As I enter the throwaway left-hander, I’m mentally muttering under my breath, “Aim for the third tree, the third tree.” Bris-ing the apex of Turn 8, it’s blue sky time, and I’m hard on the throttle, fully committed. Perfect. Both right wheels just kiss the curb with a faint rumble, and it’s through the right-hand sweeper fast and- wait. Too fast.

Rookie move: lift.

It happens fast. Off track. Rotating left. Into the dirt. Sliding. The tire wall rushing closer. I have time for just one thought…

Thank God this is only Forza.

No, I didn’t attend the Laguna Seca launch of Mazda’s latest crossover, for two very good reasons: one, clearly I have no business being on a racetrack; two, neither does the CX-5.

Jack’s track-take on Mazda’s latest cute-ute revealed a trucklet that actually earned the obligatory mention of jinba-ittai. What’s more, dynamic praise from our resident Visigoth is worth its weight in Nomex, because race car driver.

On the other hand, what are the odds of anyone actually driving Mazda’s clean-sheet CUV competitively? I put it to you that the CX-5′s sparkling on-track performance – while it tells the tale of a brilliantly-sorted chassis and typically sharp Mazda steering – is largely irrelevant. What matters is how it does in the real world.

Let’s face it, the previous Mazda attempt at carving out a slice of the red-hot crossover market wasn’t the greatest car in the world. It was just a Tribute.

What’s more, like many of Mazda’s less-stellar offerings over the years, it was a car that couldn’t quite Escape its Ford roots. Why buy the Mazda? Different trim levels. Yawn.

Here though we have a ground-up, complete redesign that makes the statement: “We are Mazda, and we build small, practical, efficient cars that are more fun to drive than the competition because they are lighter and driver-focussed and maybe they might rust a little bit quickly.”

As you can see – wait, did you say something about rust?

“Um. No.”

Hmm. All right then. Could’ve sworn.

Anyway, for those of you not already aware, SKYACTIV is not a vodka-based sports drink, nor a brand of sweat-proof sunscreen. You can find more details here, but the quick version is: high compression engines, weight-savings everywhere through use of high-strength materials and clever engineering; a focus on driving pleasure as a brand-identifying goal, and on CAPS-LOCK as a marketing tool.

The CX-5 is the first full SKYACTIV vehicle from Mazda, incorporating all the elements of the design philosophy. It is also the first Mazda to sport the new Kodo design language, and I think we can all agree that it looks much better than the out-going smiley-faced Nagare.

Why does the front end put me in mind of Angry Birds? Overall though, a conservatively handsome effort that should have broad appeal by being both inoffensive, yet not overly bland.

This GT model boasts 19” alloys that fill out the wheel wheels nicely, but look relatively normal-sized. The standard 17”s look just fine too, if a bit rinky-dink on the rear, but that’s the way the world is going: the 2018 redesign will probably only look right with the box checked on the optional Donk Package.

If you’re test-driving this car with your heavily pregnant wife (let’s not be sexist: or when heavily pregnant yourself) while the used car manager “makes a few calls” on your Mazda3, then you should find the interior of the CX-5 comfortingly familiar.

Piano black trim, sporty three-spoke steering wheel, easy-to-use HVAC controls; it’s conservative and user-friendly, with that Japanese-VW feel that the old 2.3GT Mazda3 had.

Look at all the smudges I put on that touch-screen: talk about your greasy gaijin. However, with Bluetooth, backup camera, blind-spot indicating mirrors and a decent stereo, there’s nothing else to find fault with up here. And just take a look around back.

I’m 5’11” and probably sit a trifle closer to the steering-wheel than most. Still, the rear-seat in the CX-5 is surprisingly roomy. While it’s directly comparable to the Honda CR-V, somehow the exterior of the Mazda looks much smaller in pictures. Only when you start crawling around in it or park it next to a 5-door Impreza do you see how big the CX-5 actually is.

Rear-facing child seats are a cinch to fit and both Touring and Grand Touring models have a 40/20/40 folding rear seat that allows for a four-adults-plus-skis load-out (no factory roof racks are installed).

With all seats folded flat, the CX-5 is again slightly behind the CR-V in total volume, mostly due to the former’s more-sloping rear glass. The load height is also higher, the rear seats fold only mostly flat – albeit with a single touch – and the tall rear headrests necessitate putting the front seats forward for folding clearance.

Still, if this is replacing a ’3 Sport, or a Matrix, or an Impreza, the increase in size and flexibility of the cargo area is just fine. And then there’s the reason you’re out test-driving the Mazda in the first place.

Pushing the (standard) starter button from cold at winter temperatures elicits the cacophonous racket of a 5hp Evinrude two-stroke outboard jammed in a cutlery drawer. It’s the first hint that the CX-5′s engine is not your run-of-the-mill… er, mill.

With a 13:1 compression ratio giving you a single bragging right over a 458 Italia owner, the 4-2-1 header under the CX-5′s chunky snout efficiently evacuates hot exhaust pulses, allowing MAXIMUM POWAH to be extracted from regular old no-name brand 87 octane gas. Once warmed up, it’s smooth and unclattery but not particularly tuneful.

Or torqueful, and let’s get my single beef with the whole CX-5 driving experience out of the way first. The Skyactiv-G engine is fine. It skews a little towards the “meh” end on the underpowered/overpowered sliding scale – falling short of the “right-powered” sweet-spot of the GLI or, more closely-related, the Miata.

With 3,426 lbs of AWD automatic, the CX-5 adds a bit of forward-planning to my usual death-defying morning escapades on The On-Ramp of Doom. Unlike the CR-V, it actually wants to be revved up. Like the diminutive Mazda2, it can feel a trifle poky.

What really irks is that Mazda also happens to have the Skyactiv-D 2.2L diesel engine, which I have driven. I know, I know, typical enthusiast driver always belly-aching over the lack of a diesel version that there’s no market segment for: why not ask for a manual wagon while you’re at it? However, please believe me when I tell you that a Skyactiv-D equipped CX-5 would be dinosaur-flying-a-jet-plane awesome.

Diesel-powered Mazdaspeed CX-5. Just let that sink in for a minute, and then go say say a few prayers on your rotary beads that we actually get such a thing. Mazda is promising a Skyactiv-D powered something for the 2014 model year, but it’s still a maybe. If you’re listening, Mazda Claus, I promise to be good. ish.

Let’s talk about what we do get with the Skyactiv-G CX-5, because there are two other items on my Zoom-Zoom wish list. First, a “Ds” or similar sport-mode for the very good Skyactiv auto-box.

I’ve already praised Mazda’s new automatic in its Mazda3 application. It’s still good here, although working with an extra 400-odd pounds of heft and only 2 extra lb-ft of twist to help it along. It’s smooth-shifting, direct-feeling and, being conventional, ought to be durable.

Occasionally, however, a bit of a firm prod on the accelerator is required to provoke a downshift. And the manual-shift mode is BMW-backwards (push away to downshift). [EDIT: Controversy!] Please, Mazda, this transmission’s good enough to warrant paddle-shifters. The chassis and steering? Well, that’s good enough to warrant a sport-mode.

And here’s what you already know, but I’m happy to reinforce: even in non-enthusiast, max weight all-wheel-drive-n’-auto spec, the CX-5 is a hoot, a hustler, a corner-carver. It’s a Mazda.

You might not fall for it as quickly as you would a base manual version, or its smaller, more-chuckable bretheren, but the CX-5 is more than willing to go for a gallop. When I drove the Honda CR-V on some very nicely winding roads, it felt aggrieved and alarmed by any spirited driving, spluttering and clucking, “What-where-why are you doing this to meeeeee?”

In contrast, the CX-5 is not only uncomplaining but also even a bit provoking. It is the difference between taking the dog for a walk (more like a drag) and having the dog take you for a walk. There are at least three major roadtrips that I would take this summer, just to find roads good enough for this trucklet to pound around.

In the rain and the traffic and the stop-and-go drudgery of everyday driving, it’s still reasonably good – although the more cut-and-thrust driving you do, the more noticeable that torque vacuum gets. The high-up seating position of a CUV is comfortable and commanding, it’s relatively quiet, and then there’s the fuel economy.

Over the course of three hundred kilometers, I used twenty-seven litres of fuel. Converting from the Canadian (carry the two, divide by moose) one gets 26.1 mpg. Is that an amazing, stop-the-presses, wait-’til-you-hear-this number?

No, but it’s a solidly decent figure that matches the lighter Skyactiv-3 I had, both of which vehicles were driven, um, enthusiastically. Your mileage may literally vary, but it should theoretically be possible to trade up out of a smaller hatchback into a CX-5, with little-to-no fuel penalty.

Much as the Miata is the halo car for Mazda, the CX-5 isn’t really a MX-5 with a luggage rack, as they’d probably like you to believe. Instead, it feels like the old Protege5: a modestly-powered little practical wagon that could still hustle along, snapping at the heels of a WRX on a curvy road, despite having half the horses.

This is a good vehicle, and it does a great job matching the pragmatism of the competition, while at the same time combining it with some much-needed joie de vivre. Would I buy one? Most assuredly.

With the diesel.

Mazda provided the vehicle tested and insurance.

Driving my old 993 to work at 5:30 this morning, listening to the blat of the Billy Boat exhaust competing with Corinne Bailey Rae’s sublime second album for my attention, I had a pair of random thoughts. First thought: I will never own a Ferrari, and that’s okay. This represents a sort of satori for me, because I’d always planned on buying a nice 575 or, resale and sense of aesthetics permitting, one of those awkward 612 Scags, after my all Porsches were paid off. The titles for said Porkers have been in my file cabinet for years now, but there’s no Memorandum Title for a long-nosed Italian next to them.

Second thought: I really, really, liked that CX-5 I drove two weeks ago.

Hmm.

I wonder if those two thoughts are related?

Regardless, something about the way I value and enjoy automobiles has changed. My desire to own the flashiest and sexiest whip I can (not quite) afford has been cauterized by endless exposure to “Cars and Coffee”, YouTube videos, and braying-donkey print-journos Facebook-bragging about selling their souls in exchange for temporary access to the transportation enjoyed daily by their betters. My notions of “fast” have been shattered by cars like Switzer’s thousand-horsepower GT-Rs and 997 Turbos. Fatherhood and occasional forays into performing music have given me new respect for something which can be parked on the street without concern. Racing in spec classes has led me to respect the rider, not the mount. The seemingly irrevocable decline of the American economy makes me wonder if it isn’t possible to consume a bit less and enjoy a bit more.

If the Ferrari 575 was the embodiment of my thirty-something philosophy — fast, brash, pedigreed, aggressive to a fault — then the Mazda CX-5 might just be my fortysomething philosophy embodied. It’s one of the few truly great cars I’ve driven since entering this business. How can a “cute-ute” with modest power and zero curb appeal be great?

Don’t worry, I’ll explain.

There’s a lot to be said about the CX-5′s “SKYACTIV” construction, its precise dimensions, its market positioning, and its competitive prospects. You’ll be able to find all of that in Brendan McAleer’s review, which should come out next week. If you’re in a hurry, you can always check out the short drive review I did for LeftLane here. Prior to leaving for Mazda’s CX-5 preview event, which was held at Laguna Seca, I’d been very dismissive regarding the merits of debuting a small SUV/wagon/crossover/whatever on a racetrack. I’d even considered leaving my helmet at home, since it doesn’t fit in a RegionalJet overhead compartment and I therefore find myself forced to gate-check the thing and spend my flights worrying about whether I will ever see it again. “What’s the point of bringing a helmet for three laps?” I wondered.

As it turns out, I did nearly sixty laps of Laguna Seca in the CX-5. The first three were for you, dear readers; the rest were for me. A few months ago, I asked where all the great Japanese cars had gone. Here’s one answer to that question. The CX-5 is meant to channel the spirit of the Miata in the way that Porsche claimed the Cayenne would for the 911 — but unlike the Germans, Mazda’s pulled it off. Finally, we have a modern small wagon that feels light on its feet, eager to change direction, frisky and friendly.

Truth be told, the least impressive part of the whole package is the much-ballyhooed SKYACTIV engine. It’s no better, or more characterful, than the old 2.3/25 Duratecs found in the old Focus and the outgoing Fusion, and it’s fighting a curb weight which, although it is lightest in the class, is still about a half-ton more than the iconic Japanese compacts of yore had to carry.Still, matched to the six-speed manual which comes standard on the base model, it is fast enough. It’s no trick to stroke along even the tightest California back roads at speeds in the 70-90mph range. Too much more than that, and the four can’t hang. Watching the radar speed displays at Laguna Seca was instructive; the rate of acceleration falls flat just before the magic hundred mark.

The fact that we are even discussing the CX-5′s triple-digit potential, however, is a testament to the chassis. Just like my old Porsche 944 — a vehicle with a remarkably similar power-to-weight ratio, by the way — the suspension is way ahead of the engine, and the brakes are somewhere in the middle. During the press preview, the PR people droned on about the trucklet’s spiritual ties to the RX-8. Having run an RX-8 in SCCA National Solo, I dismissed those claims out of hand, which was a mistake. This is one of the best-steering front-wheel-drivers I’ve ever experienced, and you can rest assured it stands head and shoulders above the rest of the class. The CX-5 can be finessed through fast roads by thumb and forefinger on the wheel and it never fails to inform and reassure. During the rough single-lane sections of my drive, the ground clearance was actually an advantage. I didn’t hit the bump stops a single time during the course of the drive, even though I tried to force the issue a few times by full-throttling my way through some very dicey whoops and camber changes. Something like a Subaru Outback would be left for dead by this nimble little box.

I didn’t have the time or inclination to make a finely-judged comparison of the CX-5′s dash-pad polymer composition or rear cargo-area height with that of the competition, but the overall impression given by the interior is certainly in line with the expectations one would have at the price. Inside and out, the vehicle looks solid, well-finished, and pleasant. The seats are just about up to the task of fast driving, the stereo is acceptable, and nothing fell off or rattled.

Some of LeftLane’s readers took me to task for suggesting this was an “enthusiast vehicle”. They cited the lack of power and inability to either dominate the Autobahn or pose convincingly as a dominator of same. I think they missed the point. Power and raw speed may have distinguished “enthusiast vehicles” in the past, but we live in an era where a Camry on DOT slicks can rip a thirteen-second quarter and your ex-wife’s SUV can bully the air at a buck-forty or above. Ford and Chevrolet both sell ponycars that would humiliate my old dream Ferrari 575, and they sell them brand new for half of what the Ferraris still cost on the used market. The Porsche PanArabia Turbo S Carrera GT2 Orthodontist Edition handily outpaces its own Cayman R on the racetrack. Numbers aren’t telling the story any more. In 2012, enthusiast vehicles are ones which whisper to the driver with steering feel and predictable trail-braking, not scream at him with six hundred horsepower and single-use ceramic brakes. Forget the numbers.

There is, however, one number to remember: $20,895. That’s how much the CX-5 I drove costs new at the dealer, assuming you pay full whack. It’s a complete proposition at that price. Everything you need and more. No reason to be ashamed of buying the entry-level car here. We won’t weigh your worth by the length of your model designation. After three hours in the little Mazda, I couldn’t think of a single change or additional feature that would significantly increase the enjoyment factor.

This being TTAC, I feel compelled to remind you of a few potential issues. This is a brand-new vehicle design from a manufacturer known to suffer from a bit of fragility and oxidationophilia. Your neighbors will call you reckless for not buying a CR-V. If you are one of the henpecked beta-males who make up something like forty-two percent of cute-ute buyers, making the Mazda move may result in your monthly allocation of you-know-what being slimmed-down to bi-monthly. I have no idea whether or not the CX-5 will last to 200,000 miles, and neither does anyone else.

Okay. You’ve been warned. If you haven’t been warned off, good for you. This new Mazda is something we haven’t seen in a while. It’s a great little car. Pun intended. It’s a car for us. If you’re looking in this market, consider yourself advised to look at the CX-5. Maybe you’ll get as excited about it as I did.

A mere 72 hours after I picked up my Mazda3 SKYACTIV hatchback with the 6-speed automatic transmission, Mazda informed me that they had a 6-speed manual transmission hatch available, and that I was welcome to return the automatic version in exchange for the stickshift. The next day, I dropped off the white automatic for a bright blue manual version. What a mistake.

It’s not that the manual transmission is bad. Far from it. The shift action is crisp, direct and satisfying, with an easy to operate clutch. If I were to buy this car, I would opt for it because I love driving manual. But let’s be clear; claims from other outlets that this gearbox apes the MX-5 are wishful thinking at best, hyperbole at worst. I know this because I own a Miata. It also does not measure up to the wonderful 6-speed automatic offered in this car.

