, low-speed (well under 90mph tops) course, even as the journo-hacks tirelessly corner-brake again and again over the course of hours. The second half of our test track consists of two fast corners and another evasion gate. Again, the BMW shows the beauty of its engine, while the GS displays its ability to choose and maintain a line throughout the turn. It’s funny, really. A Lexus, delivering a more neutral balance than a BMW. What we could really use here is a combination of everyone’s best assets. A turbo GS, or a big-motor GS.

What we get instead is a hybrid. On the LVMS course, the GS450h is useless. It handles just fine, but the nature of the event doesn’t let the battery charge. The result: instead of being a GS with more power (338hp combined, while the standard GS has 306) it’s a GS with more weight. Make no mistake, though, this is no Prius. It’s probably just as fast around the course as the E350, even with a depleted battery.

The star of the event was the GS350 F-Sport, which adds 19-inch wheels and optional rear-steer to the mix. Rear-steer? Oh, yes. The Japanese love rear steer the way they love “success cats”, and Toyota has engineered a nice, compact electronic system. The F-Sport could be driven flat-out from the starting line to the exit of the slalom/gate system down the first straight. In my hands, the F-Sport was very, very quick in direction changes, as you’d expect. It’s as simple as turning the console suspension knob to “S+”, (any relation to BMW’s “Sport+ setting is strictly intentional) giving the F-Sport slow, precise steering motions, and letting the back wheels simply complete the motion around the pointer cones. More agility with less steering input. I love it.

Riding right-seat with another journo, I saw the system work very differently. This fellow would saw at the wheel, causing the rear-steer to respond with very big motions at the back. After a moment or so of lurid sliding, the stability control would intervene and calm everything down. My colleague hated the rear-steer. The lesson: it’s a finesse tool. Use it appropriately. Alex Dykes, by the way, was quite rapid around the course in the F-Sport and easily outpaced many of the people who claimed to be “fast”. The key? He has slow, controlled steering motions. If Lexus really wanted my business, they would let me use the wacky mouse controller on the armrest to dial-in my preferred degree of rear-steer on the fly. Top speed freeway run? Turn it off. Local autocross? Set phasers to kill.

Speaking of autocrossing… Lexus set up a 35-second cone layout for us to all try the GS350 AWD model, which was not available on the road course. No competitive vehicle was available. I set fast time of the day (at least until I left to catch my flight) but couldn’t bring myself to love that car at all. It was the slowest, piggiest, and least pleasant GS. Save the driven front axle for your grandmother or the hopelessly inept. Give me the F-Sport.

Actually, don’t give me the F-Sport. While it was the car of choice at LVMS, on the open road I found the GS450h really came into its own, particularly with its dirt-cheap, Chinese-grown-and-harvested environmentally-responsible bamboo trim package. Here’s the problem. The F-Sport whipped the (Lexus-provided) BMW and Benz on the road course, no sweat. Unfortunately for Lexus, the sales race is decided in showrooms, not on coned-up racetracks, and once you get to the showroom, you’re likely to find that it’s actually cheaper to lease a neighbor-impressing German mid-sizer. Why pick the GS over cars which have more street cred and do everything else just as well? Only the hybrid has the answer. With an expected 30mpg combined mileage (confirmed for me by the 30.8 the “h” reported during my street drives), a uniquely-themed interior, and all the anti-conspicuous-consumption emotional baggage you can possibly pack into a $60,000 car, it’s simply the most satisfying model available, and it’s the only Lexus GS that says anything to anyone — other than “I just saved $2000 on my luxury car.”

In a segment virtually defined by forty-something social climbers trying to eke out the most bling possible from a limited budget, Lexus is playing a losing hand. If I had to keep any of these cars for 200,000 miles, of course I would pick the GS. Does anybody really do that? Proabably not. If you do, however, feel free to purchase the Lexus, with my blessings… and I never, ever, ever thought I would write it, but consider the hybrid, okay?

If there’s one thing you get here at TTAC, it’s diversity. Well, it’s actually sarcasm, but you also get diversity. Here’s an example: This week, we tested two different cars. Out on the West Coast, Alex and his partner were rolling around in a completely electric Nissan Leaf. Imagine them, gliding silently down the road, perhaps having a polite conversation about the proper color of glass for one’s table service. No, that isn’t a stereotype, I happen to know that he’s actually worrying about that. Think of the peace! The quiet! The sustainability!

Meanwhile, on the East Coast, your humble author was thumping a Lexus IS-F down the back straight at Summit Point’s Shenandoah Raceway. I had a stunning-looking young woman from metro DC trapped in the passenger seat and digging her nails into the door handle. We were swinging the needle past 110mph, deep into the braking zone, gulping fuel at a rate of just four miles per gallon.

It’s hard to believe that one site can bring you both kinds of coverage, the same way it’s hard to believe that the Leaf and the IS-F can both be produced by the same enormous Japanese conglomerate.

That’s because they aren’t produced by the same enormous Japanese conglomerate, of course. I just wanted to see how many of you ran off to comment about my stupidity before reading the rest of the article.

The IS-F is authentically Japanese, however. Its distended nose is a direct tribute to the original long-nose Celica Supra, and like the Supra, the change is necessary to make the engine fit. In white, the IS-F often looks as if it is about to challenge Captain Ahab for supremacy of the sea. Your opinion may vary.

Car and Driver’s opinion of the changes made to the IS-F for 2011 — limited-slip differential, completely revised suspension — is that they put it on par with the BMW M3. Having recently driven the M3 during our Mustang BOSS 302 test, I’m not so sure. Although the collective M3 owner group is the most loathsome bunch of subhumans since the Manson Family, the car itself deserves no such criticism and on track it’s almost self-directing despite its weight and complication. I can see the IS-F being able to stay close to the M3 at tracks like VIR and Road America where it could stretch its legs. Our test track, Summit Point’s “Shenandoah” course, has no such opportunity. One of my journalist pals takes the IS-F out for a spin and I have no trouble keeping up, using a V6 “Mayhem” Mustang. True, the IS-F drops the ‘Stang on the back straight and out of certain corners, and it has a genuine advantage in “Big Bend” where it just seems slightly more comfortable doing the high-speed, constant-load thing than the aforementioned ponycar, but in the tight sections the IS-F flounders, requiring its driver to turn it on the throttle.

Which, by the way, is easy to do. When it’s my turn to take a seat in the IS-F’s two-tone interior, which is a seeming attempt to combine a whorehouse, Superfly’s Eldorado, and the video game “GORF”, I set the eight-speed transmission to manual mode and end up going sideways on the pitlane exit. This is a big-hearted engine, and it’s amazingly close to Ford’s “Coyote” five-liter in character. The way it catapults the IS-F down Shenandoah’s short straights is positively Supermarine, old boy.

If only the transmission would play ball. With a six-speed manual, the IS-F would be fun. With a dual-clutch auto, it would be quick. The transmission is fundamentally a conventional torque-converter, planetary-gear automatic. “Manual” shifts take place pretty much whenever the transmission feels like it, which is almost never immediately after one clicks the paddles. Once you’re rolling, the torque converter locks and all shifts are absorbed by the planetary clutches. Honestly, if the transmission came from anyone else but Toyota I would describe it as “a grenade waiting to happen,” but I haven’t heard any reports of it being anything other than reliable. Every shift, however, feels like bloody mechanical murder and it makes driving the car in wet conditions a bit of a challenge. The clutches engage with a “bump” and if you’re already at the limit of traction you are going to have a chance to become acquainted with the I’m-off-no-wait-I’m-really-on-but-waiting-for-you-to-screw-up stability control. The electronic leash on this call pulls tight and it can kill forward progress around a racetrack like an arrester hook.

With a little more grip from the front end, the IS-F would be even quicker. Blame the 225-width front tires, which are thirty millimeters narrower than the rears and simply give up too quickly when asked to shove the nose around in a hurry. I’d balance mine out to 265s all the way ’round.

The brakes, on the other hand, could be left alone. Pedal feel is good, which is important since for most trackday drivers this car will be a point-shoot-brake-turn device. I didn’t experience any fade during my two sessions, although to be fair one session was in the wet and the other was limited to about eight laps. Another nice surprise: the ABS isn’t in a massive hurry to engage.

My overall experience with the IS-F was pleasant. It’s more than fast enough on the track, and if the transmission doesn’t work very well at least the rest of the running gear is up to snuff. The competition is all of either questionable reliability (M3, C63, RS4 when it arrives) or dubious prestige (CTS-V). I would be happy to own one. In fact, it’s probably the only Toyota I would be willing to own. The ridiculous exuberance of the sperm-whale snout, dopey stacked faux-tailpipes, and “Unique Whips” interior just about rescue the IS-F from the shameful, completely manufactured prestige associated with Lexus. I’d probably end up being one of those morons who puts “Toyota Crown Altezza Century Super Bongo” badges on his IS simply to avoid parking-lot chats with soccer moms who just love their RX350.

Naturally, any misconception of “Toyota” ownership would be shattered when the monthly lease statement arrived. Lexus made their name in this country with bargain-basement pricing, and the LS460 still sells at a five-figure discount compared to the Germans. The IS-F, on the other hand, is priced heads-up with the C63 and slightly above the M3. On the positive side, you’re buying a car that is far more likely to knock out 200,000 miles than either of the above. On the other hand: AMG money for a Toyota with a deformed hood, a make-do automanual, and white leather seats? At $50K this car makes a solid case for itself as a 335i alternative. At $65K, its appeal will be limited to only the most hardcore of Lexus fanatics, assuming any exist.

Perhaps Alex and I were really reviewing the wrong cars. He could have traveled serenely to work and play in an IS-F, knowing it would never break and that it would be recognized everywhere as a wise choice. Any deficiencies versus the big Germans wouldn’t matter much on the open road. Meanwhile, I could take some gorgeous broad out of the town and we could clutch each other in shared terror at the prospect of being stranded somewhere. Range anxiety? Maybe that’s more exciting than anything Lexus has to offer.

This is at least the fourth review of the Lexus IS-F, although it is the only one of the 2011 model. P.J. Mc Combs did the original review here. Robert Farago called it “the Bimmer’s bitch” in his Take Two. Michael Karesh performed a comprehensive styling and handling review of the 2010 model here. Disclaimer: Lexus provided this vehicle to Speed:Sport:Life, for which your humble author is also a contributor. Photography by the delightful Nicole Gagnon and the less delightful Jack Baruth.

When I was car shopping back in 2006 the Lexus IS350 found its way to the top of my spreadsheet, and I do mean spreadsheet. With anal resolve I had evaluated 8 vehicles, scored them, photographed them, ranked them and the IS350 came in second. What was first? A Volvo V70R (apples and oranges, I know). At the time I thanked the helpful Lexus sales guy and told him “if there was an AWD IS350, I’d buy it tomorrow.” Well, 5 years later there finally is an IS350 AWD, but am I buying it tomorrow? Let’s find out.

Like any fading Hollywood star, the IS line went in for plastic surgery in 2009. The nip/tuck consisted of some subtle tweaks to the front bumper and headlamp assembles with lightly-reworked lines and some LED daytime running lamps styled after the LF-A. The rhinoplasty is so subtle that unless you park a 2006 IS next to a new one, you’d scarcely know the difference. On the up-side the look has aged well; on the downside, it looks just like your neighbour’s 2006 IS250. Calling a spade a spade, flashy styling is not what this segment is about.

Our tester came with the $1,320 “Luxury Plus” package which includes heated and cooled thrones slathered in upgraded semi-aniline leather, real wood trim, HID lamps, electric tilt/telescope wheel, memory seats, rain sense wipers and a power rear sunshade. The big ticket item on the options list is the $3,905 audio/nav system package which included the ubiquitous Lexus nav system and a 14 speaker Mark Levinson sound system with backup camera. While I do find some fault in the “that’s-so-80s” faux-marble styling that the system’s menus employ, functionality is nevertheless high and responsiveness is good. Audio quality from the Mark Levinson system is as high as you would expect from a system this expensive.

Inside the cabin the IS’s age begins to show. Lexus opted for the very lightest of interior refreshes in 2009, largely focusing on the centre stack’s button shapes. This means that the soft touch plastic used on the dash and doors looks nice but has a somewhat rubbery feel. While the surface texture is pleasing to the eye and touch, its rubbery surface attracts dust like a lint roller. Oddly enough once dust and lint is attracted to the dash, it doesn’t wipe down as easily as I would like. If you live down a gravel road as I do, keep your sham-wow handy. Still, the interior is decidedly middle of the road being neither too cheap nor overly impressive. And that’s no small feat after this much time on the shelves.

Standard on all IS models is keyless entry and ignition meaning that the IS doesn’t suffer from oddly located slots or “blanks” located where a key would go in more pedestrian vehicles. Pressing the aforementioned start/stop button summons all 3.5 litres of the IS350’s V6 to life with a quiet purr. Despite being the sporty Lexus, the engine note of the V6 is decidedly demure even when the go pedal is stomped to the floor. If you need more aural satisfaction, Lexus would be happy to sell you the V8 powered IS-F. Fortunately, the 306 naturally aspirated ponies and 277 lb-ft of twist manage to almost match the linear turbocharged-thrust the BMW 335xi enjoys… almost. With direct injection and variable valve timing on hand to appease the EPA, the IS350 AWD delivered a respectable 26MPG highway as tested, with our 750 mile average hovering at 22.5MPG. It should be noted for readers comparing mileage figures with my previous reviews that I have recently moved and my average commute now involves commuting over hilly country roads.