Using a combination of a torque converter and clutch plates, Mazda has created a gearbox that upshifts seemlessly and downshifts with the intensity of an early Volkswagen DSG transmission. While the manual requires a slightly awkward 6-4 downshift to pass anyone on the highway, pressing firmly on the accelerator, or using the +/- manual override feature helps the Mazda3 get out of its own way much quicker.

With 155 horsepower and 148 lb-ft of torque, the SKYACTIV 2.0L 4-Cylinder puts up decent numbers for its class, but has a few unavoidable idiosyncrasies. Start-up, particularly on a cold morning is loud, with an idle approaching 2000 rpm (as shown above) as the engine heats up. Ostensibly this is done in the name of fuel economy and emissions, but dropping it in gear and driving away before the car is warmed up neutralizes this effect. Torque below 3000 rpm is tepid, but the engine itself isn’t unpleasant as it builds to its 6500 rpm redline.

The middling powerplant is redeemed by a chassis and steering that, in the words of Chuck Sheen, makes the competition look like “droopy, armless children.” The Elantra may have the lock on fuel economy and the Focus may be the most upscale, but the Mazda3 is the driver’s choice in this segment by far. Well-weighted, precise steering and a chassis that provides ample feedback are the highlights here, and even Michelin Alpin snow tires couldn’t dampen the car’s enthusiasm for highway ramps and rural backroads. The one drawback is a slightly firm ride that may surprise economy car buyers looking for A-B transportation. If you’re an automotive journalist looking for a Miata with a back seat, this is the one you want.

Anecdotal evidence suggests that a certain segment of consumers are looking for an escape from the overly tech-laden cars of today, and the Mazda3 should be their first stop. The cabin, clad largely in black hard plastic with a smattering of buttons, is so low tech that it seems to be making a Luddite fashion statement. SYNC, BlueLink, OnStar – you won’t find any of that in the Mazda3. You don’t even get a USB port here – in Canada, where the SKYACTIV comes only one way (as a mid-grade GS model, one step down from the Grand Touring trim), an iPod connector harness is a $450 option. There is an auxiliary jack (my favorite method of “infotainment connectivity”) and Bluetooth is standard, along with cruise control, A/C, heated seats (which work very well in frigid Canadian winter temperatures). Braggarts, technology whores and automotive forum junkies may not be able to yammer on about all the superfluous crap that’s available on other competitors, but I admire the Mazda3′s simplicity – some would even say purity. With that said, the interior materials are dated, if we’re being diplomatic. The flip-up plastic cover in the center console felt like it was liable to snap off at a moment’s notice, and some of the dash materials felt like they were made from polystyrene scale model bodies.

Fuel economy has always been the Mazda3′s big sticking point, and the SKYACTIV was meant to fix this issue. Mazda claims that fuel economy for the hatchback is 28/39 mpg for the automatic and 27/38 mpg for the manual. During our 4 days with the automatic, we managed 25 mpg in town (about 133 miles in total), and our manual returned 26 mpg over 342 miles, including a 115 mile highway drive. Mazda’s Canadian ratings are even higher, with Transport Canada advertising 37/55 imperial MPG (30/45 US MPG)  and touting as much as 58 mpg Imperial (48 US mpg highway) in the automatic sedan. Needless to say, we didn’t come close.

Click here to view the embedded video.

In the US, the equivalent model retails for $19,300, with the equivalent sedan about $600 less. That puts it smack around the equivalent Cruze, and Elantra, and $1,000-$2,000 less than the equivalent Focus. There are lots of good cars in the compact segment. The Ford Focus offers something for everyone. The Chevrolet Cruze and Hyundai Elantra aren’t as engaging to drive but are more “grown up” options. The Civic and Corolla are the fallback choices while the Subaru Impreza has all-wheel drive. The big problem for the SKYACTIV is that all the driving chops in the world may not be enough to overcome the goofy styling and the sub-standard (if pleasingly simple) interior. I’d buy one – but when have auto journalists ever been representative of the buying public?

Brendan McAleer previously tested the Mazda3 SKYACTIV

Picture courtesy media.mazda.ca

One of the constant dangers for your humble TTAC correspondent is drifting away from gimlet-eyed and ruthless objectivity towards developing a soft spot for a particular manufacturer. Lord forbid you should ever start becoming an “advocate”.

Should such tendencies emerge, one of our larger and hairier Senior Editors will show up on the front stoop bearing a large boat oar emblazoned with “Integrity” and begin beating you about the ears in the manner of the berserker school-master from Flann O’Brien’s An Beal Bocht. Leaving aside semi-obscure references to mid-century Irish literary satire for the moment, there’s one company for which I’d cheerfully risk the aforementioned major head trauma: Mazda.

How could you not? The homologation-special 323 GTX, the curvaceous FD RX-7, the gutsy MX-6 GT, the sharp-yet-practical Protege5, the apex-predator Mazdaspeed3, the Brit-that-don’t-break Miata; over the years, Mazda has produced a veritable pantheon of great cars, all relatively affordable, all moderately practical.

Picture courtesy media.mazda.ca

Well, the MX-6 GT was a bit crap, if I’m honest. I had one, and it was really fast and ran forever, but it also torque-steered like a helicopter with the tail-rotor shot off.

And, lest you think that I’ve entirely become Mazda’s – ahem – protégé, it’s worth noting that Mazdas appear to be plagued with rust issues that don’t seem to affect other Japanese competitors (we’re rarely afflicted with this problem in the Pacific Northwest, but it’s a common complaint among Easterners). Also the early ‘speed3 ate motor mounts like milk-duds and the RX-7′s twin-turbocharged engine couldn’t have been less stable if it was made out of nitroglycerine, anti-matter and bits of the Middle East.

So, there are occasional flaws. And with the current Mazda3, two warts immediately hove into view, and beg to be looked past.

Picture courtesy media.mazda.ca

First, the styling, about which they’ve done little with this new car. A tweaked front fascia makes the grin a little less idiotic, they’ve added blue mascara ’round the headlights, and there’s a “Skyactiv” badge out back. That’s about it.

In fact, the reason you’re looking at press shots here rather than my own ham-handed photography is that so little is changed, I plumb forgot to take pictures of the car. But everybody knows what the Mazda3 looks like already: lots of curvy styling, big goofy smile.

Who. Cares. While – based on the conservative-but-interesting looks of the CX-5 – I look forward to seeing a new, KODO-ized Mazda3, the current ’3 now blends right in to modern traffic alongside bulbous Hyundai Velosters, basking-shark Ford Focii, and bug-eyed Nissan Jukes. If the smirk really bothers you, just buy a black one.

Picture courtesy media.mazda.ca

We can also take any interior criticisms “as read”. Exactly the same, but the lighting is now light blue, the official other colour of efficiency.

Which brings us to the other wart, perhaps the larger and hairier of the two. While the ’3 has a certain verve with the 2.5L engine, it’s not particularly competitive in the economy department. Opting for the base 2.0L improves the fuel-consumption somewhat, but the power deficit is quite noticeable. What Mazda needs to stay competitive is more zoom-zoom from less fuel.

There isn’t the space here for me to fully explain the science of Skyactiv (click here to read my somewhat bumbling attempt to do so), but let me lay out the Cole’s Notes. First, it’s not a hybrid. I’ve lost count of how many people have come up to me and asked what I thought of “Mazda’s new hybrid”.

Skyactiv is not a specialty trim level, it’s the tagline for the mindset of the engineer who’s currently designing your – they hope – next Mazda: a full suite of technologies designed to improve economy and enhance driver involvement. In the case of the Mazda3, you get partial Skyactiv tech in the mid-range models free-gratis-for-nothing.

Picture courtesy media.mazda.ca

Second, if we simplify things down to a level that would have Dave Coleman gnawing on his graphing calculator, Skyactiv-G engine tech is about the controlled burn. The high-octane, premium fuel normally required in high-pressure engines (including turbo’d and supercharged applications) is less prone to spontaneously combusting than regular. Mazda gets around this requirement for high-grade gas with precise multi-point injector technology and specially dished pistons that ensure regular flame-front propagation out from the spark.

Advantage? A clean, even burn that runs leaner and gives you a bump in power. Theoretically great, but what about real-world application?

Picture courtesy media.mazda.ca

Here it is then, finally, the meat n’ potatoes of this review. Assuming you’ve read this far, you don’t care about styling commentary, you don’t care that they’ve swapped all the red interior lights for blue ones, you don’t care about high-flown hyperbole, or even how Skyactiv tech actually works. You want to know: is this ’3 any good?

Well, first the bad news. The first Skyactiv ’3 is a bit of a mongrel. It’s the same old Mazda3 chassis with an engine and transmission swap, and part of the Skyactiv-G gasoline tech has been watered down. There isn’t room underhood to fit the 4-2-1 header that allows the CX-5 to attain that sky-high 13:1 compression ratio with tuned exhaust pulses. The mill in the ’3 is therefore restricted to 12:1.

However, the six-speed automatic gearbox in this tester is fully Skyactiv (conventional but lightened with improved shift control and a greater lock-up range), and while the chassis is roughly the same as last year’s – with a slight enhancement to rigidity – there was nothing wrong with the old one. In fact, there was everything right with the old one.

And here comes the good news. This heart-transplanted ’3 is better than ever.

Picture courtesy media.mazda.ca

I was invited to the launch of the Skyactiv-equipped Mazda3 in sunny Los Angeles, but elected to wait for a locally-available tester instead. I’m glad I did, and not for some imaginary independent-can’t-be-bought-hipster-journo street-cred: I knew the ’3 would be great to drive on a Mazda-planned canyon route; I’m pleased to report that it’s also great to drive in rain-soaked, volume-snarled, suicidal-pedestrian, militant-cyclist, turn-signal-absent everyday horrible traffic. It is such a hoot.

The new automatic transmission delivers crisp, rapid shifts, and is actually fun to operate in manu-matic mode. No paddle-shifters (yet), but it’s an engaging transmission that makes a mockery of weaksauce dual-clutch systems like that found in the Focus.

The engine, while lacking the outright grunt of the 2.5L, provides considerably more poke than the somewhat dowdy 2.0L, splitting the difference between the two engines at 155hp and 148lb/ft of torque. Mazda claims the power of a 2.5L from a 2.0L, but that’s pushing it a little: there is still plenty of room for more down-low power.

Picture courtesy media.mazda.ca

Expect the full-fat, 91-octane burning 14:1 Euro-versions to have a little more panache, but if I’m going to express jealousy of the cheese-eating surrender monkeys, it’ll be for their upcoming Skyactiv-D diesel with its 300lb/ft of torque and 5300rpm redline.

But I digress, back to what we actually get. In my normal driving style, which is to careen everywhere as though pursued by a brown 450SEL with a rocket-launcher-wielding Robert DeNiro hanging out of its sunroof, the Skyactiv-G Mazda3 returned a very respectable 33mpg.

Granted, that’s about 15% off the promised 40mpg highway, but seriously, we’re talking depleted uranium Dr. Scholl’s inserts here. I beat that thing like a concrete piňata and not only did it feel like it loved every minute of it, but there was also little penalty at the pump.

Picture courtesy media.mazda.ca

Currently, this kind of fuel-economy puts the ’3 right up there amongst other – alleged – fuel sippers. Should the little Mazda fall mid-pack for operating costs in the future as others catch up, its fun-to-drive quotient should do the rest of the selling.

Of course, there’s a worry. Any time words like “high-compression” start getting tossed around, the image that immediately pops into mind is of some brightly coloured Italian exotic on the shoulder and en flambé. And while most Mazdas have a reasonably good track-record for reliability, there’s still the long shadow cast by that FD RX-7 and its, um, explosive performance.

But I’m bullish on Mazda’s new tech, and can’t wait to see it range-wide and try it in full effect in the CX-5. It’s all well and good to have interesting niche enthusiast cars like the GT 86 and the EVO-X but we need a car company that champions driving pleasure as a core value for all its models.

It’s nice to have a company like Mazda around, and I’m happy to report that their SKYACTIV technologies seem to indicate that they’ll be able to compete on both fronts: not only as the enthusiast choice, but also as a manufacturer of economically efficient daily drivers. This new Mazda3 is certainly a car I’ll be recommending next time somebody asks.

*ding-dong*

Oh hang on, someone’s at the door.

Mazda provided the vehicle tested and insurance.

Here’s an open secret: the Mazda3 is the auto-journo’s cop-out. “Hey,” inquires the prospective punter, “I’m actually kinda/sorta in the market. What do you recommend?” Nine times out of ten, the sporty little ’3 is gonna get a plug. Tenth guy wants a truck.

Now around here, obviously that’s not the case. Ask the TTAC boys what you should buy and Jack Baruth is going to punch you in the face and sleep with your wife, Sajeev Mehta will get a far-away look in his eyes thinking of all the non-running personal-luxury-coupe crap-cans he could add to his stable for the price of a new car, Bertel Schmitt’s going to give you a fascinating but interminable lecture on the nuances of some improbable menage a trois between Nissan, Geely and Fisher-Price, and me? Well, I’m new around here. Again.

Which is why I’m going to extoll me a little Zoom-Zoom.

Traditionally, the bit after the jump is where we TTAC scribes dissect the styling of whatever whip we’ve managed to con out of the press guys. Except for Jack who’d be playing a blues riff and eating a baby or something.

However, I can’t be bothered. Look, the Mazda3 has a big goofy smiley face. Who cares. Too much ink has been already shed — unnecessarily — over the “Hai Guyz!” look that Nagare bestowed upon the Mazda3′s once-handsome visage. I’ll say no more than, “I liked the old one better,” and, “But it grows on you.”

Why don’t you take a seat over there? That’s where you’ll find out that the leather-clad seats in the Mazda3 are nicely-bolstered and comfy. You’ll also note that the doors are nicely upholstered and that you can perfectly rest your arm on the armrest and still reach the well-placed shifter. Rough spots? The silver-painted plastic was already chipped on one of the inner door-handles, but that might be just from rough-handling: this ’3 has had five thousand miles of press fleet duty.

The price gap between the base model ’3 and my tester is over ten grand. Granted, that’s only in Canadian monopoly money, but you’d better believe that this particular ’3 is loaded to the gills with more bells than Blitzen and more whistles than the Anachronistic Police Constable Supply Depot.

Normally, gizmos and whatsits confound and annoy me to apoplexy: I could easily compete at a national level in Laptop Frisbee. Taking one look at the eighteen buttons festooning the ’3′s wheel, I snapped my mental suspenders, hitched up the ol’ beltline and braced myself to issue a barrage of cranky cantankerousness.

But none proved necessary. Mazda’s interpretation of “driver” seems to be, “somebody who doesn’t take their eyes off the road.” Not only is the visibility out of the ’3 excellent, once you tweak the eight-way power seat to just the right spot, but the interior layout is highly functional. Changing temperature settings or fiddling with the radio were easily accomplished with no more than a sideways glance even during the initial drive. After a week’s familiarity, it was a no-look play.

Those tasks you do need to sneak a peak for are aided and abetted by the twin binnacle layout of the dash, which prominently features a rectangular radio/HVAC display, a smallish navigation screen and, most importantly, an enormous flap where the navi’s memory card goes. That’s annoying, but can be overlooked given how nicely everything else is laid-out. While there’s a cant towards the driver, it’s still a cinch for micro-managing side passengers to use.

Another thing: setting up the bluetooth streaming audio and phone connectivity was easy. What’s more, it was easy to me, and I still haven’t figured how to tweet the kids to get off my dang lawn. Y-chromosome owners will be happy to hear that at no point were instructions needed.

If I had to pick a gee-whiz feature that I absolutely adored, it was the adaptive front lighting system. The AFS on the ’3 acts like the car is peeking around the corner for you; it’s one of those things you never knew you needed until you’ve had it. On a dark country road it makes an enormous difference, but even in light-polluted areas it’s a great feature to find on a small car.

Space-wise, the Mazda3 Sport’s hatch makes me happy. I like big sedans as much as the next Dr. Mehta, but when you’re picking a do-all small car, I can’t understand people who buy small four-doors with trunks. Coupes? Sure, that’s a fashion statement, but the ’3 actually looks better as a hatchback and you basically double the practicality quotient. If you’re interested, you can fit four unmounted 225/45/17s, a folding deckchair, a golf umbrella and a kite shaped like an osprey back there and still have room for a moderately-sized heffalump. As tested.

Pootling around town, four adults (well, three adults and me, anyway) had plenty of room. The most common comment was, “Hey, this is pretty nice!” Sounds like faint praise, but that was out of the mouth of a 5-series owner.

Speaking of which, “pootling” is a relative term. Like the bimmer, the Mazda3 is a practical car that’s built by a company that might make the odd styling misstep, but knows a thing or two about vim and zip and verve and oh fine I’ll just say it: zoom-zoom.

With a torquey four-pot providing 167 horsepowers though a six-speed transmission, the ’3 is all too happy to giddy-up in city traffic. You think its grin looks stupid? Check yourself out in the rearview.

The 2.5L mill might not offer the max output of a Civic Si or Scion tC’s similarly-sized engine offerings, but it has a nice grunty quality down low, particularly in second gear. It’s happy to rev, and the twin-pipes out the back provide a decent soundtrack, but it’s also very easy to access the power from low rpms, making the stop-and-go cut-and-thrust.

Show the 3 some proper corners, and sure there’s a hint of the usual Fail-Wheel-Drive understeer, but it only shows up on slick wet pavement. In which case, slow down, you friggin’ maniac! In the dry, it’s a delight. Let’s pretend they made the 3-series in a four-cylinder front-driver. Yep, that good.

Back on the highway, that grunt makes for decent economy. Stick the nicely-weighted – but perhaps a jot too long-throw – shifter into the highest gear you can manage and watch the average MPG recover from backroads shenanigans. The old 2.3L was always a bit of a pig; a friend’s ’07 returns fuel economy levels not dissimilar from my godawfully thirsty WRX. The 2.5L is much better, averaging out to be solidly in the mid-twenties.

So this is it, my recommendation to you, the semi-drunken personage who buttonholes me at parties and slurs out, “Sssso whatchathink I should get?” A taxi. And a breathmint.

After that, the Mazda3. It’s practical, it’s fun to drive, it’s comfortable, it can be got with plenty of bells and whistles for such a small car, and while it’s usually more expensive than the industry average, they absolutely hold their value better than big-sister ’6. Mazda usually has Ford-ish sales promotions on too, so hey, it’s even almost-sorta cheap. What more do you want?

On the other hand, if you’re after more than just an off-the-cuff answer, if you want me to give your query my full attention and bring all my (in)considerable mental acuity to bear on the sticky problem of what the best car is going to be for you? Well then, that’s easy. Just go talk to Michael Karesh and buy whatever he says is good.

Mazda provided the vehicle and insurance for this review.

Wait a minute. I’m a lunatic!


Luckily, for those of us who’ve brained our damage, there’s the Mazdaspeed3, and my goodness but doesn’t it look like it’s just escaped from a loonie-bin for mentally imbalanced fish? I liked the old Mazdaspeed3 quite a bit simply because, apart from the bulging hood and over-sized exhaust pipe, there weren’t many clues to its riotous performance. In short: it was a bit of a sleeper.

The redesigned model is not a sleeper. It yells. It’s so far from subtle, I wouldn’t be surprised to see Lady Gaga wearing one as a hat in her next music video.

To the already controversial Nagare style treatment of the Mazda3 hatch have been added the hot-hatch garnishes of +1 wheel size and big spoiler: these are the usual cheddar and bacon which transform humdrum hamburgers into artery-clogging eats par excellence.

Unfortunately, they’ve also grafted on a – admittedly functional – hoodscoop. This sort of thing is akin to the slice of beetroot that Australians insist on putting on their burgers. It’s fine for rough-and-tumble Outback types (i.e. Subaru), but a Mazda with a hoodscoop is just plain weird.

And don’t get me started on that lower grille treatment. Is it meant to resemble gills? Am I supposed to shave with it? Either way, it’s all very shouty; this car might as well have an all-caps “TURBOOO” down the side in six-foot-high mid-90s pastel lettering.

Thing are equally juvenile in the interior, where Mr. Diesel and Mr. Walker have apparently been filming a Coke Zero commercial. Red stitching on black leather is one thing, little red-and-black bubbles and swirls on the dashboard trim, door insets and seat cushions is another. Still, once you’re sitting on the seats, you won’t have to look at them.

With regard to the interior instrumentation and layout, it’s a Mazda3 hatch: everything that works in the regular car works here, and it’s all very nicely laid-out and simple to use. One caveat, there appears to be a small commemorative stamp celebrating cartography or something stuck to the upper instrument binnacle. Oh hang on, that’s the navigation system.

Still, it’s usable and Mazda bundles the Navi together with their excellent adaptive front lighting system and a thundering BOSE stereo. All this technology does end up turning the steering wheel into a typewriter (18 buttons!), but after just a few days I could find everything I needed without taking my eyes off the road. Which was good.

Two hundred and eighty foot-pounds of torque at just 3000 rpm. That’s a whole lotta cowbell. In a recent review of the Mazda2, I likened that car’s leisurely attitude to acceleration to that of a small dog leashed to a fat person. The Mazdaspeed3 is… quite different.

Forget Jinba Ittai. Driving this car is like taking a Rottweiler the size of a Clydesdale for a walk. There’s a lot of power (263 hp) and, hey, you’re in charge of it right? Well, sort of.

At some point, you’re going to want to tickle the loud pedal, and at that point the Mazdaspeed3 is going to shout, “Squirrel!” and shoot forward in any number of directions, taking your arm with it. To combat this tendency, Mazda’s engineers have fitted a choke chain: boost is limited in the first three gears dependent on steering angle, and there’s a torque-sensing limited slip diff. Has it worked? Have they tamed the torque steer?

Nnnnnnnnnnno.

Now if you’ve read up to this point, you may be thinking that I didn’t like this car. You may be postulating, “So, you’re saying it’s ugly and a bit crude and kind of a spaz when it comes to putting the power down. Why should I buy this thing again?” Well, I’ll tell you: the Mazdaspeed3 is worth every red cent because it’s capital-F, capital-U, capital-N, double underline, two stripes of highlighter, sprinkle it with glitter: FUN.

Never mind tenths of a second at the Nerd-burgring, never mind 0-60 times and skidpad g’s and all the other quantitative nonsense we use to determine which car is best. The Mazdaspeed3 is a great car because the first time I gave it the beans it elicited from me a raucous bark of laughter. Yes, the ‘Speed3 might better suit a straight-jacket than a car-cover, but I couldn’t wait to get out and drive it.

The ‘Speed3 grips like a cat on a curtain and shakes a tail feather on throttle lift-off. It surges forward with sudden great big gobs of torque and in third gear you can pass anything up to and including tachyons.

From that point on it was a constant mission to find excuses to take the ‘Speed3 out on any number of chores. I would nip down to the grocery store to buy milk and return home with cheese instead, just so I could be sent back by a tutting wife. I called long-lost out-of-town friends to arrange visits that would let me bomb down the twisting highways. I even volunteered to go to IKEA.

At no point did my untamed steed do less than plaster a big stupid grin on my face every time. From twin exhaust pipes, it sounded its barbaric yawp across the twining network of blacktop as lesser econoboxes huddled together like clumps of frightened beige sheep.

Yes, the WRX is a more surefooted companion, and yes, the Mitsubishi Lancer Ralliart is a compelling alternative to the ‘Speed3 in driving dynamics and in the looks department as well. But when we finally run out of oil, and you grow up to drive a nice sensible electric mid-size sedan, this is the one hot hatchback that your kids will be asking if you had the chance to drive.

There’s been much chat about the future of Mazda and whether or not their focus on driving pleasure will survive ever-more stringent fuel economy regulations. If we’re lucky, Mazda will still be building a car with as much character as this in the future.

Hell, of course we’re lucky: they’re building it right now.

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

The Sea-to-Sky highway in British Columbia, Canada, carves a winding route from the gorgeous – and occasionally riotous – city of Vancouver to the world-class ski resort of Whistler. Its looping curves were rebuilt to make it a high-speed corridor for tourists and athletes during the last Winter Olympics, and as a result, it’s probably one of the top five roads in this country. Mind you, it’s also a favourite hang-out for the local constabulary.

So here I am then, at the wheel of a priceless prototype, sitting on the wrong side of the car next to an emeritus journalist, on a blind on-ramp to one of the most highly-patrolled roads in Canada. What’s called for here is a little decorum, a careful merge, some light throttle application, a few gentle gear-changes and so on. Anything else would be at-worst dangerous and at-best unseemly.

By a curious co-incidence, “unseemly” is my middle name. So I floor it.

But first, a little background on the rare beast to which I have been (somewhat irresponsibly) handed the reins. Essentially a Mazda6 in guise, this prototype boasts all four of Mazda’s SKYACTIV technologies: chassis, suspension, transmission and twin-turbo diesel engine.

More on that mill later, but the important thing to note is that this is a true full-SKYACTIV vehicle. When the next-gen Mazda3 drops later this year, the mid-level trim will be sporting SKYACTIV transmissions and the new gas engine, but it will be a full year before the first vehicle – the CX-5 – arrives with a full complement of Mazda’s new tech. Additionally, it’s going to take even longer for North Americans to have access to a manual-transmission diesel mid-size sedan that doesn’t have a German-Mexican accent.

So this Mazda6 is something quite special. It’s also a bit of a hack-job.

Nagare styling doesn’t work range-wide for Mazda, but the ’6 was always quite a handsome car. Here though it’s been chopped apart and pop-riveted back together, and somebody’s painted its ears yellow. Obviously, these aren’t styling cues that have any shot at making it into production, but they’re worth mentioning to give an idea of how unique the car is. It also looks great, in a dystopian-future kinda way.

Dr. Frankenstein has been at work in the interior too. Exposed screws. Deactivated airbags. There appears to be an inner-tube wrapped around the steering column. The horn is a button marked “horn” and the turn signals don’t self-cancel.

It’s quite a lot for the mind to process: the last time I was in a car this duct-taped together, it was a Ford Escort GT I’d bought for a hundred-and-fifty bucks. That car should have sucked, but funnily enough, it had a Mazda BP power-plant, and what with the chopped coils and zero-interior treatment, it felt incredibly raw and interesting to drive.

Mazda’s probably going to be extremely annoyed I’m comparing their prototype to a hunk of early-90′s Ford flotsam, but it’s important for everyone to be on the same page here. This car boasts no new fancy touch-screens or intelligent voice-activated massaging seats. This is an engineering pin-up; this is an enthusiast-minded company showing us how they’re trying to keep building driver’s cars in an increasingly technology- and efficiency-obsessed market.

Back on the on-ramp, the SKYACTIV mule responds with a kick like a – er – mule. The first of the sequential turbos is a tiny hairdryer that you could spool with a sneeze. Peak torque of 310 lb/ft comes at a low 2000 rpm, but it was already cresting into the 200s at a little over half the revs.

But so what? Diesels have always been about low-range grunt: high-gear highway pulls sans downshifting make driving easy, but lack the fun-factor of a gas engine. Or rather, that’s usually the case.

Here though, the low-compression SKYACTIV-D pulls a neat trick: revs to match the shove. A 5200rpm ceiling would be laughable in a gasoline engine, but in a diesel it’s excellent. There’s no need to ping it off the rev-limiter, but the Mazda’s diesel is flexible and revs up surprisingly quickly, and that big secondary turbo doesn’t appear to lose steam until the very upper reaches.

That and a six-speed manual transmission make this car fun. Lots of fun. I forgot to look at the taped-in speedometer when we hit the bottom of the on-ramp, but we were clipping along very nicely.

Hitting the well-cambered curves of the Sea-to-Sky at speed also shows off the ’6s chassis and steering refinements. Rigidity and weight-loss are welcome but incremental; the real progress has been made with the way the steering feel is enhanced by a significantly quickened ratio and an aggressive amount of caster for a front-driver. It’s not quite Miata (sorry: MX-5) territory yet, but the DNA is there.

There was apparently a little Lost In Translation confusion when journos came back from driving the SKYACTIV-D mule. “I don’t need to drive anything else today!” can be interpreted more than one way, and it caused quite the consternation when overheard by Mazda’s Japanese engineers.

I’ll try to be more clear. This isn’t a real car you can buy yet, but depending on what the fuel figures look like, it’s going to be a great one. If they bring their SKYACTIV-D technology to the North American market, Mazda has a real opportunity to eat Volkswagen’s lunch.

Once issued a challenge to write a novel in just six words, Ernest Hemingway famously produced, “For sale: baby shoes, never used.” Well that’s a bit depressing. No wonder he shot himself. It’s rumoured that Hemingway considered this snippet his best work. Get ready to eat your heart out Papa Bear, ’cause I can sum up the Mazda2 in one syllable: “Wheeee!”

Eh? Hmm, seems that’s not good enough for our Editor. But wait, there’s more!

Mazda’s current design language has taken a bit of stick for transforming the once-handsome ’3 into a grinning buffoon that ought to be available in a rich purple colour called “Why So Serious?” Just as it’s being shown the door, here comes a car that Nagare seems to fit: this little hatch is cute and it works.

Particularly in green, the Mazda2 resembles some kind of anime aphid. Not surprisingly, at least to me, this iridescent-beetle shade of paint is far and away the best-selling, no doubt for its stand-out qualities and sense of fun. The swooping lines and – for such a small car – relatively large wheels add a dollop of go-fast appeal. The smirking grille seems to be snickering at its cousin, the gawp-mouthed Fiesta. No wonder: at just 2306 pounds, the ’2 is nearly ten percent lighter than the Ford.
Step inside though and fun time is over. The interior of the Mazda2 is about as playful as a textbook on tax law and as austere as a Calvinist’s underpants drawer. No armrest, dour switchgear, swathes of black plastic: it’s like a Rubbermaid funeral parlour.

There’s also a bit of cheapness. Painted metal peeps through the incompletely-covered back hatch and, this being the sporty GX (Touring) model, there’s some red seat-piping that appears to have been appropriated off a ski-jacket from Hot Tub Time Machine. The rough plastic seams in the door panels look like Mazda is pre-empting the inevitable cheap BYD knock-off.

Still, everything’s where it should be. The driving position feels like it was set up for, well, driving. Forward visibility is good with little of the A-pillar blind-spots that are the plague of the segment; ditto for shoulder-checking. The gear-shift is console-mounted which won’t overjoy every driver but in the time-honoured hackneyed phraseology of Tom McCahill, it “falls easily to hand”. The centre-stack’s simple layout means you need not hunt for buttons to quickly flick the radio station while keeping your eyes on the road.

Again, this being the highline GX (Touring) model, there are several extras as-standard including automatic headlights, rain-sensing wipers and redundant controls on the steering wheel. In an increasingly well-equipped and competitive segment, the lack of Bluetooth handsfree is a strong box to leave unchecked, but frankly, I feel the ’2 would better suit an even more basic model as all the safety equipment and most of the power group is standard anyway.

We’ve moved recently, so the Mazda2 was put through its haulage paces with frequent trips to IKEA and the like. Admittedly, it’s no Honda Fit, but the space was adequate enough for lamps and tables and chairs. Rear seat space is not going to be extra-comfy for adult passengers as it would in a Versa. Mind you, you’re not going to want to load this car up with people or heavy stuff anyway.

And here’s why: the Mazda2 accelerates like a small dog attached to a fat person by one of those retractable leads. With only 100hp on tap and peak torque coming in at lofty 4000 rpm, the ’2 was never going to be a barn burner. Still, as the hatch buzzes energetically off the line in first gear, you can’t help thinking, “Well, it is pretty light…” And then you shift into second and fall into a power vacuum from which even the most energetic flooring provides only a molasses-slow escape.

However, once the yappy terrier finally overcomes the initial inertia of Obesity McButterpants, you discover that there’s a simple solution to the limited motivating power of the 1.5L. Flog the absolute bejesus out of the thing.

Here then, the Mazda2 transforms into the proverbial Great Little Car. The steering is so quick, light and responsive that even though the 100hp under your foot is a bit asthmatic from a dead stop, the ’2 is all too eager to ‘scuse-me-pardon-me its way through lumbering traffic like a meerkat jumping the queue for the Ark. You may be the least powerful thing on the road but suddenly, everyone is In Your Way.

It’s weird, but this bonkers freneticism extends even to the highway, where you’d think the Mazda2′s feeble powerplant and vulnerability to crosswinds would be insurmountable obstacles to pleasant motoring. Not a bit of it. At one point I found myself blazing along in the wake of a BMW M6, a car with five times the horsepower of the little green hatch. Was the big Bimmer’s pilot in command of a car that could flick me into the weeds with the tiniest of teutonic shrugs? Undoubtedly. Was he more engaged with his car than I was? The jury remains out.

And another thing, the whole “light as a feather, stiff as a board” crashy ride of small cars seems to have been given the slip by Mazda’s engineers. The ’2 can be a little unhappy over washboard situations and it does tend to pogo about with harsh steering and braking inputs (harsh throttle inputs? Don’t be silly), but it’s quite smooth overall.
So it’s cheap and cheerful and kinda slow, but still excellent fun to thrash. The Mazda rep I spoke to seemed a bit bemused about the car’s success; it’s selling at effectively twice the rate they had apparently expected. Obviously those searching for more comfort and power are going to look very hard at a Fiesta. Those wanting sheer passenger volume would do well to peruse a Versa catalogue and the mountain-bike crowd needs to pop in to see Honda.