A word about that AWD system: since the IS350’s AWD system uses a mechanical centre differential with an electronic clutch pack to control lockup, it doesn’t seem to behave quite as well as the always-on Audi Quattro system or the Haldex slip-and-grip systems at low speeds. While torque is available to the four wheels virtually instantly (unlike some Haldex implementations), I noticed mild binding at full lock during parking maneuvers. While not distracting, they are slightly less refined than the feel in the latest Audi, Acura and Volvo models.

As with other IS models, the IS350 AWD uses Lexus’ 6-speed automatic, part of me would love to see the 8-speed unit in the ISF, but something tells me we won’t see it until the redesign. My only beef with the silky-smooth slush box is with Lexus’ decision to “me-too” some sporty paddle shifters on the tiller and saddle the car with 1990s software. Rather than having a true manual mode where “4” means you want the transmission to be in 4th gear, the indicator merely indicates the highest gear the transmission may use whenever it feels like it. Think of cars that have D, D5, D4, D3, etc. in their shifter’s repertoire. Despite any shortcomings the transmission may have, V6 is an excellent companion. Turbo? Lexus didn’t see the point, and with a 5.18 second 0-60 time (as tested) I’m inclined to believe them.

So why did that Volvo win a place in my garage over the IS350? It all came down to AWD and a useable back seat. Lexus has rectified the AWD problem, but rear accommodations are still an IS family shortcoming. On the practicality score list the IS makes up for the lack of rear legroom by delivering one of the quietest rides in the class. Sadly there is one more hump on this camel, and it’s in the driver’s footwell rather than on its back. Because the floor-stamping in the RWD IS models doesn’t allow for the AWD componentry, the AWD IS models have a unique floor pan with a sizeable hump that extends from the centre tunnel well into the driver’s footwell mid-line between the seat and the accelerator pedal. If your feet are over a US size 11, then you might find the hump’s position a more than awkward. The kicker of course is that RHD versions of the IS put this on the passenger side, to which my response would have been: “who cares? That’s not where I sit as the driver.” Since my shoe of choice is a US size 10.5 loafer, I found the hump more of an oddity than a deal breaker but I am constantly reminded that the A4, Acura TL and Volvo S60 are completely hump-free.

Out on the road the IS350 AWD behaves more like an LS460 with firm springs than an Audi S4 or BMW 335. The steering is precise; the heft is as close to perfect as any, but the feel is isolated. This problem is partially due to the AWD system, as most AWD sedans feel less connected than their RWD relatives, but even the RWD IS350 suffers from a relatively numb tiller. Still, the 30/70 power split (variable to 50/50) more than makes up for any loss in feel when rocketing down wet and mossy back country roads in the Santa Cruz mountains. The short wheelbase and stiff suspension combine to make short work of windy roads, but broken pavement and cupped freeway concrete make the ride fairly unpleasant at legal speeds. Compared with the AWD IS350, the RWD IS feels more nimble with slightly better balance due no doubt to the wider rubber out back. For 99% of buyers the IS350 AWD is exactly like a regular IS350 except more stable on slippery roads. Our Facebook fan’s most frequent request is for a “burnout quotient” so here it is: zero (but then that’s sort of the point).

The IS350 AWD is up against some stiff competition as it goes into its final years but pricing and image may be the IS350s best assets. Our tester rang in at $46,579 as tested, well below the competition from Germany. The BMW 335xi offers undoubtedly superior interior finish and more electronic gadgets than a Japanese toy store, but with a comparably equipped MSRP of $50,925 it’s easy to overlook the IS350’s rubbery dashboard. If Audi is more your style, the A4 is far less swift and the new S4 at $56,175 is in a totally different price class. Perhaps the most direct and stiff competition for the IS350 AWD comes in the form of the Infiniti G37x, which feels more nimble, and the new Volvo S60 T6 AWD. Both the Infiniti and Volvo ring in within $1,000 of the IS350 AWD depending on options selected, with the IS350 straddling the fence between the sportier G37 and softer S60. Lexus’ trump cards in this competitive set are image and reliability. Lexus has a better brand value proposition than Volvo or Infiniti, and reliability is unquestionably higher than the BMW or Audi competition. So, 5 years later would I take the second best girl to the automotive prom? No, I’d probably take a BMW 335xi, but after the initial fun wore off I’d probably be left to dream about the IS350 AWD all over again.

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

Another perspective on this car can be found here.

Performance statistics as tested:

0-30: 1.93 seconds

0-60: 5.18 seconds

Average economy: 22.5MPG overall

Facebook followers: Steve S: The biggest difference with the RWD model is the slimmer rubber out back, combined with the AWD it causes a little less grip in the dry but a more balanced feel. Tony J: The A4 offers a better feeling interior. Phillip W: Power slide? In a Lexus? Yes, but only just. Scott C: The suspension is fully independent front and rear. Up front we have double-wishbones with coil springs, monotube gas-pressurized shock absorbers and the usual hollow stabilizer bar, out back we get a multi-link setup with coil springs, inverted monotube gas shock absorbers and another stabilizer bar. It is the same basic setup as the RWD model with only slight geometry changes where required.

Time was Toyota thoroughly redesigned its cars every four years. Then every five. And lately not even that often. Consequently, for its sixth model year the second-generation Lexus IS received just a few tweaks. The most notable: at long last all-wheel-drive is available with an engine torquey enough to take advantage of its additional traction, namely the IS 350’s 306-horsepower, 277-foot-pounds direct-injected 3.5-liter V6.

Six years ago the chunky-yet-athletic shape of the Lexus IS was fresh and at least mildly interesting. The bodysides could be slimmer, but the cab-rearward proportions clearly communicate that this is a bona-fide rear-wheel-drive sedan. Look closely and you might notice the changes to the front fascia. The new-for-2011 17-inch-alloy wheels could appear sportier, but by the same measure they could also be stodgier. Larger, more-aggressively-styled wheels that better fill the fenders are available from the factory only with rear-wheel-drive, though one set of eighteens is available as a $1,756 dealer-installed accessory.

Gray-stained wood—essentially wood for those who don’t really care for the look of wood—is the most notable change to the interior. It’s classier than the “aluminized composite” trim employed in the ultra-high-performance IS-F. Otherwise the interior is much the same, so it’s cleanly styled and quietly attractive. In general the ergonomics are very good, with large buttons flanking the touchscreen display. But as in other Toyota and Lexus cars the low placement of the digital clock makes it hard to find at a glance. Also, the buttons for the stability control and the transmission mode are obscured by the steering wheel. These would be much handier on the center console. Materials, and especially the optional soft and aromatic semi-aniline leather trim, generally befit the car’s $47,130 price.

Even after six years the driving position in the Lexus IS remains unexpectedly gangsta, with a tall instrument panel, small windows, and a relatively distant, relatively upright windshield. Certainly not a Camaro, but in that direction. This contributes to the sporty character of the car, but detracts from livability for shorter adults in the front seat and kids in the back seat. An additional compromise with all-wheel-drive: the floorboard bulges up beneath the driver’s right calf.

The front sport buckets remain very good, coddling on the highway and gripping tightly in curves. But this time around they required some fiddling before I felt comfortable—the two-way-adjustable lumbar bulge hit too high. Your back—and thus your experience—will vary. The back seat remains the tightest in the segment—even adults of middling size barely fit. This is probably the main reason people reject the IS.

Ironically, given the manufacturer’s reputation, some of my most enlightening driving experiences have occurred in Toyota or Lexus cars. I first experienced a high-winding DOHC engine in the 1984 Toyota Corolla GT-S. Afterwards, anything with just two valves per cylinder seemed antiquated. My first drive in the IS 350 back in 2005 wasn’t as revelatory, but it nevertheless indicated that direct-injection was the way forward. Hit the gas and the engine’s response was immediate and strong.

Six years is essentially an eon in the car industry, and competitors have more-or-less caught up with their own 300-plus-horsepower sixes. Yet the 3.5 in the IS, though apparently unchanged, remains best-in-class. The Infiniti G37’s 328-horsepower 3.7-liter V6 might be more powerful, but the Lexus mill is far more refined. Every noise the latter engine makes is one you want to hear—Lexus clearly spent a lot of time finessing it. To the detriment of fuel economy, my ears thoroughly enjoyed frequent trips to the redline. Need a hint of when to shift, if you opt to do this yourself? A ring of LEDs in the tach glows orange as the needle sweeps past 5,000 then turns red when it reaches 6,500. At 6,700 you’ll hit the rev limiter, and in manual mode the transmission won’t shift on its own. The 5.0-liter V8 in the IS-F kicks out another 110 horsepower, but in my week with the IS 350 I never felt the need for them. The 3.5 quickly accelerates the sedan to imprudent speeds and arguably sounds better, with less heard from the exhaust and more from the bits whirring away under the hood. Lexus claims a much quicker 0-60 time for the 350 than for the 250, 5.7 vs. 8.3 seconds.

Fuel economy isn’t much better than with the IS-F, probably because most of what the V6’s lesser cylinder count giveth the AWD’s shorter final drive, mechanical drag, and 176 additional pounds (for a total of 3,703) taketh away. My driving generally confirmed the EPA ratings of 18 city and 25 highway (vs. 20/27 with RWD). Especially aggressive driving sent the average (as reported by the trip computer) into the mid-teens. Go very easy on the gas and you’ll observe low-twenties in the suburbs.

A manual transmission continues to only be offered with the 2.5. Though not quite as smooth or as quick to respond to the paddles as the eight-speed in the IS-F, the IS 350’s six-speed remains among the best conventional automatics. It operates smoothly and usually selects the appropriate cog for the situation all on its own. I mostly employed the paddles to force the engine to sing louder or to provoke untoward reactions from the chassis.

Even on snow-covered roads I generally failed at the latter. In rear-wheel-drive form, the IS handles more safely and predictably than the Infiniti G37. Add all-wheel-drive and even when provoked the chassis rarely does something it oughtn’t. Yet handling is more lively than with many all-wheel-drive cars. Power through a curve—possible without wheelspin thanks to the AWD—and the chassis’s initial understeer transitions to mild oversteer. The relatively soft rear suspension Toyota / Lexus tends to specify in rear-wheel-drive models contributes—the rear rolls more than the front, progressively overloading the outside rear tire. Also a factor: said rear tire is, unlike in the rear-wheel-drive IS 350, the same size as the one in front (225/45VR17).

Like the IS-F, if not to the same degree, the IS 350 feelts like a big car that has been magically compacted. The interior dimensions and driving position clearly suggest you’re in a small car, but even without a big V8 in the nose the feel through the moderately heavy steering and cushy seat are of a serious, solid mass. This is good in some ways, not so good in others. A BMW 3-Series feels more agile and precise, and its steering, though lighter, provides more feedback. Lexus has refined the IS 350’s stability control system over the years. There’s still no way to entirely disable this system, but it doesn’t intrude as early or as obtrusively as it did six years ago.

An optional sport suspension is only offered with rear-wheel-drive. Though never harsh, and more absorptive and polished than the suspensions in key competitors, the IS 350’s standard suspension sometimes gets jiggly on roads that appear smooth to the eye. Drive the car very aggressively and there’s some roll and float. Overall, though, the suspension represents a very good compromise for those who’ll want to drive the car aggressively some of the time but who’ll want to relax during their daily commute. Noise levels are, in the Lexus tradition, low.

The $47,130 MSRP might seem high for a compact sedan. A comparably-equipped Infiniti G37x, with more power and more rear seat room, lists for $4,655 less. Even after adjusting for the IS 350’s slightly higher feature content (such as cooled front seats) and the significantly wider margins enjoyed by Lexus dealers the Infiniti retains a roughly $2,200 advantage, based on TrueDelta’s car price comparison tool. On the other hand, a comparably-equipped BMW 335i xDrive (did I get the insanely complicated nomenclature correct?) lists for $3,845 more, and adjusting for features and dealer margin widens this gap to about $6,000. So the Lexus is pricey compared to Japanese competitors, but a value compared to the Germans.

Now that the IS 350 is offered with all-wheel-drive, those unwilling to deal with the limitations of rear-wheel-drive in the snow no longer have to choose between settling for the torque-deficient 2.5 or buying something else. But should they choose the IS 350? The all-wheel-drive system benefits stability and traction without robbing the car of its essentially rear-wheel-drive character. Largely thanks to the excellent powertrain, but with some credit due the driving position and chassis, the IS 350 is a very enjoyable car to drive. On the other hand, when you’re not looking for excitement, it’s smooth (on most roads), refined, and comfortable—unless you’re jammed into the tight rear seat. Also, given six years to work out bugs and the model’s record to date, the small Lexus should be very reliable. In the end, the IS 350 is very much a compromise, neither as sporty as some alternatives nor as smooth-riding as others, but it’s a unique compromise that remains competitive despite the aging design.