But for the enthusiast with the project RX-7 that’s constantly in pieces, a Mazda2 is worth a good hard look as a daily driver. Whether its handling superiority is going to outweigh the power shortfall is going to be decided on a case-by-case basis. I’ll say this though: if they manage to bump power output by ten to fifteen percent (SKYACTIV-G?) it’ll be a no-brainer.

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

In the United States, unlike elsewhere in the world, there aren’t many choices for those who need seating for more than five people but who don’t want to give up the maneuverability of a compact car. Kia gave the segment a go, but withdrew the Rondo from the U.S. market a couple of years ago. Chevrolet has opted to not even test the waters with the Orlando. So Mazda currently has the segment to itself. But the Ford C-Max arrives in less than a year. Does the revised 2012 Mazda5 have what it takes to fend off the challenger?

The revised Mazda5 retains its 9/10-scale minivan shape and dimensions, but the previously clean, simple surfacing is gone. A more bulbous nose sports a big grin and fender arches similar to those on the related Mazda3 sedan and hatchback. The sides now have waves stamped into them, the first (and possibly also the last) production embodiment of Mazda’s “Nagare” design language. These waves flow along the tracks for the sliding doors into taillights that are now horizontal and conventionally located rather than vertical and located in the D-pillars. Blacked-out glass resides in the taillights’ former location. To my eye the previous Mazda5 and the C-Max are both more attractive, but the 2012 Mazda5′s exterior styling is gutsier and certainly the most likely to get noticed.

The revised Mazda5 also includes a more highly styled interior, though with more restraint than in the current Mazda3. This is partly a good thing: only the hood over the instruments, which rises to form a point, seems overdone. The instruments’ nacelles shield them from glare, so this hood isn’t only pointlessly pointy—it’s also unnecessary. One appealing upscale detail: red piping and stitching on the Grand Touring’s black leather seats. But the eye of a designer remains needed elsewhere. The door panels remain too flat and too plain and the center console looks like a cheap aftermarket accessory rather than a factory part. Some hard black plastic manages to not look cheap, but not the stuff that covers much of the 2012 Mazda5’s interior. On the whole, the C-Max’s interior is more attractive and better appointed, if perhaps overly styled [Ed: see images in gallery to judge for yourself].

In terms of functionality, the Mazda5 wins back some points—with one major exception. Both vehicles have sliding doors, so no need to worry about the kids dinging neighboring cars in parking lots. Power openers aren’t available, but the doors open and close so easily that these are hardly necessary. From the driver’s seat both seem more like a car than a crossover, but the Mazda’s driving position is better than the C-Max’s, with a more open view over a less imposing instrument panel. The front seats are comfortable in both vehicles, though the Mazda’s are better bolstered. The Mazda’s second-row buckets would be almost as comfortable as those up front if they weren’t a little too low to the floor. The Ford’s are flatter and have unusually low seatbacks—their headrests must be raised about a foot for adult use.

The third-row seats in both microvans are tiny and very low to the floor. In the Mazda, adults up to about 5’10” will fit in a literal pinch, knees against the second-row seatback and head brushing the headliner. Some knee room can be opened up by shifting the second-row seats forward an inch or two, and there is enough room to do this—Mazda claims 39.4 inches of second-row legroom, magically up 4.2 inches from the seemingly similar 2010 and nearly as much as in the first row. The Ford’s third row is even more rudimentary, to the point where Ford is billing it as a 5+2-seater rather than a 7-seater. The difference is just an inch or two, but when you’re near the minimum an extra inch or two can mean the difference between people fitting and not fitting. Pre-teen kids? They’ll fit fine in either.

In the Mazda, rear ventilation is handled a two-speed fan blowing through vents in the rear face of the center console. The air through these vents isn’t as cold as that through the front vents, and the location is less effective than a complete rear HVAC system with vents in the ceiling, but it’s better than nothing.

In the Mazda, there’s just enough space behind the third row to fit a single row of grocery bags. In the Ford, there’s less cargo volume (the specs claim only three cubic feet, vs. 11.3 in the Mazda) and the load floor is higher. Grocery bags will have to be turned to run across the width of the vehicle, so only about half as many will fit. In both vehicles the headrests must be lowered before folding the seats—this doesn’t happen automatically. In neither does the front passenger seat fold to extend cargo space all the way to the instrument panel. While this would have been a useful feature, the way the second row seats fold precludes it.

So, you’re more likely to be able to put kids in both rows AND make a grocery run in the Mazda. But hit the road for a trip and the third seat will have to be folded to make way for luggage in either. Here the C-Max has an advantage for families with three kids. Tucked within the right second-row bucket is a center seat, so it’s possible to seat three kids in the second row. Mazda offers a similar seat in the Mazda5 overseas, but in the United States there’s only a fold-out tray table. So if you want to seat seven people sometimes and five plus luggage at others, the C-Max is the only option.

I have not yet driven the C-Max, but I have driven the 2012 Focus on which it is based. Even if the C-Max drives as well as the Focus, and the microvan’s additional weight and height will likely take their toll, the Mazda5 has some clear driving advantages.

Both microvans are powered by 2.5-liter four-cylinder engines, good for 157 horsepower in the Mazda and 168 in the C-Max. (A 168-horsepower turbocharged 1.6-liter four will also be offered as a more efficient option in the Ford.) Torque differs less, 163 vs. 167 foot-pounds. The Ford’s power advantage should more than be canceled out by its additional curb weight, 3,743 vs. 3,457 pounds. Though the Mazda5’s power-to-weight ratio isn’t promising, around town its acceleration is easily adequate with the five-speed automatic. It helps that the automatic almost always selects the appropriate gear. It’s possible to manually shift the transmission, but this is rarely necessary, even in spirited driving. A six-speed manual is available only in the Mazda, if only in its base trim. When it’s time to stop, the Mazda’s brakes feel reassuringly firm and linear.

The Mazda’s trip computer reported low twenties in suburban driving and high twenties on the highway—cracking 30 requires a healthy tail wind. The EPA reports 21 city, 28 highway. The new Honda Odyssey, a much larger vehicle, matches the latter figure. In Mazda’s defense, it does have a new family of much more efficient engines on the way. The C-Max will likely do about the same with its base engine, a sixth gear in its conventional automatic compensating for its additional mass, while Ford is aiming for 30 on the highway with the turbo.

The Mazda carves out its largest advantage when the road curves. Feedback through its steering and the seat of one’s pants is just about as good as in the Mazda3, and so quite a bit better than in the great majority of cars sold today, including the 2012 Ford Focus. You can distinctly feel the front tires carving their line. The Mazda5 similarly feels more agile and responsive than most compact hatches despite its roughly 3,500-pound curb weight. Lean and body motions are well-controlled, and precisely placing the vehicle quickly becomes second nature. Of the three-row vehicles offered in the U.S., it’s easily the most engaging and most fun-to-drive on a twisty road. At 70+ on the highway, though, the steering can feel twitchy and the tall bodysides are sensitive to crosswinds–the Mazda5 is more in its element at lower speeds. The ride is firm and at times a touch busy, but still generally comfortable. Noise levels are moderate.

Judging from the Focus, the C-Max will feel larger, heavier, and less agile. It will likely handle well, but won’t be nearly as engaging or as fun. On the other hand, it will probably ride more quietly and cushily than the Mazda.

It’s too soon to discuss reliability for either 2012. But the first generation Mazda5 suffered from quite a few suspension problems, based on responses to TrueDelta’s Car Reliability Survey. Perhaps parts based on those for the Mazda3 were not sufficiently upgraded to handle the 5’s extra pounds? Rust is also a common problem with Mazda’s where the roads are salted, and the Mazda5 has been no exception.

The Mazda5’s pricing is up about $900 with the redesign, but remains low for a three-row vehicle. The base trim lists for $19,990, while the leather-trimmed Grand Touring lists for $24,670. A Honda Odyssey EX-L is over $7,000 more even after a $3,000 adjustment for its additional features (using car price comparison tool). Compact SUVs with third row seats are closer in price, but still quite a big higher. The least expensive of these, the Mitsubishi Outlander SE, lists for about $1,000 more, while the Toyota RAV4 is about $2,800 higher before adjusting for feature differences and about $4,100 higher afterwards (chiefly because leather isn’t available with the optional third row). The real competitor will of course be the C-Max. Pricing hasn’t been announced, but judging from that of the related Focus it should be within $500 of the Mazda5’s.

Both the Mazda5 and (soon) the Ford C-Max provide viable solutions for people who need three rows of seating, but who don’t want the bulk (and higher price) that usually comes with them. The Ford has less controversial styling, higher grade materials, and (probably) a smoother, quieter ride. Families with three kids will also appreciate the stowable seventh seat. The Mazda includes a little more room for rear seat passengers and cargo and should retain its title as the best handling three-row people hauler. It’s also the only such vehicle still offered with a manual transmission in the U.S. So while the C-Max will be more likely to win over mainstream car buyers, the Mazda5 should remain the choice for enthusiasts.

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

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

With the 2007 model year introduction of the CX-7, Mazda arrived late to the compact crossover party. And when you arrive late, you’d better bring something special. To this end, the CX-7 combined swoopy styling and a standard turbocharged engine, making it arguably the sportiest offering in the segment. After an initial burst, during which everyone who really wanted one bought one, sales have been modest. In a bid to broaden the CX-7s appeal, Mazda added a non-turbocharged four as part of a 2010 refresh. But if you take away one of the few things that made the CX-7 special, is there any reason to buy one?

The CX-7’s styling remains much the same after last year’s refresh. The crossover’s nose is a little more blunt than earlier, with a new band of chrome along the upper edge of the lower grille to take it a quarter-notch upscale. But the fender bulges, steeply raked windshield, and basically ovoid shape remain the same. People who liked the look of the CX-7 before will still like it. And those who didn’t still won’t. The i Sport’s 215/70HR17 tires appear lost within wheel openings sized for low-profile 19s, and do the CX-7 no aesthetic favors. Low profile tires have become so common, it’s almost hard to believe 70s are still around.

Why such unsporting tires on the i Sport? Well, within Mazda’s current naming scheme, which rivals BMW’s in its capacity to confound, “Sport” means one step up from the SV, with the latter much more prevalent in dealer ads than on dealer lots. So “Sport” essentially means “base.”

Inside, the CX-7’s styling has been refined, with minor tweaks to the trim, but you’ll probably have to compare before and after photographs to spot the differences. For example: the bands of chrome that outline the sides of the center stack no longer connect at the bottom to form a U, and have been joined by additional bands of trim in gunmetal blue. This interior remains more attractive and interesting to look at than the segment norm, but with all manufacturers focusing more and more on design the gap has been closing.

The largest change: the dash now humps up a bit over the top of the center stack to open up space for a pair of small, four-inch LCD screens. One of these houses the optional rearview camera display and, in the Grand Touring, the navigation display. Compared to the 2007-2009’s seven-inch display it’s much smaller, especially when you factor in that it’s also farther away, but located closer to the driver’s sightlines. And no doubt cheaper, though how expensive is a seven-inch LCD these days? The original display in the new location would be much better than either thus far offered alternative.

The large, steeply raked windshield and the windowlettes that flank it make for a driving position that’s more minivan than SUV. The seats front and rear are firm and fairly comfortable. There’s more shoulder room than in other compact crossovers, such that the CX-7 feels almost mid-sized from the driver’s seat. But paradoxically there’s less legroom than in the average compact crossover. Still enough for the average adult, but the Honda CR-V and Toyota RAV4 surprise (and delight?) in this area. Cargo volume is similarly compromised by the ovoid shape yet still adequate.

Compared to the competition, the CX-7’s 2.5-liter four is down about twenty horsepower (161 at the 6,000 rpm peak), and it must accelerate about one hundred additional pounds (3,496). In practice, even with a five-speed automatic (the RAV4 benefits from an additional cog) acceleration is thoroughly adequate, if a bit buzzy at low rpm. Fuel economy is about 21 in typical suburban driving, though as high as 26 along one casual stretch. For those who desire more of a rush (at the expense of fuel economy) the 244-horsepower boosted four remains available, and mandatory with all-wheel-drive. Honda and Toyota offer all-wheel-drive with the normally-aspirated fours in the CR-V and RAV4. The 2.5 performs well enough in the CX-7 that I wonder why Mazda doesn’t do the same.

I was underwhelmed by the Mazda CX-7’s handling when I first drove it about four years ago. The exterior styling promised considerably more entertainment than the chassis could deliver. Adding tires with tall, ride-oriented sidewalls does not help. So equipped, and further saddled with slow steering, the CX-7 feels large and soft. Ride quality is generally good, though some roads unsettle the chassis. Overall, this is the rare Mazda that trails its competition in terms of driving enjoyment.

With the $1,750 Convenience Package (sunroof, rearview monitor, automatic climate control, power driver seat), the 2011 Mazda CX-7 i Sport lists for $25,340. A little pricey compared to a similarly equipped car—a Mazda3 s costs over $2,000 less while being more economical and orders of magnitude more fun to drive—but within a few hundred dollars of the CR-V and RAV4. Based on responses to TrueDelta’s Car Reliability Survey, the CX-7 got off to a rocky start back in 2007, but has since improved to average for both the 2007 and 2008 model years. (Much lower sales in recent model years have resulted in insufficient sample sizes.) Many of the earlier problems involved the turbocharged four. With the non-turbo 2.5-liter engine the CX-7 should be reliable.

For decades Mazda has struggled to survive, periodically aspiring to become a first-tier auto maker but each time falling short. Their successes have followed from emphasizing the fun-to-drive qualities of much of their cars. But the enthusiast market just isn’t large enough, especially not in the compact crossover segment. Problem is, remove the turbocharged four from the CX-7, and what little excitement the CX-7 offered along with it, and there’s no compelling reason to buy a CX-7 instead of a CR-V or RAV4 unless you really like how it looks. And if you care about how it looks, you’re going to want to replace those 17s.

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

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

As they say in Hebrew, im ta’am v’rai’ach ain l’hit’vakai’ach, with matters of taste you can’t argue, and in general I agree with Jack Baruth’s principle that folks who know nothing about design shouldn’t say much beyond “like it” or “don’t like it”. Still, it’s impossible to review current Mazdas without at least mentioning their, ahem, cheerful styling. And after spending a week with the Mazda 3 S Grand Touring five door (hereafter, the M3SGT), I’m afraid to say that styling was the major drawback. Of course, that also means that everything else about the MS3GT was pretty darn good.

I’ve never gone to design school nor would I call myself an artist or designer, at least compared to the folks who draw cars for a living, but my day gig is running a small custom embroidery shop so I actually work with design. I hate to be shallow and generally put styling below other factors when evaluating cars, but Mazda’s goofy yet almost sinister grin is just too much for me. I happened to like elements of Mazda’s current Nagare styling language and think that Franz von Holzhausen’s Furai concept was spectacular, but I just can’t countenance, if you will, former Mazda design chief Laurens van den Acker’s grinning front ends. It brings to mind the classic Gahan Wilson cartoon of a doctor recoiling in horror from a patient whose body is covered in smiley faces.

Aesthetics aside though, the styling does provide very good visibility. The M3SGT was a bit of a relief, having just driven the Honda CR-Z that has huge blind spots. Its A pillars are wide, per the current fashion, but that’s the price of air bag safety. The hood falls away fairly sharply but you have a good idea where the corners are, and other than the pillars, forward and side visibility is fine. Rear visibility is good, in part thanks to the unusually shaped C pillars. The front doors also open very wide, almost 90 degrees, and ingress and egress are easily accomplished.

The leather trimmed front seats, eight way power on the driver’s side on this fully loaded tester (MSRP $25,530), are comfortable, though I didn’t feel as cosseted as I did in the Mazda 6 (also in S Grand Touring trim). I was surprised at a lack of a lumbar support adjustment, though my chronically bad back didn’t really notice. There’s plenty of room in the back seat, but then I have short legs so I almost always have plenty of room. With the rear seats folded, the 3′s flat cargo surface and low loading deck win practicality points for the hatchback bodystyle.

The dashboard is laid out nicely, with two round binnacles holding the tachometer and speedometer right in front of the driver, easily visible through the steering wheel. The leather wrapped and cross stitched steering wheel is smallish, with duplicated audio, and nav controls, plus the usual cruise control and info display switches. In between the speedo and tach is a small liquid crystal display with fuel and odometer info. An auxiliary IP sits above the main gauges and towards the center of the dashboard. That second panel includes a liquid crystal info display for the climate control and audio, plus a 3″X4″ color LCD screen for the nav system. The nav screen can be switched to display trip computer data and audio system info. Some may find the nav screen too small but I found it less distracting than a larger center stack screen. I also like how it’s right below the windshield so you don’t have to take your eyes far from the road to check it.

Though the texture and colors of the panels are the same, the door panels use a hard plastic while the dash has a softer touch. Everything you actually touch when operating the car feels nice, and the switchgear gives an especially good impression of quality, with a solid, tactile feel. The clutch is perfect, with a very smooth takeup. The shifter is very good, though I’d prefer shorter throws. The shifter is spring loaded to naturally line up in the 3-4 slot, with heavier pressure needed to get into 5-6 than 1-2. This seems logical and I only had trouble finding first a couple of times.

Overall, the interior ergonomics are fine. I like the big central tuning button on the sound system. Everything was within reach and all the controls that I needed to use were intuitive enough that I didn’t have to RTFM (unless I wanted to).

This M3SGT came with dual zone automatic climate control that worked just fine. While no ACC can get a car as cold enough or as hot enough fast enough for me, once a comfortable temp was reached, the ACC worked almost imperceptibly. If you want fresh air or sunshine, there’s a factory two-way glass sun roof.

In terms of driving dynamics, as expected from Mazda, the M3SGT is a proper driver’s car. The 2.5L 167 HP four cyl engine pulls strongly and begs for revs; if I wasn’t paying attention to the tach, I easily hit the rev limiter in first and sometimes even second gear. You can chirp the tires in first without really trying and there’s more than enough power for any real world driving. Actually, on wet roads I thought the Dynamic Stability Control kicks in a little early but that’s largely due to the ease with which you can break the front tires loose.

The combination of a good power to weight ratio, a smooth clutch and a six speed transmission gives the driver a number of shifting options, including 1-3-5 and 2-4-6 shifts. If you want to hypermile, there’s almost always a higher gear available for you, and unlike the CR-Z,  you don’t have to downshift to fourth when you need to pass on the highway. The M3SGT pulls very strongly from 60 in 5th gear and unless it’s an emergency, you shouldn’t even have to downshift from 6th to pass on the interstates. Though the dual exhausts sound sporty around town, out on the highway the M2SGT is quiet and composed, turning a comfortable 3,250 RPM at 80MPH. The Grand Touring tag implies that it’s suitable for long distance drives and at freeway speeds the Mazda3 S GT feels perfectly at home, about as comfortable a ride as you could expect in a car of this size. Gas mileage was 26-27mpg over about 400 miles of mixed urban and suburban driving. With the cruise control set to 70mph on a flat road, instantaneous gas mileage readout showed 37mpg (YMMV).

The handling is, again, as would be expected from Mazda, tuned towards the enthusiast end of the spectrum. There’s the slight understeer you’re going to get with FWD but minimal body roll, and while the steering is not quite as quick as on the Honda CR-Z, it has substantially more feel than the Honda sport hybrid. On the Honda, that lack of feel combined with otherwise good steering was disconcerting. On the Mazda, there is a balance between feel, grip and precision that brings a smile to the face just about every time you drive it. The steering is perfectly weighted, with just the right touch of resistance. I noticed, while taking some photos underhood, that the M3SGT has braces on the front strut towers that bolt to the cowl. I don’t know if they are standard on all Mazda3s or just the sportier ones, but they certainly don’t hurt the car’s handling.

The ride isn’t bad for a compact car tuned to handle. Riding around urban and suburban Detroit with its potholes and frost heaves, the ride was a little bit busy and pitchy, but not uncomfortable. The ride is firm but not stiff. I didn’t hear any rattles, but then this was a relatively low-mile press fleet car. Though the four wheel disc brakes work just fine, I’d prefer a little firmer pedal. Getting a little bit of heat into the pads seemed to firm up the feel a bit and the one emergency stop I made was handled with aplomb.

When I tested the 2010 Mazda 6 S Grand Touring in February, I didn’t like the fact that the headlamp levelers (necessary to cope with load related pitch changes with the sharply aimed HID lamps) were manually adjusted. That feature is now automatic on the 6SGT’s little brother. One feature not available on last year’s 6 that came on the M3SGT I tested is AFS, adaptive front lighting system. The HID lamps can swivel, per input from the steering and speed sensors, to light up the area you are turning into. Directional headlamps are almost as old as the automobile (the Tucker’s center headlamp moved with the steering, and the Citroen SM had directional headlamps has well), but I doubt the concept has worked this well before. I can’t say that the AFS is imperceptible, because you do indeed notice it, but what you notice is how much easier it makes nighttime driving. Also, it’s kind of cool the way the lamps self-test and go through their range of motion when you first turn them on.

Other than a few relatively minor quibbles, and the fact that I personally don’t like the styling, there really was nothing not to like about the Mazda 3 S Grand Touring 5 Door. Unless you really need to seat 5 or more or want the increased comfort of a mid size sedan, I can easily see the M3SGT5D meeting the needs of most young families. It has just about all the features and space that a family car needs while still being the kind of car that brings a smile to your face every time you hop in.

Mazda provided the car, insurance and one tank of gasoline for this review.

My youngest child, of three, turns eight next month. A few years ago, when it became clear that regularly working until 3 AM and then dealing with the children in the morning was not good for anyone’s sanity, we added an au pair. So there are six people in the house. Anyone with sense would have gotten a three-row something-or-other at least eight years ago. And probably when the first child was still in utero. Fool that I am, a decade on I’m still waiting for one to sweep me off my feet. I tend to have a thing for Mazdas. Mazda makes the three-row CX-9. So, why not the CX-9? In test drives back in 2007 and 2008, we didn’t quite hit it off. Perhaps we just needed more time together? Ever hopeful, I spent a week with the 2010.

Let’s face it: in automotive love, looks matter. Mazda had the right idea with the CX-9, giving it the lithe curves of a sporty car rather than the chunkiness of an SUV. But the execution doesn’t quite work, for two reasons. Wide black plastic wheel arch moldings, a stray SUV trope, make already overly large wheel openings (leaving room for something larger than the Grand Touring’s dubs?) appear even larger. Though this automotive equivalent of too much eyeliner likely provides much-needed rust protection, trimmer moldings would have achieved the same.

Second, taking a car-like front end with horizontally-oriented graphics and simply raising it a few inches visually accentuates the front overhang while giving the designers more lower fascia than they can handle. With the 2007-2009 CX-9 the designers essentially ignored the problem, leaving the vehicle with a weak chin. For the 2010 they butched it up, super-sizing and enchroming the smiley lower grille and foglamp surrounds. Then someone decided that the new lower grille was way too large, so they added a chrome strip (braces?) in a failed attempt to visually divide it. An improvement over the 2007-2009, but not enough of one.

Not that everyone agrees with my evaluation. The CX-9 certainly has its admirers. My family found it attractive, especially when clothed in “copper red mica.” Also, the CX-9’s curves and proportions successfully disguise its size (200 x 76 x 68 inches) and mass (4,550 lbs.). My wife has rejected SUVs as small as the Hyundai Tucson as “too big.” The CX-9 provoked no such objection. The styling might not be perfect, but it does successfully sell the CX-9 as the three-row vehicle for people who don’t really want one, but need one.

Inside the designers have been more successful, with a distinctively mod interior that’s both sharper and sportier than you’ll find in competitors. The downward sweeping “I can’t believe it’s not wood” trim that frames the center stack in the Grand Touring is mirrored in the door panels. Both this and the similarly mirrored horizontal bands of silver plastic trim (starting to look dated) work best in the black interior. The light gray interior in the tested car isn’t as striking, and would be harder to keep clean, but feels airier. In either interior the precisely tailored armrests lend a comfortable touch of class. The Mazda3-class switchgear: not so much. And what’s up with the manual height adjustment for the xenons? The previous tester (or perhaps the one before him?) left them in their lowest position, where in an unladen vehicle they essentially serve as really strong fog lights.

Between a steeply raked but not overly distant windshield and an unusually tall center console, the CX-9’s driving position is easily the most car-like among three-row people haulers. The downside: the CX-9’s cabin feels narrower and considerably less roomy than that of a Lambda, Flex, or large minivan. Both the second and third rows are mounted low to the floor and provide less legroom than you’ll find in the aforementioned competitors (if more than in the all-but-dead Hyundai Veracruz and Subaru Tribeca). Ditto the cargo area with the third row up; it wouldn’t have been enough for our road trip last summer.

Only putting kids in the back? Then no problem…except the only rear air vents are on the aft face of the center console. There are none in the rear walls or ceiling. Almost as bad: the controls for the rear HVAC are similarly located—only on/off can be performed from the driver’s seat. After tipping-and-sliding the second row to provide access to the third row, sometimes it returned to its previous position, other times it acquired amnesia. Back up front, various bits of the IP reflect in the windshield. Mazda offered the MPV for years before developing the CX-9, so why the rookie mistakes? One thing done right: large mirrors and an optional blind-spot warning system make for worry-free lane changes.

Rear seating is sometimes a place for love, but rarely an object of love. What I’ve been waiting for all these years, physics bedamned: a three-row vehicle that’s fun to drive. Ford didn’t lend its EcoBoost to the cause, yet the 273-horsepower 3.7-liter V6 (shared with the Lincoln MKS and MKT) would be gutsy enough if the Aisin six-speed automatic transmission were not so keen to lug it and so slow to respond to requests for more revs. Fuel economy is not a strength: 16.6 MPG in mildly aggressive driving, and 8.7 in full hoon mode. The much more powerful and heavier Ford Flex EcoBoost did a bit better. The 3.7 does at least sound better here than in Lincoln applications.

And the handling? The CX-9’s moderately firm but indecisive steering requires frequent small corrections. Feedback is minimal; the head learns that there’s plenty of grip in sweeping curves, never mind the body roll, but the fingertips and seat of the pants haven’t a clue. Typical of the class, tight curves are a recipe for understeer. It’s easier to form a close connection with a Lambda—and GM isn’t normally the master of such things.

A strength that’s part of the problem: the CX-9 often feels like it’s moving much more slowly than it actually is. The body roll seems excessive partly because the minimal sensation of speed encourages taking curves more aggressively than one would in a minivan. Not that the ride is always smooth and quiet. The Grand Touring’s 245/50R20 treads aren’t a good match for the not-quite-sporty suspension tuning, and can get thumpy, especially over expansion joints.

If I’ve been overly critical of the CX-9, it’s because I so much want to love it, and instead merely like it, and not nearly all of it. The styling and driving position lay the groundwork for a driving experience that’s more sport sedan than minivan. And, objectively, the CX-9 performs and handles better than anything else in its class. But the subjective experience, while laudably car-like, is otherwise lacking. The Mazda CX-9 drives better than most, perhaps even all, competitors, but not by a large enough margin to inspire devotion and earn forgiveness for its shortcomings.

Mazda 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.

I’ve been known to complain every now and then that cars in general have grown too heavy and, partly as a consequence, boring to drive. Hardly any engage the driver like the 2003 Mazda Protege5 in my driveway does. Even the burgeoning crop of B-segment cars, including the much-lauded Honda Fit, has disappointed in this regard. And so we come to the latest contender, the Mazda2, at 2,306 pounds the lightest 2011 car you can buy with a back seat.

The U.S. gets only a five-door hatch. For which we should be thankful; the Mazda2 sedan offered elsewhere is rather hard on the eyes. In hatchback form, a truncated tail balances the high, blunt front end. Like the “man maximum, machine minimum” Hondas of yore, the Mazda2 is nearly all passenger compartment. Though headlamp assemblies that extend nearly to the front axle along arched front fenders and the complex surfacing of the doors provide some visual interest, the exterior is much cleaner than the Mazda3’s. Select the vibrant green to render it visible to the general population.

As might be expected given the sub-$15,000 price, the Mazda2’s interior is about as spartan as they come. There’s a minimal center console, no center armrest, and a wide band of painted metal (green in the case of the tested car) visible around the rear window. Simple, somewhat clunky controls are logically arranged close at hand, such that buttons absent from the steering wheel are not missed (but are including on the uplevel Touring nevertheless). “Cheap” or “functional?” Take your pick.

As might be expected given the compact exterior dimensions, the Mazda2’s interior is about as tight as they come in a car with rear doors. Only the related Ford Fiesta offers a more cramped rear seat. At 5-9, I can sit behind myself with about an inch to spare. The rear seatback is very low, and adults must raise the headrest lest it dig uncomfortably into the upper back. Cargo volume, though easily sufficient for runs to the grocery store, doesn’t approach that in the far more spacious Honda Fit. Up front, taller drivers might wish that the center console were less intrusive or at least padded. But the seats aren’t bad, with decent levels of comfort and lateral support.

The good stuff begins with the driving position. The pillars are thin by current standards. Though the windshield is far from upright, Mazda has managed to get by without windowlettes ahead of the doors. The view over the low, compact instrument panel is more, even much more conventional than you’ll find elsewhere in the segment. There’s no sense that you’re driving an MPV.

Even better, with the 2’s handling Mazda has recaptured much of the flavor lost in the transition from Protege to 3. Around town the feel through the precise, light-yet-communicative steering is delightfully agile. Though it leans a bit in hard turns, and the 185/55VR15 tires provide a limited amount of grip, the Mazda2 is easily the best-handling car in the segment. It alone handles the way small cars used to, and ought to. The U.S.-market Ford Fiesta feels soft, imprecise, and dull in comparison.

The price for such handling must usually be paid in ride quality. But not this time; around town the Mazda2 rides much more smoothly and quietly than the Protege, and is about average for the current class. I say “around town” because at highway speeds the car gets blown about a bit and the ride becomes notably less absorbent. With the manual, the engine is turning 3,000 rpm at 70 mph in fifth, so there’s also some engine noise.

Then, the fumble. The 1.5-liter four-cylinder, with a peak output of only 100 horsepower, is weakest-in-class. Despite the car’s low curb weight, this engine feels even weaker than the specs suggest. Below 3,500 rpm there’s nothing. Above 3,500 there’s not much more. Compounding the problem, the spread between first and second gear is unusually wide. Shift at 5,000 rpm, and you end up dead in the water at 3,000. To avoid falling into this hole, it’s necessary to shift near the 6,300 rpm redline. The engine is smooth, but even around its peak it provides no joy. Like those of more powerful (yet still overburdened) powertrains in competitors, the EPA ratings fail to impress: a less-than-stellar 29/35. A sixth gear would also help here.

The $14,730 base price is at least low, undercutting a similarly-equipped Chevy Aveo by $560. Adjusting for feature differences (using TrueDelta.com’s car price comparison tool more than doubles the Mazda’s advantage—it has standard stability control, while the Aveo manual isn’t even available with ABS. Equip a Fiesta similarly then adjust for feature differences and the Mazda has about a $250 advantage. A Honda Fit is about a grand more.

We’re left pondering the great car that easily might have been. With little apparent faith in the car, Mazda appears to have spent the bare minimum to adapt the 2 for the U.S. market. The excellent chassis deserves a much better powertrain. With even the 119-horsepower 1.6 from the Fiesta the 2 would be much better. With a 1.8 (as offered by Nissan and Scion) it would be delightful. With the Mazda3’s 148-horsepower 2.0 it would scream. Even a stronger 1.5 paired with better gearing might suffice. As is, enthusiasts will pass on the Mazda2 because of the gutless powertrain while non-enthusiasts will prefer the more stylish Ford Fiesta or much more practical Honda Fit. Hopefully Mazda will interpret the resulting low sales to mean they need to fix the problem, and not discontinue the car.

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

For a reviewer, getting handed a car with delivery miles on the odometer is an instant promotion to tribal shaman. You’re given a quick pat on the back before being shoved into a hut with the village’s prettiest virgin. Needless to say, this privilege comes with the sacred duty of keeping the virgin in tip-top shape, otherwise your term as high-muck-a-much will be pretty short-lived. Unfortunately for my political aspirations, the Mazda2 loves being ridden hard. It squeals through corners, snarling like a dog in heat. There’s a lot more fun to be had here than the tiny 185/55R15 Dunlop Sports suggest.

Of course, being on a deadline and with nothing to report but “it’s fu-un”, I knew I needed a different hook for this story. To put the Mazda2 in perspective, I needed to compare it to the class leader. Which just happens to be the Honda Fit. The old girl has just gotten a big time makeover, and she knows more tricks than most anyone else. With Satan as my co-pilot, we head out into the wilderness for a head-to-head comparison.

On paper, the Mazda2’s 102 hp 1.5 liter MZR and 4-speed automatic aren’t very impressive. The Fit has 15 ponies and one gear more. But from a roll, you’d be hard pressed to see a difference. The Mazda’s willing motor and short gears make it much more responsive than the figures suggest, especially at highway speeds. It suffers more deflection in crosswinds, but trumps the Honda in terms of high speed stability over heaves. The steering also firms up much more at speeds, giving you more confidence in dealing with road conditions. While the engine struggles to pull past 100 mph, the Mazda’s small footprint makes it easy to thread through traffic to conserve what precious little momentum you can build up in such a light car. I’d complain about the lack of paddle-shifters or even the ubiquitous +/- Mazdamatic (don’t laugh) that comes on Mazda’s bigger cars, but the transmission downshifts quite willingly whether or not you play with the overdrive toggle.