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

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

Luxury means many things to many people, but nobody doubts luxury cars should be crammed full of the latest technology… and what says “technology” in today’s car market quite like “Hybrid”? In a strange inversion of history, Lexus created the world’s first hybrid luxury flagship from a vehicle that was clearly inspired by the Mercedes S-Class, and now Mercedes is fighting back with its first hybrid sedan, the S400 Hybrid. So, is Lexus’s hybrid head-start enough to fend off a challenge from the vehicle that inspired its birth over a twenty years ago? The only way to find out is in TTAC’s most expensive comparison test ever.

Despite catering to a similar crowd, the Lexus and Mercedes hybrids could not have more different missions in mind if they tried. Lexus’ fantastically complicated AWD hybrid system was designed with V12 performance in mind. Mercedes on the other hand decided to take the simplest route to hybridization possible by inserting a smallish electric motor between the engine and transmission. Either way you slice it, if you are shopping for a car to be driven in and still somehow care about the baby seals, these two cars will provide the best fuel economy in the luxo-barge market (which isn’t saying much). Let’s dig in.

The LS 600h L is best known for being the most expensive hybrid vehicle on the market, a fact that earns it endless county-club bragging rights, but demands that we talk price upfront. Starting with a base price of $111,350, our press car was fitted with the $10,835 optional “Package C” which included everything except the radar cruise control and delivered a total MSRP of $123,060 after the destination charge. For the fully-loaded buyer, the $12,335 “Package D” will ring the total up to $124,560.

While nearly 125-large may sound like a deal breaker for even the wealthy, the LS 600h L’s German competition starts at $91,000 in the form of the Mercedes S400 Hybrid. Comparably equipped, the S400 Hybrid ends up at an eye-bulging $116,275. And if option-ticking is your thing; $123,852 buys you a fully-loaded German hybrid. Of course if you have a driver, the cost of the vehicle is likely to be unimportant, but I am told by the wealthier set that a “discreet” ride is usually preferred to a Maybach or Rolls. Noblesse oblige. MSRP winner: LS 600h L.

When the LS 600h L arrived and I peered out my window, I was impressed by the fact that the styling didn’t impress. It’s not that the LS is boring, it’s just that the Camry shares many of the same lines. Taken by itself, the LS is a handsome vehicle, and parked next to a Camry you can see the LS is much, much larger, bolder, and has greater attention to detail. When separated, however, the resemblance comes to mind more easily. Oddly enough, Lexus decided not to use their mid-cycle refresh for the 2010 model year to differentiate the LS from the Toyota models, instead the LS received a three-bar grille that looks more Avalon than Lexus to me. In contrast, the S400 Hybrid may share some styling cues with the C300, but the overall Mercedes design is far less subtle than the Lexus. While I still long for the style of the W140 S-Class, there’s no mistaking the S-Class is the biggest Benz available on our shores. Exterior style winner: S400 Hybrid.

Lexus’ skills at cabin crafting are obvious inside the LS. The range topping Lexus gets full leather upholstery, complete with a single-needle stitched dash and door panels. While the shapes may be the same as the LS 600h L’s lesser cousin (the LS 460), the LS 600h L will make you feel a touch more special. Owners of the 460 appreciate the fact that a base LS delivers a world-class interior for 60-large, LS 600h L buyers may find the nearly identical interior a turn off. If you are spending the cost of a Midwest family home on a car, you probably expect something unique.

The S400 Hybrid has the odd benefit of being the cheapest S-Class in the USA. (Mercedes decided not to sell the short-wheelbase S350 here which would compete directly with the LS 460 in the 60K+ segment.) This brand positioning means that there is no $60,000 car on American roads with identical styling to your high-rolling-hybrid. Despite the fact that the LS 600h L delivers an interior put together with more sumptuous feel and precision than the Germans could hope for, the uniqueness factor pushes the S400 to the top on our interior scale. Interior style winner: S400 Hybrid.

As a base model, the S400 doesn’t have to promise range-topping performance, which is good since this hybrid Benz receives an Atkinson-cycle version of Mercedes’ ubiquitous 3.5L V6. Typically Atkinson-cycle engines are down on power compared to their Otto-cycle versions, but interestingly Mercedes has fitted a new cylinder head, different pistons and a modified camshaft which actually increase the power over the version used in the other Merc models. In addition a 20HP, 118lb-ft electric motor is added, bringing the system total power to 295HP and 284lb-ft, topping the 268HP and 258lb-ft rating of the C350. While the S400 Hybrid delivers more power than the V8 S430 (circa 2006) and accelerates to 60 a tenth of a second faster (7.2 to 60 as tested), in this decade a luxury car with a 0-60 in the 7 second range is fairly slow.

Lexus has long embraced technology, but only recently come to admire performance. To this end the LS 600h L is equipped with a slightly de-tuned 5.0L V8 engine from IS-F (instead of the 4.6L from the LS460.) In LS duty, the large V8 makes 389HP at a lofty 6400RPM and 383lb-ft of twist at 4,000RPM. Since these numbers are not terribly exciting in their own right, Lexus added a pair of electric motors good for 221HP and 221lb-ft. Due to the way the hybrid synergy drive system works (tech nerds can find a wealth of information here), you don’t exactly add up 389HP and 221HP from the motors and get 610HP; rather, the system horsepower ends up at a conservative 438HP.

Lexus is fairly cagey on the combined torque output of the LS’s hybrid system, but I estimate it to be at least 400lb-ft and covering a very broad RPM range, thanks to the electric motors. When the engine is shut off at a stoplight (saving baby seals), a quick romp on the go pedal summons 60MPH in 5.4 seconds (TTAC tested), which matches the 5.4 second time Lexus quotes for the LS 460 L. What this number doesn’t indicate is the shockingly linear fashion with which the LS delivers this thrust: no shifts, no gaps, no acceleration swells, just constant press-you-back-in-your-seat thrust until you decide to lift. Lexus says the top speed of the LS hybrid is 160MPH. I believe it. Performance winner: LS 600h L.

When the going gets twisty, it’s frankly not important that a large luxury sedan handle well. What is important is that it gets the job done with no fuss, minimal squeals and no unnerving rear end motions. Since both sedans are equipped with load-leveling air suspension setups, I expected a fairly similar ride, and in practice both the S400 and LS 600h L lived up to my expectations. Both deliver extremely compliant rides on a variety of pavement, gravel and dirt roads. Both vehicles offer a “Sport” mode but only the Lexus seemed to actually deliver the hoped-for change to suspension behavior with Sport Mode activated. If you ever give Jeeves the day off, a this cetaceous mannerism-taming mode is a clear “must have.” While I would never call the LS 600h L a “corner carver,” grip is fairly impressive, and the AWD system provides an extremely well balanced feel, while the massive Brembo brakes stop the 5,360lb sedan without drama every time. In contrast, the S400’s personality doesn’t invite any hurried shenanigans, which is good because it just can’t muster the hustle of the Japanese competition. Handling winner: LS 600h L.

No luxury vehicle would be able to show its face at the country club without the latest in whiz-bang gadgets. Trouble is, both the S-Class and LS lines are getting old and luxury shoppers may be surprised to find that a new Ford may provide snazzier gimmicks than either luxury sedan. Both the LS 600h L and the S400 have USB music device integration, navigation, big LCD screens, Bluetooth hands-free, self-closing doors, four-zone climate control and more buttons and knobs than NASA mission control, but the graphics on both nav systems fail to achieve the “wow” factor that the latest iDrive delivers.

The Mercedes brings the latest in dynamic air-seats to the fight, which will massage Jeeves’ back and inflate bolsters to keep him planted while evading the paparazzi. The Lexus, however, delivers one of the better backseat experiences in the business. Not only does the LS 600h L’s right rear seat recline like the S-Class, but it has an ottoman, a walnut tray table and a superb vibrating shiatsu massage system to boot. Unlike other systems that use air bladders to attempt to work out your knots, the Lexus system appears to uses rollers inside the seat, and can deliver a surprisingly deep massage.

When hiring a Jeeves, it’s important to remember to test parking skills in the interview. While Mercedes and Lexus both have parking aids to help the parallel-challenged, both managed only to bring new heights of frustration to the parking process for everyone involved. The Mercedes system won’t actually park for you, but it will attempt to guide you, provided the space is large enough for a greyhound bus and you follow the guide-lines on the screen with Germanic precision. Fail to follow ze commands visout qvestion and the system will give up on you. The Lexus on the other hand will parallel park or back your car into a perpendicular parking spot all-by-itself… If you give yourself a few hours to figure out which buttons to push and how to move the square into the right spot. Sadly Ford’s ultrasonic park assist in the Lincoln MKt, Ford Explorer and Focus are so easy to use and so fast, both the Lexus and Mercedes systems seem useless. Just hire a Jeeves that can park. Here the Lexus takes the lead because it can actually park itself (given enough patience). Gadget winner: LS 600h L.

The Germans have had a reputation for over-engineering things for decades; similarly the Japanese have had a reputation for engineering everything to perfection. Luxury buyers expect not only the finest in craftsmanship, but also the finest in engineering. In this category neither disappoints. While it seems superficially that Lexus has lost the technological edge over the past decade, the hybrid system in the LS 600h L will remind you who has a crazy R&D budget.

The Lexus CVT and AWD system are a true marvel, unlike a “regular” CVT, the Hybrid Synergy Drive transmission in the LS 600h L uses planetary gear sets and motors to change ratios. Although the idea is the same as the transmission in the Prius, the LS 600’s unit is far more complex, containing two power-split units and a two speed motor reduction gearbox on one of the electric motors designed to improve efficiency and reduce noise at speed. Even the gear-driven Torsen unit was specially designed for the LS’s transmission, to meet Lexus’ rigid standards for noise and physical dimensions.

By comparison, Mercedes’ hybrid system seems almost rushed. While the S400 may be the first lithium-ion hybrid on the market, the reason for the more dense battery design is that, due to a lack of space, Mercedes needed the battery to fit where the 12V battery normally goes. As you might guess this means there is no 12V battery in the S400, instead the lithium-ion battery and motor pack together replace the motor, alternator and starter. While bragging rights for being the first to carry a lithium-ion battery are nice, trying to explain how the Lexus’ transmission works to passengers delivers Lexus the lead here: Engineering winner: LS 600h L.

When selecting the perfect car to shuttle you to the board room, luxury features are by far the most important consideration. Out on the road in the LS, the first thing you will notice (while being massaged), is how quiet the cabin is. “Quiet” doesn’t do it justice, I’m talking eerily quiet. At the first push of the power button you are inclined to think “well it’s a hybrid so it’s quiet because the engine isn’t running.” In reality the engine was running, this car is just that quiet.

In contrast, the S400 delivers more wind noise at speed and a distinctly un-luxurious V6 noise from under the hood when pushed. While I would never choose a CVT over a traditional automatic for my own driving, the LS’ hybrid CVT is actually the perfect companion for executive transport (the last thing you would want is a harsh shift to spill your champers.) Speaking of that CVT, at 80MPH the engine in the LS 600h L is barely spinning faster than idle keeping engine noise at an absolute minimum. If you are late for your meeting, three digit speeds are attainable in both sedans, but again the LS retains its luxurious pose and low noise levels even at these speeds. If the LS is in your stable, don’t spare the whip. After all, it’s Jeeves’s license, not yours.  Luxury winner: LS 600h L.

Last, and quite appropriately, least, we arrive at fuel economy. Anyone who derides the S400 or LS 600h L for their low economy numbers obviously missed the point. If you really cared about economy you’d buy a Prius, and if you really cared about the environment you’d have Jeeves pedal you to work in a rickshaw. Instead the luxury hybrids are about technology, status and political correctness. Even so, in mixed driving we averaged 22.3MPG in the S400 over 800 miles. The best mileage recorded was a 50 mile highway journey averaging 65MPH and 29MPG. We can, of course, thank the V6 for these numbers, as the Euro-only S350L gets similar numbers on the highway.

Does that make the S400 the winner? On paper, yes, but in practice, the LS 600h L surprised us with EPA crushing real world economy numbers. According to the government, the LS 600h L should deliver 20 MPG city and 22 Highway. On a 350 mile trip down to Los Angeles for the LA Auto Show, we averaged 23 MPG at an average speed of 77 MPH which included going over the Grapevine. I was however still prepared to write off the hybrid tech as useless until we got stuck in LA traffic, where the hybrid drive really shines. A 28-mile trip from downtown LA to Covina which took a grueling two hours resulted in a lofty 32 MPG average for the LS. If you live in New York or LA, the LS 600h L actually might be a penny-pincher in traffic. Of course, you can buy about 7,500 gallons of gasoline for difference in price of the LS 460 L and LS 600h L. Economy winner: Tie.

At the end our two week back-to-back test, it became obvious that the LS 600h L is the best pure hybrid luxury vehicle in the $100,000 price point. The isolation, the CVT and the AWD, all combine to make a vehicle that is perfect for the person to whom Luxury means floating on a cloud. The LS 600h L will never have the athleticism of the BMW 7-Series, and it may not have the brand cachet of the S-Class, but it does deliver the pinnacle in isolated transport.