Taken off the high roads and up into the hills, the Mazda2 further impresses. While the ABS kicks in annoyingly early when you’re diving nose-down into a corner with one rear wheel cocked in the air, it’s a better balanced backroads companion than the Fit. It corners flatter than the Honda, and doesn’t grind over midcorner bumps. The Honda’s soft suspension setting and annoyingly low ride height, both a boon on the highway, count against it here. Though both cars have reassuringly firm side bolsters, we found ourselves sliding around a lot more inside the Fit when playing cat and mouse through the esses. The Mazda’s electro-hydraulic steering rack is surprisingly firm and tactile. She may be faking it, like all the new girls do, but she does it like a pornstar. And like a pornstar, she just goes on and on. This little-car-that-could soaks up the punishment long after the Fit has flown into the weeds. Despite not being appreciably heavier than the Mazda2, the Honda Fit seems to have lost some of the spunky edge that made the first-generation car so beloved of enthusiasts, all in search of more refinement. The Mazda2 beats it in both regards, combining comfort and ability much better than either generation of Honda’s supermini.

In fact, I’d venture as far as saying that it’s better than the Mazda3 in similar spec. The Mazda3 also manages to be both supple and sure-footed, but you often get the sense that suspension tuning is quite “all there” compared to its sister car, the Focus. The Mazda2, on the other hand, is more stable over heaves and flatter through the corners. Makes you wonder how good the Fiesta will be.

While the Mazda2 has the usual higher content of hard surfaces and duff fabrics, the funky interior feels more Bavarian than Banzai. It has vault-like sound deadening and (slightly) more supportive seats than the Fit. Even the fat, chunky steering wheel, with its big silver spokes, feels like it’s come off a 1-series rather than a Mazda. It’s an apt comparison, the 1-series has shitty plastic, too.

Others might find a similarity in the subtle contouring of the Mazda2’s flanks. This inspiration, however, is drawn from Mazda’s new “Nagare” (wind) school of design. This wraps the car in curvy lines that, unlike those on the BMW 1-series, actually go somewhere interesting and don’t disappear in mid-thought.

Flame-surfacing aside, there’s a lot of detail in the car itself. The swept-back and pulled-in greenhouse makes the Mazda2 look wider than it is, and the flared arches wrap tightly around the puny 15” alloys this tester came in on. Not that it needs any more rubber. Like the Mini Cooper, the Mazda2 extracts an incredible amount of performance from a tiny amount of contact patch.

Unfortunately, while the Mazda2 is much roomier than a Mini, it’s nowhere near as cavernous inside as a Fit. This may be its biggest stumbling block in penetrating a US market which is still getting used to the Fit subcompact. And our Mazda tester is worryingly bare of such essentials as electronic stability control (available for more money), rear disc brakes (which would help with the braking issue) and side-curtain airbags. There are multiple spec levels for the Mazda2, but ours is bare as bare can be without ditching the radio/i-Pod jack and climate control. Which are nothing to write home about, anyway.

Neither is the straight-line performance. A 0-62 mph time of 11.7 seconds (half a tick slower than the heavier 1.5AT Fit) doesn’t count as exciting in anyone’s books. The 2011 model’s uprated 5-speed automatic should find that extra half-second, though an extra thirty or forty horses would be an even better upgrade. But then, there’s more to driving fun than stoplight drags.

Still, it’s nice to see that “fun” and “frugal” aren’t mutually exclusive. The Mazda2’s 30+ mpg is like finding out the village virgin is good both in bed and in the kitchen. And, unlike the similar and similarly fun Suzuki Swift, she’ll take the kids to school for you, too. The only problem is the dowry she commands. Properly equipped, a Mazda2 costs about as much as a Honda Fit with the same kit. Now, paying Fit money for what is an arguably better car makes a lot of sense. Paying Fit money for what is an undoubtedly smaller one doesn’t. But as with tribal virgins, size isn’t the only thing that matters. The Mazda2’s sweet disposition, raunchy performance and pert looks might be more than enough to win people over.

The test vehicle was loaned to me by Mazda, with a full tank of gas and new tires, for testing purposes. It was returned with a nearly empty tank of gas, slightly worn tires and a big grin.

The Mazda 6 is an enigma. It’s a fine automobile, at least the equal of any car in its segment, as close to a driver’s car as you’ll find in a midsize family sedan. Comfortable, not bad looking, nicely appointed, good fit and finish, great performance, decent economy. There is no question that the Mazda 6 stacks up well in phylum Camcordata yet it sits no higher than 10th place in the family sedan sales race, averaging about 2,400 units a month in the US since the all new 2010 model got up to speed last summer. The midsize segment in North America is the automotive big leagues. The 6 should be fighting for first place, not mired deep in the second division. Product may be everything, but sometimes it’s not enough.
As part of Bridgestone’s corporate sponsorship of the Chicago Auto Show, Mazda made a Blizzak equipped Mazda 6 S Grand Touring available to me for travel to and from the show. Conditions were a 6-10 inch snowstorm on the way to Chicago and 95% dry on the way home. After I got back I had the car for a few days in suburban Detroit, where roads were intermittently snow covered.

The S Grand Touring trim package is the top of the Mazda 6 lineup and this one came equipped with the only available options, the technology and navigation packages. That makes it as fully kitted as a 6 can get with an MSRP right around $33,000. The car had Mazda’s 3.7 liter 272 HP DOHC 24 valve V6 with variable valve timing mated to a 6 speed automatic with available tap shifting. Equipment included power and heated leather seats, dual zone automatic climate control, glass sunroof, high end Bose audio system with six-disc changer, 10 speakers, sat radio, a nav system, auto dimming mirrors, rain and snow sensing wipers, stability control, blind spot warning, xenon headlamps with leveling controls (more on that later), smart key fob system, sills that light up with the Mazda 6 logo and more. Personal settings for you and your significant other are stored in memory. On the outside were 18″ aluminum rims with wide 235/45 tires.

I’m not partial to the Mazda grin (though it’s not as bad as the menacing face on Acuras). The rest of the car is handsome, with an attractive wedge profile and an aggressive stance, partially due to the flared fenders and fat 45 series tires. It’s got a high rear deck like most sedans these days, and I’m only 5’6″, but rear visibility wasn’t a problem. The front end does drop away quickly but I didn’t find positioning the front end on the road to be a problem. One nice thing about the high rear deck is a spacious trunk, which Mazda claims to be a class leading 16.6 cubic feet. All in all I’d say it’s about the best looking car in the class. The Malibu is inoffensive but narrow, the Camry has a proboscis and a Bangle butt, and the Accord is bloated. Though I like some of what’s come out of Nissan under Shiro Nakamura the Nissan sedans don’t do it for me. The Sonata’s not bad, and represents what the Accord probably should have been. I don’t think anyone would be embarrassed by the looks of the 6. If anything, it stands out in a nondescript segment.

Fit and finish was good. Paint quality on the dark blue car was first rate as was panel fit. Interior quality was nice as well. The interior is gray and black, with black wood (or fake wood, if it’s a fake, it’s a good fake – one reviewer has called it Mazda6ium) [ED: it is fake] trim on the dash and the console, an elegant and original touch. The only thing that looked cheap was the storage bin / cup holder in the door, which had some visible molding lines in the hard plastic. Textures looked and felt good and the switchwork, particularly the steering column stalks, had great tactile feel. There’s a 12v outlet on the center stack, with an additional power tap in the console bin, where the jack and cable for connecting an mp3 player is also located – a nice idea that keeps clutter off the console.

As I said, the 6 GT comes with all the latest high tech features one could find in a family sedan. With concerns over drive-by-wire arising from the Toyota situation I wonder, though, if we’re reaching the point of diminishing returns with technology on cars. I can remember that the only thing you needed to learn was that Saab’s had the ignition key on the floor between the seats and Porsches’ were over on the left side of the dashboard. Now, you can unlock and start your car without ever handling something that looks like a key and you really have to read the manual before you drive a car that’s new to you.

Not that I have anything against reading the manual. I’m the original RTFM guy. Before getting behind the wheel I took the time to read the quick start guide to learn how to start (and stop) the car, operate the basic controls, figure how to get sounds on the stereo, and in general drive the car safely. On the road to Chicago, though, I discovered that I had not RTFM’d carefully enough.

I left at mid-afternoon and between the weather and the traffic, I don’t think that I exceeded 50 mph until I was approaching Indiana on I-94. Though the road was not snow covered, it was just barely so. Between the snow tires, the stability control and the 6′s road handling abilities I had plenty of confidence and when things finally cleared up during a lull in the storm I tried to make up some time. By then it was fully dark out and I realized that I was seriously overdriving my headlights. The low beams were very bright but there was a visible cutoff about a semi tractor trailer’s length in front of my car. When I got to the show and spoke to the Mazda rep, he asked me if there were xenon headlamps and I said, yeah, I think so. Then he showed me the headlamp leveling control over on the auxiliary IP.

Ahah! So that’s what that cryptic icon means. On the way back to Detroit, once in their high position, the headlamps worked fine, though I think that headlamp leveling is a case of selling a bug fix as a feature. The new high intensity lamps are indeed very bright and very precisely aimed. The light pattern is very, very directional, with sharp cutoffs between the dark and illuminated areas. The beam is also narrow vertically to keep it out of the eyes of opposing traffic. When aimed on the road they work great, but the end result is that the headlamps are sensitive to the car’s pitch. When the back seat and trunk are full the leveling control is needed to lower the lights and keep them aimed on the road, instead of pointing into the sky. More expensive cars make the systems automatic. Mazda gives you a thumbwheel with an icon that looks like a Volvo fog lamp switch (the actual fog lamps are actuated by a band on the headlamp/turn signal stalk. Even with the lamps in the highest position, the road’s grade could pitch the lamps down well below the horizon. Old fashioned sealed beam units may not have been as bright, but they were not nearly so pitch sensitive. Still, headlamp leveling is kind of cool. When I showed it to my friends, they all went, “wow”, but as I said, I think it’s more of fix than a feature.

Other than my brain fade with the lights, all the gizmos worked well. The smart key system quickly stops being a novelty and starts being a convenience, particularly in operating the door and trunk locks. The blind spot warning indicators were unobtrusive, the automatic wipers worked about 95% as well as I would have done myself – I think I only used the washers about a half a dozen times in about 7 hours – in a snow storm with plenty of salt on the road.

As an audiophile I guess I’m supposed to dismiss Bose, but the audio system sounded good, with tight bass and accurate highs. Sat radio is nice but I discovered that I can actually get bored of the Grateful Dead, though they did play some deep Pigpen cuts I’d never heard before. The self-dimming mirrors were nice to have since most of the driving was at night on the interstates. In addition to the dimming feature and power adjustment, the side mirrors were also heated and light the ground when you open the door. The self-dimming works nicely but there’s a band about 1/4″ around the perimeter of the mirror that doesn’t dim. As headlamps move from the dimmed area across that undimmed 1/4″ it can be distracting as they suddenly get brighter in your peripheral vision. More important is the fact that the mirror units are huge. I guess all that adjusting and dimming and lighting and heating takes up space because the housings are very large, and with the mirrors set off from the body, at least on the driver’s side the mirror obscures a good deal of your vision out of the side window.

The climate control works perfectly. The ACC has a nice feature where the fan blows hard for a few seconds after you get back into the car and start it after a short stop. That quickly gets things to temperature and is welcome in cold weather. After cold starts, while you’re waiting for the engine to warm up and the ACC to kick in, the seats have two heat settings that quickly make your tush and thighs toasty.

Those seats deserve special mention. I have a bad back. Scratch that, I have a terrible back. Breakfast is three aspirin and so is my bedtime snack. I first hurt my back as a teen, and have messed it up a few times since including falling down a 35-foot river bed in the Upper Peninsula. Most recently I had a bad head-on bicycle to bicycle wreck on a blind curve a couple of years ago. It hurts to roll over in bed. Though I love long distance driving, I haven’t been able to drive more than 150-200 miles at a stretch without my back starting to ache in a long, long time. The eight way power seats (w/ memory) in the Mazda 6 Grand Touring are damn near perfect, at least for my back.

The lumbar adjustment was ideal and I didn’t have to even rub my back, squirm or stretch once in over 600 miles of driving. Ergonomics were superb in terms of driving position and working the wheel and pedals. The gear shift, too, falls readily to hand (I always wanted to write that). Beyond the driving position, ergonomics were only okay. Controls on the steering wheel are nice but when they end up making the wheel too thick to grip, it doesn’t thrill me. Also not thrilling are symmetrical center stack controls, a problem not restricted to Mazda. The buttons and knob on the passenger side of the touch screen are a reach for the driver or at least this driver who has a long torso and arms. I understand the appeal of symmetry in design, since my day job involves some design work, but function should come first. There are attractive center stack designs that put all controls within reach of the driver.

Dynamics were great and the car is quiet. The car handled nicely both in the snow and on dry pavement. I didn’t do many full throttle accelerations but I didn’t notice any significant torque steer. Like all front wheel drive cars, the Mazda 6 is ultimately understeer-prone, but the car had a lot of grip, the steering was precise and the understeer was minor enough that I bet if you really pushed it you might be able to hang out the rear end. The car did feel very balanced.

The toll road through Gary is a two lane highway with virtually no shoulders and concrete barriers on both sides. Under the best of conditions it makes me nervous. It’s currently undergoing construction and there are a number of lane shifts that made it an even more nervous experience, particularly in snow, at night, in a borrowed $33,000 car. While not quite the Nordschleife at the Nürburgring, it required some attention and it was nice to have a car that felt competent. The power steering unit is hydraulically assisted, without being overassisted, but considering the level of grip and steering precision it could have had a bit more feel for my tastes. The first car that I bought was a Lotus so I may have unusual standards in that regard. As I said, the car was equipped with snow tires, and that might have compromised steering feel. The suspension in the Grand Touring package is tuned for firmness and control, but the ride on Michigan’s heaved and potholed roads was still comfortable.

The V6 had more than adequate power. Passing on the interstate was effortless, driving around town was fun, and it’s too bad that spot on the Southfield freeway north of the city and south of where the Southfield cops and MSP troopers patrol is barely a mile long. The six-speed transmission, an Aisin design, rather than a Ford unit as some believe, was very smooth, with almost imperceptible shifts and no apparent hunting. One quibble about the transmission is probably due to shift patterns programmed for fuel mileage.  I averaged 21.9 mpg over 750 miles of less than ideal conditions, which isn’t bad, but the 1-2 and 2-3 shifts come a bit too early for me in light throttle driving. The car doesn’t quite bog down, but it’s out of character with what is generally a car with a sporting nature. Of course if you don’t like the way the automatic is programmed, you can use the tap shifter and row your own, or just keep your foot down.

So if the Mazda 6 is such a good car, why doesn’t it do better in its segment? Part of the problem is the car’s name. If you asked people what a Camry, Accord or Malibu is, they’ll tell you a Toyota, Honda or Chevy. If you asked people what a 6 is, they’ll say it’s a number. Alphanumerics might work with luxury cars, but every other car in the 6′s segment has a name. The Accord and Civic brands help the overall Honda brand. Do 2 (late 2010 in the USA), 3, 5, and 6 help Mazda? If you surveyed 100 people, the only Mazda most people could identify has a name, the Miata (yeah, I know about Eunos in the JDM and the whole MX-5 thing but I’m talking about the domestic US market).

Remember how product may not be enough? Good products, Sony Betamax comes to mind, from good companies, are sometimes not marketed as well as they could be and may never achieve the success they could have had. Mazda’s “zoom-zoom” marketing campaign has been very successful in establishing a brand identity. The Spec Miata class is the most popular racing class in the United States.

Ironically, maybe that sporting image, and Mazda’s “zoom-zoom” ad campaign is why the Mazda 6 is not considered by more families. This sounds like heresy from an enthusiast, but lets face it, the average car buyer is not an enthusiast. Toyota has made a virtue out of being boring and everyone else is trying to compete with Toyota because they think that’s what consumers want. Obviously many millions of consumers do want exactly that, a boring reliable appliance, or Toyota wouldn’t have sold so many Camrys. So zoom-zoom may accurately characterize the brand and Mazda’s cars but it may also scare off some folks looking for an automotive Maytag. That’s unfortunate because if more people shopped the Mazda 6, they’d realize that it’s a very nice car and competitive pressures might make the Camcordatas more fun to drive.