Lexus and Mercedes provided the vehicles, insurance, and one tank of gas per vehicle for this review

The problem is one of coherence, or rather the lack of it. The LX 570 is heavily based on the legendary Toyota Land Cruiser, and so has the proportions of a hardcore SUV. As such it has a short (for a large SUV) 112.2-inch wheelbase and is nearly as tall (75.6 inches) as it is wide (77.6 inches). The chunky body rides well off the ground. But the 20-inch wheels and Lexus-level of glitzy trim are distinctly not hardcore SUV. Beyond this incoherence, the latest LX 570 simply isn’t an eye-pleasing vehicle. The attempt to “L-Finesse” a Land Cruiser loads too much visual mass into the overhangs. The simpler, purer lines of previous generations were more attractive. Among competitors, the new, much sleeker Infiniti QX56 will easily win a beauty contest, while the Range Rover will never go out of style.

The interior is similarly that of a utilitarian SUV Lexus-ized (if you spend $3,740 for the Luxury Package) with generous amounts of premium “semi-aniline” leather and “African Bubinga” wood.  So outfitted, the cabin is luxurious, but not stylish. Here as well the Infiniti and Range Rover score easy wins. The LX 570’s ergonomics are pretty good considered the number of controls, with large buttons, knobs and switches for frequently used features. This said, those on the close-at-hand center stack would be easier to operate if said stack weren’t so vertical. As it is, operating some controls is a pain in the wrist.

You sit very high behind an upright windshield, so forward visibility is excellent in the conventional SUV fashion. Rearward visibility is augmented by a camera, with side and front-view cameras optional (but not on the $87,274 vehicle tested). Entry is aided by fixed running boards—none of the motorized silliness you’ll find in a Cadillac or Lincoln, but ground clearance suffers. The large, well-padded heated-and-cooled front seats are very comfortable, but the new QX56’s better-shaped, more adjustable buckets are even better. Some nice touches: the temperature controls for the seats maintain their settings when the vehicle is restarted and on the Luxury Package steering wheel even the spokes are heated. (Though the manual warns that during extreme off-road driving your fingers should remain outside the rim.)

With an overall length of 196.5 inches, the Lexus LX 570 isn’t exactly compact. But the heavy-duty live-rear-axled chassis borrowed from the Land Cruiser takes its toll on packaging efficiency. Second-row legroom is just adequate for adults, and the cushion is a tad too low, while the “knees high” third row seat is mounted only a few inches above the floor. Given the very limited amount of combined legroom to pay with, the second row’s power fore-aft adjustment seems a bit silly. The Land Rover LR4 is packaged much more efficiently. On the other hand, the 208.3-inch-long, IRS-equipped Infiniti has a roomier, more comfortable second row but no more space than the Lexus in the “way back.”

Behind the LX 570’s third row there’s room for only a single row of grocery bags. Need more? The third row seats power up against the sidewalls. Tumble the second row forward and a bicycle can be transported nearly upright with the wheels still attached. Loading is hampered by the height of the cargo floor, though. The tailgate is split horizontally, with the upper portion power.

As in other large Toyota trucks and SUVs, power is provided by a 5.7-liter DOHC V8, in this case good for 383 horsepower and 403 foot-pounds of torque. Even with three tons to motivate, this engine is more than up to the task, and never sounds strained. The six-speed automatic isn’t quite as smooth as Lexus’s newer eight-speed, but it’s still slicker than most. Toyota knows how to refine a powertrain. Fuel economy? Of course not. My driving confirmed the EPA ratings of 12/18.

The LX 570’s $78,630 base price is so lofty that you’re clearly not paying just for leather, wood, and enough power accessories to fill a 760-page owners’s manual.  Rather, some serious—and expensive—hardware lies beneath all the glitz and gismos. Beyond the heavy-duty frame and suspension, the LX 570 includes an array of on- and off-road handling aids. The multi-functional electronic shocks alone likely account for a few grand, and I’d hate to have to replace one out of warranty. They’re cross-linked to steady the ride, have three firmness settings, and can vary the ride height by a couple of inches in either direction. (Though the lowest setting is only used to ease entry and exit with the vehicle at a dead stop.) A center Torsen differential splits torque 40/60 and can be manually locked. Oddly, given the extreme spec, the front and rear differentials are open, and advanced traction control is relied upon to shunt torque to the wheel with most traction. Finally, three-speed “crawl control” facilitates slow, steady movement across especially challenging terrain. In the slowest speed the brakes are rhythmically applied a couple times a second, rocking the vehicle in the process. Finally, there’s a 2.61:1 low range.

So, how does it all work? In deep snow (and likely on many types of off-road terrain as well) the huge, 285/50R20 Michelin Latitude tires are the weakest link. With a quiet ride even on grooved concrete, these “mud and snow rated” but non-knobby treads were clearly specified to suit the typical Lexus buyer. While it’s hard to fathom why these tires and the three-speed crawl control are on the same vehicle, nothing’s easier to mod than wheels and tires. Not that the LX 570 as-is doesn’t have good traction through deep snow. The combination of all-wheel-drive, 8.9 inches of ground clearance, and a three-ton curb weight virtually guarantee this. But with more aggressive treads it would be virtually unstoppable. (Unless, of course, you high center the vehicle on something like a ridge of packed snow.)

On pavement the electronics work surprisingly unwell. Despite the cross-linked adaptive shocks the LX 570 bounces and bobbles in a very un-Lexus-like manner over all but the smoothest pavement. Even my kids found this misbehavior irritating, and none of the settings do much to reduce it. My suspicion: the shocks are being called upon to do too much. The conventional coil springs must be very soft. With the shocks set to “comfort” or even “normal” there’s a massive amount of lean in turns. (My kids got a hoot out of curvy roads taken in “comfort.”) “Sport” reins in the amount of lean to livable levels, without substantially degrading ride quality. The Toyota Land Cruiser includes active stabilizer bars instead of these fancy shocks; perhaps these restrain roll better? To the LX 570’s credit, it’s surprisingly willing to rotate, perhaps because of the relatively short wheelbase and the active steering system that varies its ratio based on vehicle speed. Unfortunately, as in the Toyota 4Runner I reviewed a few months ago the rear end sways more than the front, provoking premature oversteer that the stability control must quickly step in to counteract. Ultimately handling is safe but slow, and to the extent it’s entertaining it’s for all the wrong reasons.

So, we have an expensive, glitzy-but-homely, luxuriously appointed large SUV with hardware (if not tires) suitable for aggressive off-roading. Try as I might, I could not make this odd combination of attributes make sense in suburban America. If you want a luxury vehicle capable of carrying 6+ people in any type of weather, there are many alternatives that do just about everything save rock-crawling better while costing much less. But perhaps there are places in the world where luxury is a primary want while off-road capability is a must? I wouldn’t be surprised if they sold quite a few of these in the Middle East.

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

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

A Lexus without wood is like Dolly Parton without tits. The music of the experience takes your breath away and yet… you just feel something is missing. Is it the smile? The wig? When I looked at the press release clippings of the Lexus CT200h, I had trouble with the entire car. You want a sporty hybrid with the acceleration of a 15-year-old Camry to compete with the Audi A3 and BMW 1-Series? I know Toyota wants to build more hybrids. But as the owner of two hybrids, I thought this car would represent a Cimmaron moment for hybrids and the Lexus brand. Then I saw it in person. Perception and reality battled it out, and this is what I found.

When an enthusiast looks at the exterior of the CT200h, one word comes to mind: Scion. This car has the design of an expensive, sporty Scion with absolutely none of the ostentation and presence of a traditional Lexus. There is a bit of chrome on the grille, the usual circular L logo, and an awful lot of LED’s on the tail. It does have a presence about it… but it’s more of a youthful vehicle than anything Toyota has ever released under the Lexus brand.

Once you view the CT in person from all angles, it has a flow to its design. Photographing the car from one angle after another makes it look like a discombobulated mass: IS front end, RX rear end, generic bulbous Scion in the middle. In the flesh everything comes into focus and the car looks ten times better.

When you open the door another word quickly leaps to mind: ‘tight’. This is the tightest vehicle I have experienced since the RX-8. Everything is close at hand and to your knee. In fact, I felt even more coddled and claustro in this car than in my first generation Honda Insight. I bumped my head on the roof-mounted grab handle just looking to make a turn and my six-foot-plus AARP-eligible co-rider decided to stick to the passenger seat for much of the ride due in great part to the lack of space.

As an enthusiast, I love the CT’s sports car-like driving position. But folks who battle traffic instead of winding country roads will come to despise it. Outstretched arms and tight quarters in a car that feels small grows old quickly. But at least we have acceleration and handling right?

Well, acceleration is marginal at best, with sixty arriving in the mid-9’s, and and the chassis is taut to the extreme. You feel every one of the road’s imperfections. Changing the settings to ‘comfort’ didn’t make much of a difference. Toyota believes that folks in their 30s and 40s want a hard-riding sports hybrid. If that’s the case so be it. I love my 2001 Insight but it will take a special type of customer to accept this car’s ride and class-trailing speed.

Those in temperate climates with smooth roads will welcome the CT’s fierce grip. On the road, the hatchback feels planted in a way few touring cars can emulate. Thanks to a low center of gravity and the sturctural rigidity of a lead pipe, this Lexus evokes a sports car experience that few four-door competitors can match at the $30k price level. Hybrid or not, the CT makes you experience the drive.

On the road I averaged a bit over 42 miles per gallon. Phenomenal given that I hammered the throttle every time an open road beckoned. Like its drama-free Prius sibling,the CT could have gone north of 60 with a lot of hypermiling, but this car does not encourage a light foot.

In ‘Normal’ and ‘Eco’ modes the hybrid powertrain performs the same as in the Prius, and so struggles to match the quick mid-range acceleration of a sports compact. I get 59 mpg with my Honda Insight on a daily basis, but if I had to drive the CT I would never leave it off of Sport. Even with the mileage penalty… it’s the first hybrid I’ve ever driven that seems happy when properly revved.

Sport mode electronically substitutes a tachometer for the all-too-dippy ‘Ecometer’ and spikes the battery juice. The CT has no trouble finding it’s mojo once it has the extra power. ‘Sport’ modes adds 150V AC power for driving the electric motor thanks to a clever power inverter that converts the DC power from the battery. In real-world driving this extra push in power combined with outstanding handling and fuel economy makes the CT a fun-filled and frugal Scion… I mean a de-wooded Lexus.

It’s enough to make the CT a competitive alternative in a miniscule segment where the Audi A3 TDI is absolutely dominant and the Volvo C30 and BMW 1-Series are trailing. America has barely a minutiae of interest in the ‘entry level premium sports compact segment’. Would you believe only 1,500 units a month for all three models combined? Yes Americans rarely like to spend $30k+ for a long description that amounts to small expensive cars with limited horsepower.

That’s the first challenge I see with this vehicle. The second is that the CT is a first-generation acronym going up against well-pedigreed Europeans. Lexus disagrees, but I would also wager that the MINI and GTI will be hellacious competitors. That’s not all. The Prius still offers 20% better fuel economy and the Fusion Hybrid has become a popular and established presence in the $30k+ market. The CT will have a tough time getting noticed in this premium crowd.

The final challenge Lexus will face: staying the course. Toyota always struggles with establishing a sporty car in the marketplace… and keeping it there. Only the IS has found a sporty niche within the entire Toyota/Scion/Lexus portfolio circa 2010. Celica, Supra, MR2, SC, are all dead to those looking for a new sporty Toyota in the USA. Such a shame

Otherwise Toyota North America currently offers the stubby Scion tC (that was neglected for several recent years) and a couple of limited production ‘F’ series vehicles. This lack of sport pedigree will mean the CT will have serious trouble attracting the up-and-coming luxury car buyers who consider BMWs and Audis the gold standards of the sports compact segment.

Toyota seems realistic about the CT’s short-term prospects: it’s only forecasting 12,000 sales a year. So, especially if gas prices continue to dance ever closer to European levels, this car will stick around. But for God’s sakes! Lexus, give this thing some more wood!

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

Any way you slice Toyota’s sales figures for the past 5 years, its obvious that despite a ballooning product portfolio Lexus is in a world of hurt. Sales are down, the other import brands have improved their quality and buyers seem to be embracing a more performance-oriented (or is that German-oriented?) luxury style. But rather than re-orienting the Lexus brand to directly take on surging BMW, Audi and Mercedes sales, Toyota has doubled down on its major competitive advantage: hybrids.The recently-launched HS250h was Lexus’s first stab at an entry-premium hybrid, but after just a few months on sale it’s already going nowhere fast. With CAFÉ changes looming, Lexus may eventually benefit from an all-hybrid luxury line-up, but in the meantime the very idea of a luxury hybrid needs a shot in the arm. Is the CT200h hatchback hybrid the answer?

On the surface the CT200h looks like it could be the long-lost hatchback cousin of the IS250/350, but in reality it’s related to the HS250h, itself a derivative of the European Toyota Avensis. Despite sharing relatively few parts with the Toyota Prius, some critics have slammed the HS250h for being nothing more than a “Lexus Prius,” despite the fact that it comes with a version of the more powerful Camry Hybrid drivetrain. If that’s a problem for you on principle (it really shouldn’t be), you might want to stop reading now. Under the CT200h’s hood lurks the same 1.8L Atkinson cycle engine and Hybrid Synergy Drive system as the current generation Prius.

One of the many complaints about the HS250h has been its lackluster fuel economy and weak performance. Of course the HS250h could have been forgiven if Ford hadn’t released the Lincoln MKZ hybrid around the same time. The Lincoln hybrid is considerably larger than the HS, matches the Lexus for 0-60 acceleration, and beats it by a full 6 MPG on the freeway. In order to correct the problem, Lexus put the HS/CT shared platform on a diet and the result is that the CT200h tips the scales at 3,130lbs a 550lb weight reduction over the HS. Sounds good, right? The answer is a resounding maybe. The weight loss certainly makes the CT200h feel more nimble and no doubt contributes to the higher EPA numbers of 42/41/42 (highway/city/combined), but much of this improvement comes from swapping out the 187HP Camry Hybrid powerplant in favor of the relatively anemic 134HP Prius engine. Comparisons to Honda’s weak-sauce CR-Z are inevitable and not entirely unwarranted.

Naturally the forums will be alight with chatter proclaiming the CT200h to at last be “the real Lexus Prius,” but (as usual) the comments will be missing a few key details. The CT is six inches shorter than the Prius overall and rides on a four inch shorter wheelbase, and aside from the engine and Hybrid Synergy Drive system, the CT200h shares few parts with the Prius. Unfortunately one of the things the CT200h doesn’t share is the Prius’s 51/48/50 MPG fuel economy numbers (EPA, highway/city/combined) which is curious since the Prius is not much lighter than the CT.

Behind the wheel it is obvious to anyone who has spent time in Lexus’ other models that the CT200 is expected to be the cheapest Lexus available, starting at around $30,000. It would be unfair to say the materials are cheap, but they are certainly less than I would expect from Lexus. The dashboard and rear door trim plastics are particularly disappointing, and the memory seat controls look like an aftermarket addition. Fortunately the steering wheel really shines; it’s well-weighted, perfectly-shaped and feels exactly the way it should.

And in general, if you keep your hands to the controls, you’ll be OK. A 110 mile test drive gave ample opportunity to become acquainted with the interior and the only real quibble I have is the Lexus Navigation system. The system uses the same mouse/joystick like controls that have been spreading across the Lexus lineup, but the picture quality is less than inspiring and I don’t find the controller to be particularly user friendly. The location of the Nav screen up high on the dash doesn’t make using the system any easier.

Gadget lovers will appreciate the standard Bluetooth hands-free system with Bluetooth audio streaming, full iPod and USB device control, XM Radio, keyless go, dual-zone climate control, LED tail lamps and “bamboo charcoal speakers” in the audio system. Conspicuously absent is a Mark Levinson sound system available in other Lexus models. For those who want to option up their CT, Lexus offers a power moonroof, full LED headlamps, hard drive based nav system, adaptive cruise control with collision warning, in-mirror backup camera and several wood trim options. Keeping in mind that the CT200h will be the entry-level Lexus, the option list is fairly extensive.

In the bright light of day, the CT200h turns from an entry-level gadget lover’s dream to a mixed bag. Lexus is billing the CT200h as a sporty compact luxury hatch, but they only nailed half the formula… and let’s just say the CT is undoubtedly a compact hatch. Lexus says the competition for the CT is the Volvo C30, Audi A3 and the BMW 1-Series (personally, I would have forgotten about the 1-Series and included the Mini, but what do I know?). Luxury is in the eye of the beholder, and though the CT’s interior is a nice place to be compared to the self-proclaimed competition, it falls short of the level of luxury found even in Volvo’s C30. Sure the CT has better electronic toys (and a hybrid drivetrain), but as a place to spend time, the C30 is demonstrably better.

Our pre-defined route took us out on California State Route 243, portions of which were moderately twisty and well banked. On these winding mountain sections, the CT holds the road with finesse. The chassis is well behaved if not overeager, and even the electric power steering fails to detract from the mountain carving fun. Sadly the same cannot be said of the 134HP hybrid drive. Adding insult to underperformance, the sounds coming from under the hood cannot really be described as either sporty or luxurious. It’s not as bad as some four-bangers, but it’s not up to the standard of a brand built on admirably unobtrusive drivetrains. But even this could be forgiven if the CT’s acceleration was even remotely satisfactory, but there’s the final chink in the sporty hatchback armor: the CT’s manufacturer estimated 9.8second 0-60, which is actually slower than a Prius. This makes sense when you consider the Prius is lighter, but the end result is something along the lines of a softer Jetta TDi that doesn’t handle quite as well. Yes, it’s taut and composed in the corners, but when the road straightens you get nothing.

As I flew home from Palm Springs I was quite possibly more puzzled about the CT200h than I was when my journey began. It’s not a new paradigm of efficiency. In fact it’s only marginally better than the Lincoln MKZ hybrid that rendered its bigger brother irrelevant (although it is cheaper). It’s not particularly sporty either (do I need to say more than “slower than a Prius”?). And even at $30,000 (and up, if you want all the toys) it won’t be a huge amount cheaper than the HS250, which delivers more room and a bit peppier performance along with a more premium feel. Since the CT200h was designed to strengthen Lexus sales in Europe, it makes a certain amount of sense. Europeans are far more likely to accept a moderately prices cheap and cheerful small hatch with a nearly 10 second 0-60 time that is marketed as “sporty.” The same cannot however be said of Americans, and at the end of the day the CT200h appears to be a decent landing at the wrong airport.

Lexus provided airfare, lodging and hospitality for this press launch event

As a nameplate, Lexus is now old enough to consume alcohol in all fifty states. Make no mistake, though: the brand Lexus has become is not the brand it was perhaps originally intended to be. Toyota and Nissan each launched with a (mostly) clean-sheet big V8 sedan and a warmed-over home-market showroom filler. For Nissan, the lineup was a short-wheelbase version of the all-new “President”, badged Q45, and a long-in-the-tooth Leopard coupe, yclept M30. Toyota introduced its “F1″ global flagship as the Lexus LS400. To keep the new LS from being lonely in the showrooms, a quick nose job was done on a JDM faux-hardtop midsizer, and the ES250 was born.

Perhaps the Japanese thought they could win the “D-class” battle against BMW and Mercedes-Benz as easily as they’d destroyed the British motorcycle industry or humiliated the American attempts to build subcompact cars. It didn’t quite work out that way. The Q45 badge moved to the rather dismal Nissan Cima before completely fading away. The M30 was a sales catastrophe, to put it mildly. While the current LS460 does about the same annual volume in the United States as the Mercedes-Benz S550, it does so with a base price that is almost $23,000 below that of the Benz.

It was the humblest of the original four offerings from Lexus and Infiniti that would go on to conquer, if not the world, then at least the continent of North America. Today, Lexus is one of the top-volume luxury brands in the market. Its killer Camry-derived duo of ES 350 and RX350 perennially occupy the top of their segments’ sales charts, generating over 100,000 sales per year. Lexus is one of the most famous success stories in the industry, but it began with a straight badge-engineering job of a nearly obsolete car.

For many years, Japanese home-market buyers equated “the hardtop look” with prestige and luxury. As a result, nearly every major Japanese sedan sold in the Eighties and Nineties was either a frameless-window car (as was the case with the first-generation Infiniti M45, sold in Japan as the Nissan Cedric) or was available in a more expensive, frameless-window variant (as with the Honda Accord Inspire and Toyota Corona EXIV). In Toyota’s case, the Camry was “upgraded” to become the Toyota Vista, as seen above. The advantages of using the Vista as the second Lexus were obvious. It could easily be made to comply with US regulations and it would be immediately familiar to Toyota owners looking to trade up.

I’m a little embarrassed to admit this, but my family has some history with Lexus ownership in general and ES250 ownership in particular. In the winter of 1989 my father had his Jaguar XJ6 towed out of his garage stall to the dealership for the fourth time in about as many months. I advised that he try a Lexus as a temporary change in pace. I meant that he should buy an LS400, but upon his trip to the dealer he decided that

a) both of the Lexus vehicles were ugly pieces of crap;

b) in which case, the cheaper one would suffice.

And thus the old man acquired a two-tone-blue ES250. He’d never even so much as sat in a Camry, but I had, and I was shocked to see the lack of differentiation between the two. The steering wheel was different, the radio stack was different, and there were better seats in the car. That was it. Other than that, we were looking at a $23,500 variant of a $17,000 Camry V6.

The motor was surprisingly reluctant to rev, given that it was a 2.5L V6. It was also gutless at all revs; I got the somewhat mistaken impression that it was about as quick as my 302-powered Mercury Marquis coupe. On the freeway, it had less mechanical noise than a Camry but a fair bit more wind noise. The steering was loaded with syrup and the brake pedal sank halfway to the floor before providing any effective retardation. On the positive side, the stereo was very good and the interior was clearly screwed together with fastidious attention.

After a few years, the ES became Dad’s “Florida car”. The leather seats cracked, the dash faded to a whiter shade of blue, and the electronics started to quit. In 1994, with 122,000 mostly freeway miles on the odometer, the block cracked and Dad effectively gave the car away. I used to joke that he’d managed to transfer the reliability of his Jags and Bimmers to a Toyota.

The LS400 outsold the ES250 by quite a bit in the two years they were sold together. Toyota got the hint; the Vista became the vastly improved Windom and placing an “L” badge on said Windom yielded the ES300. Customers loved the result and the ES was placed on the road to complete domination. Over the next three generations, the ES/Windom continued to distance itself from the Camry, but the template had been set: everybody from Acura to Lincoln ended up copying Lexus and selling chrome-nose family sedans as entry-level luxury cars. In the case of the Lincoln Zephyr/MKZ, there was a double helping of irony since the Lincoln Versailles had been an unsuccessful riff on the Ford Granada fifteen years before the ES250′s introduction.

Speaking of irony, it’s worth nothing that in 2006, Toyota took the final step and discontinued the Windom nameplate, replacing it with… Lexus ES. It’s been the most successful example of badge-engineering since the half-million-selling ’76 Cutlass, and perhaps the only one where the rebadge turned around and swallowed the original nameplate. The Little Camry That Couldn’t eventually became the Big Lexus That Could.

There are certain phrases that, when heard in the proper context, signal that one has truly arrived in life. Phrases like “your table is waiting,” and “would you like a drink before we take off?” clearly belong in this comforting category. Strangely, however, the phrase “welcome to Beverly Hills, here are the keys to your Lexus IS250C,” does not.

The day before leaving for Southern California, the Oregon skies opened up after a brief pause, blanketing Portland with what locals refer to as “liquid sunshine” [Ed: not that kind of liquid sunshine... we still brew beer the old-fashioned way up here]. Needless to say, a day of plying the sun-soaked Pacific Coast Highway in a convertible of any kind should have felt like a deeply hedonistic event. And given the dearth of convertible options left in today’s market, the IS250C’s premium appeal should have only added to the Angelean fantasy. After all, I’m not back in the Oregon gloom trying to come up with new adjectives to apply to the Sebring Convertible. And yet, strangely, my time in the Lexus IS250C has left so light an impression that the moral clarity of a ‘bring ‘vert review seems almost worth the necessary day of automotive misery.

In any case, the 250C is wholly unworthy of the term “misery.” The 250C is a thoroughly solid attempt at unseating BMW’s 3-series hardtop convertible as the standard-issue conveyance of choice for the country club set, and other wealthy folk who see themselves as too sophisticated for a mid-life-crisis-mobile. And with rear-wheel-drive, a folding hard-top and legitimate room for four, it certainly has the on paper qualities needed to attract this desirable demographic.

Unfortunately, something is lost in translation between the handsome Lexus IS sedan and its coupe-convertible cousin. Where BMW’s convertibles are only barely distinguishable from their handsome coupe cousins by virtue of their delicate C-pillars, the IS-C is a hot mess of unfortunately differentiating elements. The solid C-Pillars which, in IS sedan duty bring the car’s visual heft rearward for more classic proportions, are reduced to thin elements rising from a sloping hump under which the origami top retracts. The chopped roof abandons an awkwardly-proportioned rear deck, while lending neither the sleekness of a true coupe nor the visual coherence of the IS sedan. Though infinitely better-executed than the comparison suggests, the 250C ends up looking distressingly similar to a (Lord forgive me) Pontiac G6 Convertible.

Inside, the 250C makes up for any possible similarities to such unlamented fare by surrounding its occupants with high-quality materials and thoughtful details. Cooled, heated, multi-adjustable seats are comfortable yet supportive enough for mild enthusiasm. Tasteful dark wood veneer compliments the sober interior’s high-quality if wholly uncreative looks. As with other IS models, however, materials (notably those on the instrument panel) can break the quality spell when touched. Luckily (or not), the mass of IP buttons and confusing climate-controls mean you’ll be staying away anyway. Overall, the impression is akin to riding first-class on a regional flight: nice, but special only in comparison to its alternatives.

With the 250C’s plastic key fob secured in a safe pocket, cruising the Pacific coast requires only a press of the starter button, and about 20 seconds of thumbing a switch that sends the three-piece top into hiding behind the rear seats. Visibility goes from “wow, a two-door that needs a back-up camera” to “wide open spaces,” although top-up interior space is better than you’d expect. Needless to say, putting the top back up while sitting in the driver’s seat is a surefire claustrophobia trigger, and is usually accompanied by much (unnecessary) head-ducking.

With the top down, the 250C’s looks improve considerably, but the transformation takes a heavy toll on trunk space. Seriously, a Porsche Cayman offers more usable storage space (ask me how I know…). Lexus’s considerable efforts to ensure a relatively comfortable rear seat space were all for naught, as that space will inevitably be taken up by any baggage that is more than a foot wide. When the newspaper reviews say the 250C fits a golf club bag, they mean it… and even then, some golf bags would be a tight fit.