Note: I was loaned the car by the Chicago Auto Show’s Drive-In program. The media preview at Chicago is sponsored by Bridgestone. I believe that the car and insurance  was made available by Mazda and my lodging was paid for by Bridgestone. I’m not sure exactly who paid for the gasoline but it wasn’t me. I paid for the tolls, a 3/4 baked deep dish kosher pizza to bring home to my daughter from A Slice Of Life, and a Burger Buddy from Ken’s down the street in Skokie since I’d hardly eaten anything both days at the show’s media preview. I keep asking the show organizers to try to get at least one car company to hire a kosher caterer so I’m not reduced to scrounging for chips that have an OU symbol. Of course the first thing I was offered at the media party in Buddy Guy’s club was a barbecued pork sandwich.  In the meantime if you stop at Ken’s or Slice of Life, tell them that I gave them a plug and maybe I’ll get a deal next February.

The Mazda3’s performance has always kept it a step ahead of the other economy cars on the market. However, as Mazda’s worked to differentiate their econobox from cookie-cutter Cobalts, Corollas and Civics visually, they’ve tweaked it from different to borderline bizarre. It is said beauty is only skin deep, but ugly goes clean to the bones. Has Mazda gone too far, or is the 2010 Mazda3s Sport still good enough underneath to make you overlook its sheet metal shortcomings?

Mazda says the front-end styling of the Mazda3 is borrowed from the RX-8. If that’s so, then they need to return it posthaste. Its grinning countenance brings to mind the pre-Heath Ledger Joker. And when you discover more than half the grill is blocked off and only a small portion of it functions to funnel air anywhere, you have to wonder what Animé-influenced acid trip the designers were on.

Fortunately the inside is as good as the outside is bizarre. A dual pod instrument cluster sits right in front of the driver, displaying the electroluminescent speedometer and tach. You also get a bar-graph gas gauge but all indicators of the engine’s wellbeing are relegated to warning lights. The leather-wrapped steering wheel sports buttons for the cruise control, audio system, Bluetooth and nav system, and all of the other controls on the dash are well marked and easy to figure out.

The seats deserve special mention. They’re firm, well bolstered and one of the few seats I’ve been able to get comfortable in without an inordinate amount of fiddling and squirming. While power adjustment is standard in the top-line Touring model, the lesser models’ manually adjustable seats are so good you don’t miss the electronics.

The only real ergonomic blunder is the optional nav system. The screen is above and to the right of the instrument cluster, almost at the base of the windshield. The tiny screen is hard to read and the steering-wheel-mounted controls are inaccessible to the passenger. That means the driver has to divert his attention from the road to locate local points of interest, restaurants, etc.—tasks best relegated to the passenger while the vehicle is in motion.

And you don’t want to divert your attention from the road, especially when that road is the infamous Tail of the Dragon. Mazda says the 3s has “zoom-zoom,” so to see if they’re right my son and I drove up to Tennessee to abuse put the 3s through its paces.

Driving there showed it’s a capable freeway cruiser. It had no problems keeping up with (or leading) traffic. The 2.5L, 167HP engine has plenty oomph for passing and the 168 lb·ft of torque makes it quick off the line. The five-speed automatic shifts almost imperceptibly. Overall it’s fairly quiet on smooth pavement, and with a Cd of 0.29 there’s a minimum of wind noise (at least with the sunroof closed). However, if the surface is somewhat rough, quite a bit of tire and road noise filters through.

But where the Mazda3s shines is when the freeway ends and the twisties start. It had no problem exceeding the (ridiculously low) posted speed limit on the Cherohala Skyway (thanks, Trooper Allen, for cutting me a little slack!). I tried manually shifting the transmission but it seemed happiest when left to its own devices. Even at altitudes in excess of 5000 feet, the engine didn’t seem to be straining.

The real test came once we hit the Tail of the Dragon. Mazda says they recalibrated the suspension for 2010. Whatever they did, it worked. This thing boogies like a Bollywood babe. There was a bit of understeer as you might expect, but the handling was totally predictable. The steering is light but never feels over-assisted and you get excellent feedback.

The P205/50R17 Yokohamas voiced their protest at times but the car never faltered as I hound-dogged a motorcycle the entire 11 miles. After alternating between the two pedals for all 318 curves, the 11.8-inch front and 11-inch rear disk brakes showed no sign of fading. This car has the type of handling performance you paid big bucks for in sports cars two decades ago. And it runs rings around other similarly-priced econoboxes.

We returned home tired but I could have sworn I heard the car saying “more, please” as we got out. For all my heavy-footed driving it still returned a respectable 25 mpg (EPA rating is 22/29) My only misgiving was that it had the automatic instead of the six-speed manual. I guess it’s a good thing it didn’t have the third pedal, though.  There’s only so much fun someone my age can handle in one day and the Mazda3 delivered in spades. Like an ugly puppy that grows into a faithful lifelong companion, the Mazda3’s goodness transcends its questionable looks.

[Mazda provided the vehicle, insurance and a tank of fuel for this review.]

I’ll come right out and say it: It’s my parents’ fault. You see, my mom’s just a couple of inches over five feet tall and my dad’s only a bit taller than she is. But for some reason they passed genes to me resulting in me growing to 6′3″. It makes for interesting family portraits but when it comes to cars, it sucks. I grew up riding with my knees shoved in the dashboard of whatever bench-seat-equipped sedan they happened to own at the time. And now I’m given a Mazda MX-5 Miata Grand Touring to review. Genetics is a bitch.

Mazda deserves credit for not messing with the genetics of their diminutive roadster. From its inception it’s been true to its original design. While it’s gotten slightly larger over the years—mainly to accommodate safety regulations—it remains the modern-day incarnation of the classic two-seat roadster.

One thing they have messed with, though, is the name. While it’s always been sold as the MX-5 elsewhere, it was introduced in the US as the Miata and that’s the name most people know it by. When I told friends I was driving an “MX-5″ they had no clue what I was talking about. When I added “Miata” the light went on immediately. Miata has great brand recognition and why Mazda doesn’t leave it alone is beyond me.

A makeover for 2009 freshened the looks while still leaving it one of the most recognizable cars on the road. However the most questionable part of the facelift is the face. Mazda made the grill bigger and it now looks like one of the talking cars from the Chevron commercials. With a smiley grill and dimpled driving lights, “cute” is the only adjective that can be used to describe its countenance. And it does nothing to dispel the misconception that it’s a “chick car.”

Inside, as you’d expect in a car with a 91.7 inch wheelbase, things are kind of tight. The controls on the well-laid-out instrument panel are all within easy reach. Hell, everything in there is within easy reach. The Grand Touring trim level adds lots of toys like heated seats, cruise control and automatic air conditioning that are nice to have but don’t add anything to the fun factor.

Even though it’s . . . um . . . cozy for someone my size, the seats are quite comfortable (once they’re adjusted to their lowest and rearmost positions). The only real problem: trying to get my size 14EEE feet working the pedals correctly. Once I finally figured the proper two-step to keep my right foot off the gas and brake at the same time I was good to go.

I spent most of my time in Miata with the top down. Thankfully the weather cooperated because the one time I drove it with the top up I had severe MG-B flashbacks. I had to slouch to see through the windshield (as opposed to looking over it when the top was down). At least dropping the top was no problem—the Miata’s soft top has to be the best ever designed. It goes down with a flick of the wrist and can be erected without leaving the driver’s seat.

And top down driving is what this car is all about.  Twist the key (even with the “smart key” there’s a key-like protuberance to twist) and the 2009 Mazda MX-5 Miata is more eager to play than a Lab puppy with a new tennis ball. There’s no need to turn on the radio; the 167hp, 2.0L DOHC four provides the best soundtrack you could ever want.

Grab the shifter and you discover one reason to spring for the Touring or Grand Touring trim levels: they’re the only ones with a six-speed transmission. The shifter snicks through the gears with Germanic precision. You find yourself taking the long way around even for the short trip to the local Stop ’n Rob, just for the aural delights of the exhaust note and the haptic satisfaction from rowing the shifter.

And then, when the road gets curvy, you’ll find the $500 you dropped on the suspension package was money well spent. The Bilstein shocks and sport suspension tuning give you the sensation you’re in the world’s largest slot car without beating you to death in the process. It may not be the fastest car on the highway but that doesn’t matter. It’s one of those rare cars that’s fun to drive, regardless of how fast you’re going.

The MX-5 Miata was the first car I’ve driven in a long time that had me grinning every time I drove it (although the grin faded a bit as I extricated myself from it). If you’re looking for an antidote for automotive ennui, look no further. That is, if you have the genes for the job.

Unlike previous special edition MX-5′s, the 10AM was more than a simple paint and badge job. The biggest change: the brand’s boffins replaced the MX’s slick-shifting five-speed gearbox with a six-speed manual transmission. This close ratio gear box improved the car’s performance and made highway cruising a slightly less noisy and tiresome affair.

The Hiroshima-built bomber was blessed with Bilsteins; the sport shocks greatly improved handling– in exchange for a significantly stiffer ride. A front strut bar increased stability in the front end and improved steering feel (already telepathic). The package also included special polished wheels and high performance tires. Mazda sold the model in one color: a special shade of blue that was never used before or since. Interior changes included leather seats with faux blue suede inserts, special floor mats, blue carpet, chrome trim and a matching blue tonneau cover. In fact, the 10th AE was loaded to the gills, boasting every possible option (ABS, larger wheels, etc.) save a slush boy.

One area that was not addressed: performance. The AE deployed the standard second generation 1.8-liter, four cylinder, 16 valve engine BP-4W engine. By then, horsepower was up to 140 with 119 ft.-lbs. or torque– which gave no real improvement in performance over the first generation cars. The 0 to 60 “sprint” was still an eight second affair. The AE’s six speed required an extra shift, making the AE only a tenth of a second faster than a garden variety MX-5. That said, Miatas are about the joy of driving, not speed per se. The 10AM was not the best handling Miata; that honor went to the lighter 1999 Sport model [no AC or power options], and had the stiffer sway bars and Bilstein dampers. But the 10AM certainly upheld the Miata’s core values, carving corners with true elan.

Mazda limited worldwide production to 7,500 10th AEs. Each model was individually numbered, with a number plate affixed to the side of the car. In an unusual move, all 7,500 Miatas were identical in all markets, including Japan. A total of 3,500 were allocated for the US. To further distinguish the “10AM” from lesser Miatas, each car came with a numbered certificate of authentication. Buyers also received a blue key fob, a small scale model of the car and his and hers matching Seiko watches with blue faces.

While reviews of the 10th AE were mostly positive, sales were disappointing. Many new cars sat on dealer’s lots well into model year 2000. Needless to say, price was the hurdle over which poetential 10AM buyers would not jump. Mazda wanted the highest msrp ever charged for a Miata: $26,875, roughly $6500 more than the base model. The price was dangerously close to low-end roadsters from BMW and Honda and/or a used Porsche Boxster.

The aesthetics didn’t help. Not all aspiring 10AM-istas were enamored by the special exterior and matching interior colors. The chrome wheels, bright blue/purple hue and the near bordello like look of the interior required a certain level of extroversion that the model’s core buyers lacked. Eventually, all the AE’s were sold.

Driving the 10AM is similar to other 2nd generation Miatas. The six speed gear box shifts as smoothly as the usual five speed, with short, precise cog swaps. Unfortunately, Mazda’s  gear spacing choices are questionable. There’s little to distinguish the spacing between 5th and 6th gear.

Many 10AMs were bought and stored as collectors items. Ten years later, it would appear that this was a bad investment. Low mile cars trading at in the teens. Higher mileage drivers in good condition are only worth 30 percent of their original value. With the large number of 10AMs produced, their value will continue to be flat, with little increase, if any, in value.

That said, given the Miata’s simplicity and reliability, buying a 100k mile 10AM for $9k gets you a garish but unique looking Miata that handles like a go kart. The 10AM is not for every Miata fan, but if you like/can live with the color scheme, it’s easily the best value in used second generation Miatas today. And that’s saying something.

When I set out on a comparison test like this, I have one main question in mind: if I were in the market to buy a new car for my family, which one of the cars tested would I buy? I love supple leather seats, premium sound systems, grippy wide tires and an engine with the torque of a diesel freight train. But the reality at this time is that my employer, one of the world’s largest financial institutions, has lost billions of dollars in recent quarters. Its epic balance sheet can now be described as fragile. As a financial controller, I see first-hand how budgets are being drawn in asphyxiatingly tight. I know that I’m not alone in feeling nervous about my future in this economy. So which of these family sedans would I buy? The Mazda Mazda6 i Sport.

The Mazda6 proves that buying a practical family sedan does not have to be a five year prison sentence of  Kafkaesque driving. WYSIWYG: the Mazda personifies the sophisticated sports sedan. Let’s try a little word association. Camry: Beluga. Accord: Bloated. Altima: Zen. Mazda6: Zoom. As cheesy as it sounds, from its RX-8 inspired fenders and light clusters to its aggressive rear haunches, the Mazda6 wears the Zoom-Zoom moniker well. Okay, I admit the four-cylinder is more one Zoom than the double Zoom-Zoom, but it looks the part just as well. Unique in this comparison, the Mazda6 is attractive from any angle-– coming or going.

Unfortunately, the car’s design continuity isn’t as coherent both on the inside and out. The Mazda6i’s interior is a bipolar affair; it may well have been designed by separate committees that never coordinated with each other. On the one hand, there’s the dingy committee that designed the doors and ceiling. The arm rest is a long flat uncomfortable plane with a cheap pocket pull, none of which conforms to how a person’s arm and hand want to relax. Overhead, Mazda fitted a smallish flimsy thin sun visor that looks like it was transplanted from an old Yugo.

The dash was conceived by savant part of idiot savant. From Ford-inspired air vent to air vent, the Mazda6’s dash is the best organized, most visually appealing and highest quality IP of our family quartet. The perfection of the steering wheel shames the other cars (notwithstanding RF’s love for the Accord’s tiller). The blue and orange gauge cluster lighting might be a little Nintendo for some tastes, but overall the ebony layout is more Audi mature than Game Boy. The Mazda6i’s cloth seats are endlessly comfortable and enormously supportive, ideal for both long distance love and all-out horsing around.

A gimmicky push button awakens Mazda’s perky 2.5-liter DOHC 16-valve VVT engine. Producing only 170 horsepower, it only offers more juice than the pedestrian Camry. Yet this mini-mill isn’t hamstrung by Nissan’s unfortunate CVT or Honda’s inexplicable porkiness. While the Mazda6i’s not what you’d call a sports car, this engine loves to play hard.

Like the Camry and Accord, the Mazda sports Michelin Energy LX4 tires, though in a narrower P205/65R16 size (compared to P215/60R16 on the Camcords). According to published manufacturer claims, the Mazda is the heaviest of the group by a small margin. Leave it to the suspension to make the car feel and handle like an amorous gnat– flitting back and forth at will with joyous aplomb. The perfectly-weighted steering puts the front wheels intuitively where the driver wants them.

Get into the throttle and the Mazda6i’s five-speed automatic transmission grabs the right cog faster than the Toyota or Honda gear boxes or that irritating Nissan CVT doohickey. Breaking loose from tedious stop-and-go traffic never felt so good. Not in a front wheel-drive four-pot family sedan, anyway.

As you might expect, a suspension serving-up this much control dishes-up a healthy helping of harshness. While the Mazda6i falls far behind the Camry in refinement it’s not far off the marks set by the Accord and Altima. In sum, while the ride is not pillowy cream puff decadence, it remains perfectly livable. And it’s quieter than the noisy Accord to boot.

Going economical this year doesn’t have to be an exercise in self flagellation. None of these cars is bad– and they will all sell well (whatever “well” means). One is as dreadfully underwhelming as comfy grandma underwear [Camry].  One will get more sales based on its fun-to-drive history rather than on its current competence [Accord]. Many drivers will flock to another peacefully unaware that power reaches the wheels by way of a soul-sapping rubber band [Altima]. But above and beyond these, the Mazda Mazda6 i Sport has the ability to put a genuine smile on a pistonhead’s face, or turn a non-pistonhead into something of a, gulp, enthusiast.

I’m telling you up front that the Mazda RX-8 R3 is not for everyone. Like every modern Mazda, the company’s Nagare (flow?) design language is creeping in. Which makes the “sporty front bumper” that’s unique to the R3 package look like a demonic Pokemon. You also get a rear spoiler. I happen to think the exterior treatment looks wikkid awesome killer cool. But I understand why [some] folks over the age of 18 may not. At least we can all agree that ditching the RX-8′s ludicrous triangular anus was the best move Mazda’s made in years.