This lack of compromise is made all the more galling by the fact that the Lexus is otherwise a paragon of well-considered compromise. Top up, the 250-C is coupe-quiet, with only a few faraway creaks and some well-controlled cowl shake betraying its drophead status. Top down, only brisk side winds coming off the ocean stand a chance of disturbing occupants, and even then, only backseat passengers will find cause for complaint. The 2.5 liter V6 is smoother than a freshly chemical-peeled face, and works with the six-speed autobox like they’ve were raised together. Even with the top down though, there’s never a stirring note to be heard from the pair. No matter: despite serving as the de facto coupe version of the IS range, this Lexus isn’t in any danger of being mistaken for a party girl.

For one thing, the 250C is heavy. It’s packed nearly 500 pounds on its transformation from solid sports sedan to Hollywood honey, and can you ever feel it. Literally. Even if you never hoist the IS-C into a corner with unwarranted enthusiasm, you’ll feel a lot of the extra weight each time you open and close its extended doors. And when you do give in to immature instincts, you learn the lesson (specifically, Newton’s laws of motion) quickly. Though the suspension is passably firm, and the steering is surprisingly well-weighted, the IS-C turns slowly and without gusto. And with only 200 horsepower on tap (and, by the seat-of-the-pants measure, much less until you reach 6,400 RPM), the little V6 doesn’t like exiting corners either.

A Lexus that would rather cruise in comfort than tear up a windy road… now you’ve heard it all, right? Once again, the IS250C has a compromise to keep you guessing. With the automatic transmission in “manual” mode, and the dashboard-mounted “sport” button depressed, the Lexus can actually muster enough fun to keep, say, a golf enthusiast engaged for short periods. With better tip-in, and the freedom to shift at will, the V6 spins freely, rising from a muted purr to a slightly tinny thrash. It’s still no corner carver, but when driven purposefully it’s good enough to scare the wife just the right amount on the way to your tee time.

To put it another way, the IS-C’s underpinnings are actually good enough to recommend upgrading to the 300 HP 3.5 liter option. Starting at $44,890, it’s almost exactly the same price as BMW’s stripped 328i Convertible, and loaded with Lexus’s luxury package it’s only a whisker more (and infinitely better-equipped) than a similarly-powered base 335i convertible (although it faces further competition from the Infiniti G Convertible). But this baby version? As tested, with the full luxury package, it still comes in below below $49k… and that’s a stiff price for an underpowered convertible no matter how you cut it.

Maybe it was the too-smooth-for-its-own-good engine. Maybe it was the sea of Maseratis and Astons that roared past the Lexus on the Pacific Coast Highway. Or maybe it was simply that no car can match up to the hedonistic image that Southern California holds for winter-weary Oregonians. Whatever the reason, the IS250C never lived up to the promise of the phrase “a weekend drive down PCH in a Lexus convertible.” For the money, a loaded Volvo C70 offers better looks, better interior flair, and more sense of occasion, without giving up any meaningful RWD benefits. The BMW, though more expensive, is still a BMW. The Lexus is simply too refined, too anodyne and too compromised where it counts, to be worth more than an impulse buy.

Luckily dropping a healthy annual income on a luxury convertible without considering its competitors does make you feel like you’ve arrived. Even if the convertible itself doesn’t.

Budget of Beverly Hills, an independently owned-and-operated franchise of Budget Rent-A-Car gave us a discounted rental rate on the vehicle for this review. And having endured a nightmare experience with other, non-independent Budget shops in the area, we feel obligated to note that, in addition to offering a wide variety of luxury and exotic cars as well as “regular” rentals, Budget of Beverly Hills also provides a very un-Budget-like level of customer service.

Lexus should include a PlayStation 3 with every GS350 they sell the public, so the new owners can take their new vehicle for a spin around the Nurburgring in “Gran Turismo.” That way they’d be able to safely enjoy their new Lexus and not waste a single penny in gas. Either way, the driving experience wouldn’t change much.

The GS350 makes a nice first impression styling-wise – smooth, handsome, surprisingly sleek, and nicely detailed. Gaze at the GS350 in profile, at a low angle, and  it looks long, low and purposeful, like a futuristic car from the 1980’s Japanese animated film Akira. Like the original Lexuses (or is it Lexi?), this car will never really look out of date. And it’s more than just design; the engineers and assembly workers perfected their craft exquisitely. Body panel gaps are small enough to nearly disappear in dim light, and the paint job looks as close to grand piano-glossy as anything this side of a Rolls Royce.

Inside things are conservatively handsome, in the vein of a Nokia phone design. The GS350 greets the driver with a clean dash, and a detailed instrument panel with watch-face texturing. In typical Lexus fashion, the center stack pops out more convex plastic than a box of bubble-wrap. And yet, like the bubble-wrap, you can’t keep your hands off the things. One ergonomic curiosity: some secondary controls, like the power mirrors, instrument panel dimmer, and stability control shutoff, are housed in a fold-away compartment to the driver’s left. This gives the dash a less cluttered appearance, but it feels like an unnecessary gimmick in an otherwise straightforward dashboard. Perhaps Toyota has a single errant Citroen spy in their midst….

Lexus upgraded the GS350’s 3.5 liter V-6 to 303 horsepower for 2009, and it’s  worthy improvement over the previous powerplant, which loved to rev, but didn’t produce a whole lot of power. The updated mill is smooth and powerful, but perhaps a bit too slick for its own good. Drivers looking for proof that luxury doesn’t mean soullessness should look elsewhere. If they weren’t already.
The slick-shifting six-speed sequential-shift automatic transmission – probably the best overall in this test – always has the right cog ready, and it allows the high-revving V-6 to sing soprano. Peak torque is at 3600 rpm, so the GS350 doesn’t blast off the line like the BMW does, but if you keep your foot in it, there’s considerable performance potential here. Lexus estimates a very credible 5.8 second dash to 60, but sadly the soundtrack is as boogie-motivating as a Philip Glass opera.

Luckily (or not), the Lexus wasn’t in the mood to dance anyway. Hit the twisties, and the GS350’s main weakness becomes clear: lack of communication between machine and driver. Things feel so remote and disengaged at the helm, as to make one wonder when a Playstation controller will finally be offered as a factory option. Folks who see driving as a chore might enjoy the overboosted ease around town, but the old adage, “BMW engineers take the autobahn to work, and Toyota engineers take the subway” will ring unfortunately true for enthusiasts.
The dynamic news front doesn’t proclaim DrudgeReport level despair though – the GS350’s refined chassis provides reasonable responsiveness, and the ride / handling tradeoff feels solid. The car hums down the Interstate raising no more than a whisper, and the isolation-chamber experience helps makes rush hour a far more tolerable experience than it should be. If you have stress issues, consider the GS as your road-going psychotherapist.
The GS’ reason-over-lust nature extends to pricing – the test car, with navigation, a splendid Mark Levinson sound system, ventilated seats, and all-wheel-drive, came in at a very reasonable $52,185. The traditional Lexus virtues – long-term durability, resale value, quality, and top-notch dealer service – will keep the GS’ driver happy and satisfied for a long time, as long as felonious driving isn’t on their menu.
But high-speed Baruthian episodes on our nation’s highways simply aren’t in the Lexus’s sensible-luxury oeuvre. What this means is that there are many good reasons a rational, logical, and ultimately boring person can choose from to justify settling for the Lexus. Maybe they drove the Lexus first, and decided, “hey, this will do.” Maybe their definition of luxury is met by sepulchral silence alone. Or maybe they’re  upgrading from a Camry. In any case you can’t blame them… but you can do better.
Performance: 4/5
The upgraded engine is smooth, powerful, and easy on the ears, with a smart, slick autobox, but you have to keep your right foot planted to keep the power coming
Ride 5/5
Here’s the payoff for all that isolation and refinement – your very own road-going Fortress of Solutide

Handling: 1/5
And here’s the downside for all that isolation and refinement – a driving simulator for the road
Exterior: 3/5
Nothing exciting, but this look will wear well over time
Interior: 4/5
Somewhat cramped, but stylish and beautifully made
Fit and Finish: 5/5
Inside and out, the GS is flawless and heirloom-quality
Toys: 4/5
The off-the-wall stuff – heads up displays, lane departure warning systems, night vision, and the like – isn’t on the menu here, but the all expected goodies are, and the price is very reasonable
Desirability: 2/5
The GS350 might be a gotta-have for “Consumer Reports Is My Good Book” types, but those of with gasoline in our veins should look elsewhere

Euphemisms are our friends. If it weren’t for “calamari” my kids would have never tried squid. Similarly, the SUV became a more palatable version of the station wagon—although I am not sure how the wagon became an object of scorn by my generation. I have many happy memories slouched down in the third row, kissing girls. I suppose piloting one of those behemoths might have tempered my enthusiasm for the genre. The early SUVs were thinly disguised trucks and evolved to become more like tall wagons currently known as crossovers. If the designers over at BMW have their way, mutant ninja vehicles will soon replace the crossovers. In the meantime, we have the 2010 Lexus RX350.

The RX is the best selling Lexus model of all time. Clearly, understandably, the folks in Toyota City didn’t want to stray too far from a successful formula. (From baby Benz to proscription Benzos). Though appropriately soporific, the 2010 RX350 is not an improvement on gen 2, which had one or two good angles. The best I can say about the new RX’s exterior: the front looks slightly less goofy. The new exterior color choices are, however, goofier than Donald D.’s standing canine companion.  I haven’t seen a color like “Golden Almond Metallic” since I last changed my daughter’s diapers.

The RX350′s interior is a horse [power] of a different color: cool, modern, contemporary and uncluttered. It’s the best Lexus interior since the recently lamented SC400. The RX350′s seats are plush and inviting, made more so by the new perforated leather. They won’t hold you in place during frisky driving maneuvers, but then you won’t be making any. Mark this part of the report card “comfortably numb.”

The seats’ heating and cooling controls are inconveniently hidden beneath the front part of the center armrest, which slides rearward to reveal twin rotary dials. When I pressed the start button, the seat and steering wheel moved into driving position, a first for the RX (only the steering wheel presents itself in the outgoing model). I did miss the old RX’s handy, albeit somewhat flimsy compartment in the center console, which held all manner of cell phones, Kleenex boxes and my wife’s not insubstantial purse. Fortunately, the new glove box is a gaping maw which looks capable of swallowing a medium sized dog.

The RX 350′s Mark Levinson sound system remains an aural delight but it’s no longer head of the class. The gizmo count is impressive but breaks little original ground: heads up displays, XM real-time traffic and weather, dynamic radar cruise, intuitive parking assist—all new to the RX but not to the world of luxury automobiles.

Typically, Japanese luxury vehicles telegraph their pretense of technical sophistication by haphazardly scattering various subsystem controls all about the dash, counterintuitive to ergonomics. In the previous model, I always struggled to change the settings for the heat or figure out which radio station I was listening to. Not so the 2010 RX, which assembles the major controls into one iDrive like unit.

I know what you are thinking, here comes the rant (again). But the RX 350′s multimedia controller is transparent in its operation. There was hardly any learning curve (or leaning curve, but we’ll get to that): the device operates pretty much like a computer mouse with a selector button on the side. One of my biggest complaints about my current RX: I can’t operate the navigation system while in motion. As I fiddled around and checked to see if the new model had changed this, I ran a red light. Which illustrated exactly why they set things up this way.

The RX 350′s driving experience is somewhat improved, mostly attributable to the addition of a few hundred pounds of needed ballast. The old RX always felt too light and uncontrolled. The 2010 model feels more buttoned down and even a bit Germanic. The optional sport package may prove as transformational as it is on the LS, or it may not. Meanwhile, I sampled an RX 350 with the nineteen inch wheels. They ruined the ride quality without a concomitant contribution to the driving fun quotient.

The RX 350′s acceleration is crisp and creamy. The seemingly step-less six-speed is nearly as seamless as a CVT. Performance is mid-pack for the crossover competition. She’ll waft from 0 to 60 in a respectable 7.5 seconds, consuming 20 miles per gallon on average. More to the point, at least for the RX 350′s core clientele, the sound insulation is improved largely via reduced wind noise.

There is little doubt that this is best RX yet, although perhaps not the best looking. The RX 350 offers more luxury, more features, more conveniences, more . . . where was I? Oh, yes. The 2010 RX will be heading to my garage soon. It’s not a wagon, not really an SUV, and CUV seems somehow . . . forced. Let’s just call it “perfect.”

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

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

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

5th Place — Mercedes-Benz C63 AMG

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

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

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

Theme song: “Deuces Wild” by Link Wray

4th Place — Lexus IS-F

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

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

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

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

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

3rd Place — Audi RS4

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

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

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

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

2nd Place — BMW M3

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

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

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

Theme song: I take Beethoven’s fifth.

1st Place — Cadillac CTS-V (Manual)

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

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

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

Theme song: anything by Stevie Ray Vaughan.

“There is nothing quite like it!” Every enthusiast I know has that attitude towards their car. But rarely is it actually true. Platforms are shared. Engines and transmissions are modified and tossed into whatever else can accommodate them from a cost perspective.  Compromises are made. Only sometimes they aren’t. Sometimes you can buy something so unique, so timeless, that you can appreciate it’s qualities even twenty or thirty years later. The Lexus SC400 is one of those rare, outstanding machines. Let’s start with the door hinge.

That’s right. That usual flimsy piece of metal that’s supposed to keep the door open and closed through the ages. On most cars, as the car ages, the bolts holding the hinge to the frame will eventually get a little loose, and the welds can actually wear out over time. At some point, you will eventually hear a popping sound when you open the door. Some owners fix it. Most ignore it. But Lexus SC400 owners will never face the choice.

The SC400′s door hinges were an absolute engineering monstrosity, as over-engineered and built as those of any similar era—or earlier—Mercedes-Benz. Lexus built in quality trying to make this car eternally seamless and genre-compatible silent. The bushes and flanges that make up the SC400′s über-hinges are as thick as a brick. They’re triple-welded into a geometric design that can hold the SC’s door at any angle. No other car from that time period can do it. None.

Of course, many folks will think I’m nuts to mention the quality built into a simple component, one that most manufacturers simply glaze over. But this website has long argued that quality will out; time makes you appreciate the care and attention lavished on a methodically engineered and assembled vehicle. For reliability freaks, the SC400 has “it.”

The 4.0-liter V8 engine in the 1992 SC400 has specs suitable for today’s car market. 0-60 in 6.9 seconds. 32-valve engine. 250 horsepower. It’s pretty fast for today and amazingly quick for then.

But those numbers don’t tell the whole story. Combined with the four-speed electronic automatic transmission, the engine is just plain unkillable. It can literally out-diesel a diesel when it comes to longevity, and it’s infinitely more quiet. When you can find one at the auctions, they will almost always have odometers far north of 200k. I’ve seen many with over 300k that still sell wholesale in the $1500 to $2000 range.

In nearly all cases, the SC’s dashboard and real walnut trim will be devoid of any cracks or wear. Even in the south. It’s incredible. Getting into one of these cars is like entering a time warp.

Speaking of which, when most people enter the SC400, the first things they will notice is the amazing material quality. The soft leather on well bolstered bucket seats and generous use of wood contrasts well with soft surfaces on the door panels and armrests that were rock hard and plastic in other competing models. Lexus today has a long history of coddling their occupants; this model certainly helped give rise to that rep.

Unlike today’s luxury cars, Lexus kept everything simple and straightforward inside the SC400. There’s no need or desire for multiple displays of the same information. No need for buttons ad nauseam (knobs work very well, thank you). The SC simply gives you all the information you need when you need it.  Today’s designers could learn an awful lot by reconsidering the SC400′s more driver-focused, less gadget-laden cabin.

The Lexus SC400 is a strikingly comfortable and simple vehicle to drive. A short dash overhang and plain Jane interior ergonomics makes this large coupe surprisingly agile and dare I say it, safe. Nothing exciting stock. But aside from the IS-F, anesthetized is how Lexus rolls.

The Lexus coupe does have a few expensive wear “issues,” but they’re not what I’d call cataclysmic. The red needles on the dash wear out and turn black; the entire display may follow. A couple hundred bucks will fix it, without visiting the clock-is-ticking dealer. The SC400′s electronic luminescent displays for the radio and temp will also wear out, although the simple knobs will control both.

And like any other power antenna of 1990s vintage, the one on the Lexus will be sheared off given enough encounters with a garage door. Otherwise the fluids to maintain the car are dirt cheap. Maintenance under the hood is surprisingly owner-friendly, and the opportunity to customize and modify the car make it one of the few that can keep an enthusiast’s interest for a long time.

If you find a well preserved one with less than 150k. Buy it. If you can find an SC300 with an all too rare manual tranny in it. Call me first. I’ll buy it and be your new best friend.

In terms of brand betrayal, the Lexus IS-F is only sight less egregious than Jaws 3-D. Why add a performance sub-brand to a marque that answered the question: when better Buicks are built, who will build them? Suffice it to say, this is no time to be screwing around with Lexus; sales have slipped lower than an M3′s front valance. The F-on or F-off argument will remain in suspended animation until the worldwide auto business recovers. So I’ll let my grandchildren hash it out. Did I just say M3 again? Damn.

Which reminds me of the English expression: damn your eyes sir! Done. It’s hard to discern the difference between fish-eye photographs of the IS-F and the wee beastie in the flesh. (I half expected my high school headmaster to thrust his face in front of mine and ask “Are you sure you haven’t taken something?”) There isn’t a single viewing angle that makes the slightest bit of sense. The rear three-quarter is as close to handsome as this tuner-clad mutant gets, and that’s ruined by quad tailpipes designed by Salvator Dali.

Lower yourself into the supportive embrace of the IS-F’s Lexian leather and there’s much to admire. The oil dampened ash tray’s a hoot. And I love the feel of lacquered milled aluminum in the morning. Feels like… plastic. Only sexier. The IS-F boasts the world’s finest gauges: simple, legible and elegant. The tachometer is right where it should be (on the right). And what’s this hold-me touch-me steering wheel doing in a Lexus? Even stranger, the brand’s faultlessly boring buttons, knobs, dials and icons all seem somehow more purposeful when mounted so close to hand. There’s not a lot of head, leg, shoulder, arm or torso room in the back, but that’s someone else’s problem. 

Stirring the IS-F’s Yamaha-fettled direct-injection 5.0-liter V8– the same engine that whooshes the LS 600hL’s occupants to the Sierra Club annual ball– rouses a pillow-smothered burble. The speedo and tacho’s white wands swing to clockwise and back in a two rapid, perfectly synchronized arcs. Toto, I have a feeling we’re not headed for the golf club. Or if we are, we’re going to get some serious driving range action before tee time. It’s my kind of cognitive dissonance. 

Yes, yes; there’s no stick; like any good English public school, paddles rule. Lexus’ trick tranny is plenty quick, and there’s a sport button to make you think it’s even faster when you’re in a hurry. So just make sure you brought your Shell car, put it in D and mash the gas. 

 The 416hp IS-F’s goal is instantly clear: to provide more thrust than the kidney-crushing Mercedes C63 AMG. Which it can’t And doesn’t. But it’s not for lack of trying. The IS-F generates more shove than a German buffet line, propelling the carcoon from zero to sixty in 4.2 seconds. Above 3400 rpm, an induction howl rushes in even as the blood rushes away from your extremities. Redline arrives at “just” 6800 (cough M3 cough), but there’s enough basso profundo sonic enticement to make cog swapping a pleasure.

The IS-F’s greatest handling “fault” (in the comparative, not absolute sense) is a heavy, sodden feeling at initial turn in. It’s the kind of sluggishness that once characterized uber-Audis, that tempts you to just go on floor the damn thing already. Muscle car aficionados will appreciate the tail wagging action. If you like to dance, there are more balletic partners.  

There’s a better way to look at this. The IS-F’s steering, handling and brakes are more than good enough when you want to drive a Lexus like your hair’s on fire. Of course, that presumes you want to drive a Lexus. And as a rule, people who want to drive a Lexus don’t want to drive like they’re in pain. Why would they?

So why would Lexus build the IS-F? How many bi-polar pistonheads would spend the thick end of $50k on an ugly Lexus that goes like Hell? Judging from current IS-F inventory levels and the fact that I can’t find any PR shots, not many. It doesn’t make much sense, but I know of at least one driver who’d adopt this unlikely orphan.

Neither model disappoints the crossover breed: the blend of fast curves and a quick D-pillar (of a car-wannabe) work fine with the height advantage (so to speak) of a pretend SUV. Sure, both the Hyundai and Lexus are cursed by the two-box design limitations, but imitation is the sincerest form of flattery: the Korean upstart did a fine job ripping-off the RX 350’s recipe for success.

Until they inevitability park side-by-side at the local grocery store: the Veracruz is the Ugly Betty to the hotness that’s the RX 350’s Hilda Suarez sheetmetal. Sure, the Lexus has a flashier badge, but that expensive dress comes with a slimmer waistline, toned buttocks, and a flirtatious kick-up in the quarter windows. Score one for the original luxo CUV: the bloated, taperless contours of the Veracruz send it deep into undesirable minivan territory.

The race tightens up within the confines of both, provided you have a bad case of Anosmia. The Hyundai’s interior has a fine blend of wood-ish trim, soft vinyl, silver toned plastic and chrome bits. At first glance, the Veracruz interior matches the Lexus RX’s trimmings right down to the electroluminescent logos on the door sills. But the flat-black gauges look somewhat down market, and the smell of The Ghosts of Hyundais Past is (tragically) present and accounted for. Hyundai better take their quality game up from the usual sight, sound and touch parameters, because no other brand competing in the $20,000+ territory has a new car smell this unattractive.

By contrast, the RX 350 is a safe haven for the stressed-out soccer mom archetype, providing the tranquil reassurance of a Japanese rock garden with no empty promises from a presidential campaign. The leather and wood rimmed tiller feels more expensive than any vehicle remotely near its price class. Though Hyundai matches its Japanese role model for interior content (real wood accents notwithstanding), the Lexus simply feels like a more expensive vehicle.

Even with the Hyundai’s larger accommodations, somewhat acceptable 3rd row seating and superior front seat bottoms, this is a no brainer: the Lexus promise of nice trees, fragrant leather, and gorgeous Optitron gauges wins the day.

Motivating the 3800lb RX 350 is Toyota’s corporate 3.5L V6. It sports more power (10hp) than the 3.8L V6 offered in the 4300lb Veracruz. Stomp the RX 350 from a standstill and the front wheels furiously grasp for traction when the motor sings in first gear. Even with an extra forward gear, the Veracruz slowly stately builds steam, unhappily revving to an overburdened power peak. Even if the Veracruz possessed the liquid smooth mill of the RX 350, its extra 500lbs of girth are impossible to mask. Advantage: Lexus.

Luckily the Veracruz’s extra weight translates to a controlled, plush ride on any surface. While RX 350 is soft and spongy, its lack of girth translates into less than inspiring control. With its top-heavy design on float-inducing highways, the Lexus’ cabin briefly gives the sensation of dropping hundreds of feet in a rickety wooden roller coaster, when its front suspension goes from unloaded to loaded. This is an easy win for the big body Hyundai.

On the handling front, let’s call it a draw. The smaller RX 350 cuts a corner with less inertia-fed, front wheel drive push, lowering the holy shit factor for all occupants. But if you think either of these CUVs have a lick of noteworthy dynamic qualities, please broaden your automotive horizons. There’s a reason why Pistonheads lament the (gradual) extinction of the station wagon.

That said, we all know Minivans are the king of carrying mind-numbing amounts of stuff, while almost driving like a car. SUVs haul like nobody’s business and teach smaller, lighter vehicles the cold reality of Newtonian Physics. True to crossover form, the Hyundai Veracruz and Lexus RX 350 do none of the above remarkably well. So there’s no winner?

Negative! At $41k, the nicely loaded Lexus is around $5000 more than a Limited-grade Veracruz. Factor in the stinky interior and the derivative “this ain’t no game-changing Genesis” drive train, and the luxo-budget Veracruz cannot gel for this much coin. So if you (or your significant other) demand a CUV, pimp the ride that’ll instantly impress your friends and neighbors: the Lexus is the winner in this challenge between two whips not likely to be cross-shopped.

[Carmax provided both vehicles, insurance and a tank of gas.]

On the outside, the IS250 is a Toyota Camry that's had some work done. The curves are tighter and less bulbous, the lines flow better, the taillights smirk a little bit more, and the front end doesn't make you vomit in your mouth a little. Despite the most transcendental color I've ever seen on a car ("Breakwater Blue Metallic"), the IS250 remains a perfect Lexus: uninspiring but attractive. If only Toyota could make all their brands so handsome (I'm looking at you Scion).

Inside, you wear– rather than sit on– the IS250's supple leather seats. Provided genetics are working in your favor, the glove-like thrones offer an irresistible embrace. Every interior surface feels soft and inviting, begging to be touched and stroked and savored. There's buttery smooth leather, cool precise steel, firm but yielding plastic… I'm sorry, where was I? Yes, the cabin. 

I'm tempted to deploy a Lexus cliché and compare the IS250 to a living room. But as I mostly hang with grad students and the lower middle class, I haven't seen a chillatorium that even comes close. Throw in a flat screen and a Wii the interior's non-incarcerational Hotel California: you can sit down any time you like, but you'll never want to leave.

The interior seats two happy adults and two pissed-off passengers. The rear smashes legs so badly that Lexus had to scoop out space in the front seats for occupants' knees and shins, lest the trip end with your patellas and the driver's kidneys getting restraining orders.

Push the IS250's start button (keyless ignition, ‘natch) and the engine purrs to life. It sounds like a kitten, and it is, with only 204hp underhood. That may seem like a lot of power for a cramped four-seater, but the V6 mill's got 3435 pounds of rear wheel-drive Lexus to motivate. Zero to sixty takes a shade under eight seconds. To the average Joe– I mean Jane "moving up" from her Corolla, it's bitchin'. For anyone used to what we speed demons like to call a lick of speed, the IS350.

In fact, the IS250 only two advantages over the IS350 (since their gas mileage is nearly identical). Price and a manual transmission. In keeping with the Lexus tradition, the IS250's slick six-speed stick shift makes driving easy, not fun. 

The IS250 lives up to the Lexus bland… er, brand… with its comfortable, smooth, easygoing ride. The suspension poses a real danger to the local animal population; they'll disappear under the IS250's tires without the driver hearing or feeling a thing. Road noise? Bah! The interior insulates so well you'll wonder if you're ambling along in a Prius.

The IS250's combination of the cozy interior and cushy ride is a narcoleptic's worst nightmare; the driving dynamics sure as heck won't keep them awake. Throw the IS250 around a corner and it handles… gracefully. While I'm sure the baby Lexus understeers like a battleship at the limit, who knows? There's nowhere near enough power to create the sort of stark terror that keeps the IS350 driver awake. 

Maybe that's why the IS250's a chick car: guys crave danger, excitement. Clearly, your mother-in-law isn't going to whip this puppy around a corner at top speed, heel-and-toe a perfect downshift, and run it up to the redline (at least my mother-in-law wouldn't… come to think of it, if she did, we might get along better). Lexus built an IS250 that's safe and comfortable. And safe. And comfortable. Just the way their customers like it. 

But wait, there's more! The IS250's option sheet will prove your wallet's undoing, and there are more airbags than the DNC.

Even in base trim, every iinch of the IS250 is well-appointed, smooth and satisfactory; it's miles above cars like the Acura TSX and Volvo S60. Buick? Don't make me laugh. In fact, the IS250 is perfect– as in "a perfect night's sleep." There's not a gram of excitement to be had in the whole car. 

Whether you've got a Y chromosome or not or not, the Lexus IS250 is the single best entry-level luxury car for people who don't like driving. For anyone whose blood panel workups include an octane rating, it's unnervingly dull. You'll enjoy every pampered, luxurious minute, and then curse yourself for doing so. And then you'll lapse into a coma. Hang on; are we there already?    

The LS600hL is no design statement, like the 760Li. It doesn't announce, "I have a huge wallet" like a Mercedes S600. The LS design is much more Audi A8 W12, only without the goatee. The restrained yet handsome lines strike the same chord as VW's Phaeton. Only this time they're brand correct.

The LS600hL is a handsome package. At a distance, the big four-door appears clean and reserved. It's only when you pull up next to (and dwarf) anything else on the road that the long-wheelbase Japanese pseudo limo makes aesthetic sense. In a word: presence. In two: killer headlights.

Inside the LS600hL offers a hilarious split between grasping at straws luxury and techno overkill. You've never seen so many buttons. Lexus engineers loaded a shotgun with 'em and blasted away. The last LS I drove-complete with the mid-level rear-seat overkill option-boasted 166 buttons. This time out, the car was down to about 130 pieces of Camry-quality plastic to press. Still, you'll go crazy. And you'll never even notice the gaudily lacquered wood or hand stitched yet still not that rich leather because your attention will 100 percent focused on the AFS button. Whatever that is. 

You want the truth about this car's mileage? Can you handle the truth? But before we discuss how much gas it sucks, I need to tell you about yet another button…

A toggle switch below the gear lever controls the LS600hL's throttle response. In the "Hybrid" setting, the first 10 percent-ish of peddle travel only engages the car's electric motor. "Snow" ups that to an almost undrivable level. Seeing as how this was my second fling with the LS600hL, I knew to stick it in "Sport" (about 3 percent pedal motion) before I pushed the start button. And that was that.

"That" means about 10 mpg around town. Terrible, yes. In both my and the car's defense, the massive, battering-ram acceleration from the 5.0-liter V8 plus the 221 hp electric motor is so addictive that I was forced to bury the pedal every chance I got. But here's the thing — after 300 miles the computer let me know that I had averaged 24.8 mpg. Say what?

As you may have guessed, there's a bit of ideal circumstances involved. The first piece of the puzzle is a lot of open road. The next is the radar cruise control, which does perform impressively (slowing the car down to a stop and setting off again in traffic). Forget the radar part. Just set the cruise to 80 mph and watch in sheer amazement as the tachometer registers a paltry 1,100 rpm and the computer claims 40 mpg.

Now for the part you can't handle… Setting the cruise control at 110 mph returns 25 mpg as the engine just crests 2,000 rpm.

I briefly mentioned the rocket sled-esque forward thrust but it merits repeating. Holy runaway train, Batman! This 5,219 monster flies like a Bentley. Rumor has it that Lexus can't quite figure out how much torque the car produces. They claim "just" 385 ft-lb of the stuff. However, the IS-F kicks out 371 ft-lb and it's the same (gas) engine. And the electric motor offers up 100 percent of what it's got at any rpm. Based on the seat of my pants, I say they're severely underrating the twist.

In his review, Mr. Montgomery described the following as bad manners; when you lift your foot off the gas, the electric mill provides an extra dollop of shove. I find it reassuring. And fun. You think that sounds dangerous? Perhaps, but Lexus did see fit to (uh) fit the LS600hL with some of the most serious stoppers in the luxo-barge biz.

The world's biggest hybrid weighs more than Oprah in her heavier years, but stretches over 17 feet. Which means the handling is about what you'd imagine. To be fair, the world's most expensive hybrid handles commendably. But you'd never know, as gauze-wrapped steering and active anti-roll bars dial out all sensation. Good or otherwise. Of course, you can't hear either engine, the CVT (literally — no whine), the wind, rocket attacks or anything.

So, should you buy one? Yes, absolutely. Look, it ain't going to save the earth or your checking account. But the LS600hL does get appreciably better mileage than the competition. And goes like a jet plane with a silencer.

Yes, well, that’s exactly what Lexus has in mind. No longer content to be characterized as a purveyor of exceedingly well-built Buicks, Lexus is now vying for the youth vote. The IS-F’s ambitious charge: lure well-heeled hormonal enthusiasts away from Euro thoroughbreds like the M3, revitalize the brand’s image and pour young blood into its late middle-age demographic pool.

It’s a sensible strategy. But “sensible” is a four-letter word in this particular marketing exercise. Lexus wants buyers to think of this and future F variants as something a lot more Xtreme than its ice cool luxobarges. Thus, the IS-F’s press materials couch it as a controversial anomaly, the rogue brainchild of “a covert team of engineers” working deep within the Japanese giant. Suffice it to say, it makes for some eye-rolling reading.

Never mind. The IS-F’s vitals speak for themselves: a 5.0-liter V8 churning out the aforementioned 416 ponies (and 371 ft.-lbs. of torque), rear-wheel-drive, 14.2-inch drilled and vented front discs, 19” BBS rims wrapped in staggered-width rubber and defeatable traction and stability control. Yes, in a Lexus.

Unfortunately, to partake of this hard-ass hardware you have to look at the thing. The IS-F looks like a basking shark losing a fight with a steamroller. In fairness, the IS-F’s blobby, bulbous nose and filter-feeder fenders are largely a necessity of function; its monster motor wouldn’t have cleared anything sleeker. But otherwise, the IS-F ain’t got no alibi. Surveying its overwrought skirts, flares, and stacked quad tailpipes (which don’t actually connect to the exhausts), one wonders just how “youthful” an audience Lexus’ stylists had in mind.

Still interested? Step inside, rub your aching eyes, and be thankful that the cabin’s only juvenile touches are de rigeur plasti-alloy trim plates and aluminum pedals. Elsewhere, the scenery is standard IS, which means a high cowl, modest window slits, and snug proximics at the helm. It’s a fairly dark and buried place to work, and the acres of dark-gray dash polymers do little to lift the mood.

Clearly, the F’s not going to eat an M’s lunch on aesthetics alone. So let’s drive…

Punch the starter button to get the V8 humming, release the foot-operated parking brake, and slide the stubby shifter into “D.” Oh, did I mention that the IS-F is automatic only? The eight-speed slushbox tries hard to involve the driver– blipping its downshifts and allowing manual control through snappy aluminum finger paddles– but when your right arm and left foot are barred from the action, a forlorn sense of distance is inevitable. It’s a fatal flaw, considering F’s “hardcore” design brief.

Nosing onto a crowded road raises more questions about this Lexus’ M-beating mission. First impressions are of the cabin’s eerie hush, the soft-feel pedals and the weighty yet plush steering, which veils your fingertips from imperfections in the asphalt. Crusty low-speed ride aside, the IS-F feels every bit the cool, coddling Lexus.

Given a long, empty ribbon of road, the IS-F again reveals a sharply split personality. Flexing your right foot rips away the layers of Lexus fluff. At WOT, acceleration is torrential and torque-soaked. Lexus claims 0-60 in “under 4.9 seconds.” Any attempt to prove them right/wrong and the V8’s murmur turns to a frenzied howl, courtesy of a secondary air intake that opens at 3,600 rpm. You might as well be pulling its head out from underwater, so dramatic is the shift in its voice.

There’s a predictable downside to the F’s binary nature: Mr. Hyde only comes out to play above safe, legal velocities. The chassis boasts tasty balance at the limit, and the steering enlivens somewhat under load. But given the tires’ immense grip, you’d be nuts to sample either trait on your morning commute. So you back off, the engine fades to Muzak and Toyota’s patented anesthetic drips back into the primary controls. Yawn. Why does this cost $56k again?

And that’s the problem with the IS-F. To sprinkle the magic dust of desirability onto Lexus’ fledgling performance sub-brand, this car needed to match its Euro rivals for driver appeal, beat them on price and let enthusiasts fill in the “cachet” gap. The IS-F misses the marque; it’s a sort of designer-label STI, or an Evo’s dandy city cousin. Get kaizening on this one, Lexus. Otherwise that “F” may come to stand for… nothing much.

The LS600hL is Abel to the LS460L’s Cain. Only the dashing “Hybrid”-embossed chrome swooshes across the door panel bottoms indicate the hL’s relative virtue. The LS remains a deeply anodyne design whose size and stance are the only indication that something expensive this way cometh. Still, bonus points for not following BMW into flame surfaced Hell, and the LS’ integrated exhaust pipes are plenty wikkid. 

The “L” bookending the model designation indicates that this not so mean green machine is 4.8” longer than a standard LS460. The benefits are best appreciated in the back, where there’s enough leg room for environmentally conscious passengers to roll out their yoga mats and contort themselves into relaxation poses. Not really. But close. And while we’re back here, sybarites are advised to order the Executive-Class Seating Package ($12,500) and enjoy a Sharper Image-style chair massage.

In an echo of the late, unlamented VW Phaeton W12, the hL’s center rear seat is replaced with a fixed console. The middle bit contains controls for the rear quarters of the sedan’s four-zone climate control system. It also conceals a handy wood-trimmed table and a rear seat cool box, suitable for chilling the finest beverages. Of course, all of these features are also be found on the Earth-ravaging LS460L. But it’s worth noting that hybrid drivers need surrender naught in the way of creature comforts in their endless pursuit of good karma. 

If LS600hL hybrid intenders were worried about battery whine or a rough ride, they may rest easy, safe in the knowledge that the hL entombs its passengers in an automotive mausoleum. There are hunter killer submarines that generate more internal decibels than an hL at speed. Occupants who consider “road feel” as desirable as herpes will be delighted with the hL’s suspension. The discriminating buttocks of Lexus-born bluebloods need never fear champagne-spilling jolts from impudent potholes or impolite speed bumps– until emergency maneuvering is required or an ill-bred hooligan gets behind the wheel.

Put the world’s most expensive gas – electric hybrid through its paces and you’ll awaken bad manners you wouldn’t expect from a conveyance with a six-figure price tag. Pull your foot off the go-pedal and the hL’s over-exuberant hybrid drive train continues to deliver accelerative boost for a few inopportune moments. Stomp on the brakes and you induce unrefined and poorly modulated retardation from the regenerative braking system.

While the hL is a sub-six second to sixty luxobarge, the hybrid's handling is hampered by the fact that it’s a heavy old thing. The all wheel-drive hL adds 717 pounds of hybrid heft to the rear wheel-drive equation; weighing-in at 5049 pounds in all. Throw in the marshmallow suspenders, add a bit of over-sharp steering response, and you’re left with a car that’s almost as corner-aversive as a Swiss skiing chalet. The optional $3k Active Power Stabilizer will quell some of the nautical motions, but there’s only one cure for the hybrid’s spastic throttle and braking response: buy another car.

TTAC’s Jay Shoemaker astutely observed that Lexus makes cars for people who hate to drive. For car-haters who think the base LS460L isn’t expensive enough, the LS600hL will separate them from an additional $32,500 of their money. Mileage in town theoretically improves from 16mpg to 20mpg. But on the highway, the LS460L out-economizes the pseudo-green machine by two miles per gallon.

At the risk of sounding churlishly non-PC, let’s think about the hL’s economics for a moment. If an owner drove 15k miles a year– all of them in the city– he would save 187.5 gallons of gasoline a year. At $3.00 a gallon, it would take him 57 years and nine months to recoup the LS600hL’s “hybrid premium.”  

The LS600hL’s real payoff is, of course, psychological. For one thing, car-haters won’t have to listen to the faint purring of a vulgar internal combustion engine– or at least not as often. For another, owners can say they drive a hybrid. But none of this will stop the globe from warming. In the final analysis, the only point of the LS600hL is to assuage the guilt of shallow, label-conscious snobs. That’s an expensive cure for a senseless affliction. In that sense, the ‘h’ in the model’s name might as well stand for hypocrite.