I could make the RX-8”s interior perfect in 10 minutes– with a crow bar. Out goes the goofy stereo unit, most of the crummy plastic and the useless back seats. But here’s the good part: any surface that actually involves driving is near perfect, if not actually so. The leather shrouded steering wheel’s my new best friend. The six-speed manual (only tranny available on the R3!) may not be as snick-snick perfect as the Miata’s, but it’s damn close. And you won’t find a better dead pedal on any car. I’m too fat for the Japanese market racing Recaros. But hey, I should lose 25 pounds (though I’d still be too fat).

All RX-8s now come with a brilliant new 1.3-liter RENESIS two-rotor rotary engine that’s good for 232 hp and 159 lb-ft of torque. If that doesn’t sound like much to you, you’ve never driven a Wankel. You don’t take rotaries to drag strips where their obvious lack of torque is a handicap. You take rotary-powered cars to tracks, where a 9,000 rpm redline and humongous usable power band means you can leave the car in third and forget about it ’til you win the race. That’s essentially what I did while carving through some of LA’s best canyons.

Like all RX Mazda’s, the R3’s engine is up front, driving the rear wheels. There’s no performance compromise. Up until this weekend, the EVO X MR was the best-handling car I’ve ever reviewed. But remember: the mighty EVO begins life as a humble FWD econo-box, before Mitsubishi gives it a make over with fancy computers and even fancier mechanicals. Sure, the Active Yaw Control and twin-clutches in the rear half-shafts allow the best-ever EVO to run roads faster than the RX-8 (or most exotics). But underneath all the trickery the Mitsubishi’s still an upright, upper lower middle-class family car. The RX-8 R3, on the other hand, is a sports car first, second and last.

Mazda claims that all they did to tweak the R3’s handling over lesser RX-8s was to add a set of Bilsteins, 19” forged wheels and a Urethane-foam-injected front suspension cross member (whatever that is). But you know what? The results are mind altering. The R3 comes with traction control that I had on for maybe 30 seconds. You simply don’t need it. You cannot make this car break loose. I tried very hard to do so, and with the exception of making childish donuts in a parking lot, the R3 simply doesn’t surrender grip.

The R3 feels like you’re driving a closed cockpit racecar; let’s say a Lotus Se7en with a hard top and decent AC. Looking out over the hood, I kept expecting to see open wheels. Words like “direct” and “communicative” don’t begin to do the intuitive steering justice. Every crank and tug of the wheel results in total, benign compliance. One caveat: the ride is extremely hard, brutal even. But the teeth-chattering suspension’s perfectly-suited to the R3′s nature.

And here’s the cincher: $32k. For the same price as the aforementioned awful MINI Cooper Clubman S, you can have one of the world’s finest-handling sports cars. Don’t misunderstand me. I’m not saying that the RX-8 R3 handles well for a $32k car. I’m saying it handles better than a $320k car. Or, more importantly, whatever you’re driving.

[Mazda supplied the vehicle reviewed, insurance and a tank of gas.]

The Mazda5 Grand Touring and the Rondo EX adhere to the original formula. Both are built on passenger car platforms and share drivetrains with economy cars. Both are within a couple of inches of the size of the original Chrysler minivan. Both have three rows of seats; like the original Caravoyagers, the third row is optional on the Rondo. And like those early minvans, you can have a flat cargo floor if you desire. But that’s where the similarities between them end.

Mazda and Kia took decidedly divergent design directions. The Mazda5 looks like the love child of a Mazda3 and the space shuttle. The family DNA shows in the grille that precedes a steeply sloping hood and windshield. While the more traditionally minivannish of the two, it shows some style with a beltline that swoops upward from the obligatory swept-back headlights, past the dual sliding doors and toward the rear– where you’re greeted by two huge silver… things… mounted next to the rear window. These pods contain the LED taillights and backup lights. They’re easy to see, but look oh-so-last-decade.

The Rondo eschews zoominess for cute. With its huge headlights, trapezoidal grill opening and rounded corners, it looks like one of the talking cars in the Chevron commercials. The Rondo departs from the standard minivan recipe with parking lot-unfriendly hinged doors instead of sliders. The softly rounded shape continues to the rear where it’s abruptly terminated with a sharp crease below the rear window.

At first blush, both vehicles look similar inside, down to the shift levers sprouting at a 45-degree angle from the console. However, differences abound. The Mazda5 is rated at six passengers, offering front buckets, center captain’s chairs and a two-person bench in the wayback. The Rondo claims to seat seven, with a split bench in the middle and an optional two-seater in the rear. Unfortunately, the compact dimensions of both become glaringly apparent when you get to the rearmost seats. There’s only enough room for preteens (or adults you hate) in the back of either minivan. If you have to buckle the kids into car seats or booster seats, hip room’s too tight to mention. In an attempt to give access to the torture chamber, the door openings are wide and the center seats slide forward. But you’ll still have a long stretch to get everyone settled back there.

The second row is much better. The Rondo provides ample legroom, even with the front seats pushed all the way back. But all the Rondo’s second row does is recline, move fore and aft and fold flat. The Mazda’s does that and more. Flip-up the cushion on the left side and there’s a storage bin large enough to stash an extra supply of diapers for long trips. Flip up the cushion on the right and there are cup holders and tray you can flop over into the space between the seats. Lift the bottom of that tray and there’s a net beneath to hold small toys and other flotsam that seems to be de rigueur for traveling with young ‘uns nowadays. In contrast, the Rondo’s rear cup holders slide out of the bottom of the console at floor level where they would be totally useless for little ones who are strapped in high above them.

Both cars offer plenty of space up front. But the Mazda5 has a very annoying bulge at the side of the console where the driver’s leg should be. It partially blocks the accelerator, making you hold your foot at a strange angle. Then, when you rest your leg against the console, it’s against hard plastic with a 90-degree edge on it. If you’re above average size, you’ll notice they made it feel so spacious by downsizing everything in the interior. The steering wheel is the size of a dinner plate and every time I wedged my 6’3” carcass behind it I felt like I was in a parent-teacher conference sitting in a third-grader’s chair. The mail-slot sized sunroof opening only added to the sensation. The second-row seats have very low backs-– so low in fact that when the headrests were all the way down they didn’t even come to the top of my shoulders. You adapt to the seven-eights scale furniture eventually, but it’s still disconcerting.

Neither the Rondo or the Madza5 have an abundance of cargo room with the third seat up. The Mazda’s trunk has enough room to hold a small suitcase or a few soccer balls. The Kia offers only 6.5 cubic feet. Fold down the third row in either, though, and there’s plenty of room for the beer run. The Rondo has 35 cubic feet behind the second seat and the Mazda5 holds 44 cubic feet.

The Mazda5 Grand Touring and Rondo EX are both at the apex of their respective model’s food chain. The Mazda blows the Kia out of the water equipment-wise. Both come with the usual power stuff, remote locking, six-speaker sound systems, and steering-wheel mounted radio and cruise controls. However, the Grand Touring also includes leather seats, electroluminescent gauges, automatic headlights, rain-sensing wipers, the aforementioned sunroof, heated seats, Bluetooth and it an optional nav system. The leather, sunroof and heated seats are optional on the Rondo EX and you have to pay extra for third row seating. The remaining electronic toys aren’t available at any price.

In return, the Rondo offers two things that aren’t available on the Mazda5. The first is electronic stability control, standard on the Kia. The second is a V6 engine. Mazda’s excellent 2.3-liter four-pot pumps out 153hp; it isn’t enough to provide the zoom-zoom you expect, especially if there are three or four people on board. It takes almost 10 seconds to stroll from 0 to 60 mph. You find yourself wishing they built a MazdaSpeed5.

The Rondo’s standard 2.4-liter four cranks out 162hp, and the smooth 2.7-liter V6 ups the ante to 182hp. With the larger engine, the Rondo does the 0 to 60 shuffle in just under nine seconds. Around town it’s more than sufficient. Push the mill into the higher RPM ranges to wring-out more speed and methinks it doth protest too much. With both of these vanlets, you should plan your passing maneuvers in advance, especially in hilly terrain.

The Kia and Mazda both handle fairly well for nose-heavy 3500-pound boxes. The Mazda5’s steering feels more directly connected to the front wheels than the Rondo’s, but it exhibits more body roll when pushed into a corner. Both are very maneuverable in city traffic and small enough to squeeze into spaces where larger SUVs fear to tread. You wouldn’t want to enter any gymkhanas, but there is driving fun to be had. As an added bonus, the base-level Mazda5 is available with a five-speed manual transmission.

For highway cruising, the Rondo beats the Mazda5, hands-down. Its front seats are more supportive and much more comfortable. The large analog instruments are easier to read than the Mazda’s high-tech electroluminescent ones. The radio controls are much more straightforward than Mazda’s radio cum nav system, where you have to agree not to sue them just to get to the basic radio functions. The only really annoying thing about the Rondo was the wind noise around the rearview mirror on the driver’s side.

The Mazda’s shrunken front seats and strange shaped console conspire to keep anyone above average size from getting comfortable. That, added to a resonance that boomed through the interior at speeds above 40 mph, made me wish I’d taken the Rondo every time I drove it.

Pricewise, it’s advantage Kia, as you’d expect. My fully-loaded tester listed for $23,495. They’re offering $2k incentives, so you’re just above the $21k mark before you start haggling. The admittedly much-better-equipped Mazda5 stickered for $25,395 (currently there are no incentives offered).

When you’re talking about a Kia, there are a few other considerations to factor in. First is the horrible first-year depreciation. You can expect the Rondo’s value to drop by about a third of its sticker price as soon as you drive it off the lot. Then, there’s the matter of durability. Although Kias have improved quality-wise and include one of the best warranties in the business, it’s still too soon to tell how well the Rondo will hold up over the years. Everything in my tester was tight and felt solid. But that doesn’t mean it’ll hold up for five or ten years.

In spite of that, I preferred the Rondo. It was more comfortable, more fun to drive and provided more straightforward controls than the Mazda5. Still, either is preferable to the bloated monstrosities they currently market as “minivans” and would probably do 95 percent of what people driving SUVs need a vehicle to do. Maybe the real minivan’s time has come again.

[Kia and Mazda provided the cars reviewed, insurance and a tank of gas.]

To that end, the previous gen Mazda6’s handsome but thoroughly forgettable shape has been replaced by a roofline that sweeps kink-free from the front fenders to the rear deck, and fenders that bulge upward and outward like those of the RX-8. It’s a sexy little thing, but there are plenty of aesthetic nits to pick.

As in many front-drive sedans, excessive front overhang spoils the proportions (Mazda’s photos favor the rear quarter view). The largest wheels accompanying the four cylinder engine—17” shoes—fail to fill the muscular fenders. Still, the new Mazda6 wears the segment’s swoopiest sheetmetal, without appearing bizarre.

Aside from a steering wheel’s homage to Wall-E’s EVA, the 6’s interior styling is less distinctive, less dramatic than its exterior. The materials are a step up, the ergonomics are excellent, and the electroluminescent instruments’ blue and red lighting (with black and silver graphics) provides Zoom with a view.

Mazda has finally caved to the American taste for space; the new Mazda6 all but matches the supersized Accord’s dimensions. But the coupe-ike roof exacts a penalty: merely adequate thigh support and limited headroom in back. If you seek rear seat comfort– or a driver’s seat with generous lateral support– shop elsewhere.

Those fearful of sliding about should consider the Touring trim level. The package offers attractive cloth center panels in the leather seats rather than the Grand Touring’s full leather. Cargo carriers will appreciate the roomy expandable trunk and its non-intrusive hinges, if not its modestly-sized opening.

The Maxda6’s features are generally in line with the competition. You can get voice-activated nav, Bluetooth and basic power adjustments for the front passenger seat— but not cushy armrests on the doors or air vents for rear seat passengers. The most curious omission: no shift buttons on the steering wheel with the automatic.

The 6’s four receives a bump from 2.3 to 2.5-liters, and now kicks out 170 horsepower. With the five-speed automatic, the four’s acceleration is adequate but uninspiring; curb weight is over 3,300 pounds, after all. With the fluid yet crisp-shifting medium-throw stick, there’s a bit more pep, but still few thrills. The engine revs smoothly to the redline, but its refinement cuts both ways. Like the old 2.3 it never seems to come on cam.

[Performance-minded Mazda buyers will choose the 6’s new 272-horsepower 3.7-liter V6— providing they can live with class-trailing 17/25 EPA ratings. FYI: The 375-horsepower Hyundai Genesis V8 offers similar efficiency Manual cog swappers also note: the ’09 six is autobox only.]

The Mazda6’s handling story is similarly uneventful—much the same as the old Mazda6. As before, the steering is light, precise and nicely weighted, with a modicum of feedback. Like most Mazdas, this one has a thinly padded steering wheel rim that asks to be guided delicately with the fingertips, rather than aggressively with the palms.

In conjunction with excellent forward visibility, the 6’s steering disguises much of the new car’s additional size and weight. In turns, roll and understeer are present but not excessive, and the overall feel is tight and precise. As before, credit goes to double wishbones up front and multiple links in back. Grip is decent, but would be better with the wider, higher-performance (but harsher riding) treads that attend the V6.

Aside from the slightly busy ride and attendant tire noise, what’s not to like? Not much. On the other hand, what’s to love? The Mazda6’s steering and handling are competent, but not engaging. Some competitors are more overtly sporty. Perhaps the Mazda’s chassis possesses a subtle excellence that requires extended exposure to fully appreciate? We’ll find out when Berkowitz spends a few days in a V6 Mazda6 later this month.

Meanwhile, brand-faithful corner carvers will want a sportier driving experience— which means there’s plenty of room for a new MazdaSpeed6. Mazda’s goal with the regular Mazda6 is to steal buyers away from Honda and Toyota. The new Mazda6 finally matches the leaders in terms of interior space and horsepower, and tops them with more dramatic styling.

That could well be enough to gain on the America’s midsize sales monsters. With its fifth attempt, even as Mustang sales decline, Mazda might finally fill Flat Rock.

We hear reports that Mazda is fueling its growth by stocking American rental companies with product. Normally, this sales strategy is a sure way to run a brand into the ground; to ensure that factories build The Least Objectionable Automobile rather than something inherently worthwhile. Not in this case. In fact, you could say that Ford's Japanese partner has created the world largest, perhaps best demo fleet for the four-cylinder Mazda6i. If you have a choice, make it your default option.

Mazda's family friendly tribute to zoom-zoom is a wake up call to the importance of great design. When picking-up our tester, I had to remind myself that this is a six-year-old model destined for the chopping block. While the Toyota Camry and Honda Accord go for derivative shapes and portly portions, Mazda's designers took bread and butter transportation and gave it a protein shake before hitting the gym.

From stem to stern, the Mazda6i offers nothing but trim proportions, sleek lines and muscular tones. Even the 6i's trippy, bubble-headed lighting pods have aged well on their (revised) midnight black backgrounds. Compared to the old 626, or its current competitors, the Mazda6 is an instant classic.

The Mazda6i's interior also shows how well a non-derivative Japanese design stands the test of time. The three spoke, leather-wrapped wheel would look at home in any BMW.  The tasty switchgear, velvety door panel inserts and distinctive oval air registers feel better in your hands than any materials in any other car in this price range. Speaking of, the dashboard's northern hemisphere comes from polymers too rich for an entry-level Lexus, much less a dowdy Camry. 

Older design or not, the Mazda6 continues to impress when your crew meets for four-portal pleasure. There's comfort for a quartet of average Joes, and it's not a bad place for a third person in the back. The large-ish trunk proves that Japan's latest redesigns add wasteful bulk and little value.  That said, the omission of a decklid assist handle should be a punishable crime: smearing a dirty paint job with a wet hand in a thunderstorm is the family sedan equivalent of changing a kid's diaper. 

And yet, the Mazda6 never stops with the shock and awe. I opened the dash-mounted coin holder, exposing a thickly flocked cubbyhole that makes the Chrysler Sebring's carpet hang its head in shame. Vault-like in construction, I felt obligated to give the useless crap in my pocket a new home. If you can find a better example of Industrial Design OCD in a sub-$25k car, buy it.

The Mazda6i's magic doesn't end when you twist the key. The base-by-name 2.3-liter four-pot is more than mediocre by nature. Its distinctive growl at idle is proof that there's a performance-minded dual exhaust underfoot. Although there's a paltry 156hp on tap, the Mazda6 revs smoothly to redline. With a willing five-speed autobox in tow, the Mazda6 offers far more spunk than its claimed 9-second run to 60mph implies.  

There's nothing wrong with sloth-like speed in a cheap sedan, as long as you can make ample use of the Big Mo. The Mazda6 compensates for its sloth (yes, sloth) with the road manners of more Germanic sports sedans. Mid-corner composure speaks volumes about a suspension tuned with level cornering and minimal understeer in mind. Thanks to the engine's flat powerband, the Mazda6 rarely pushes under a cornering load. Some praise goes to the choice gumballs: 17-inch Michelin Pilots don't come cheap; but they do come prepared.

Mazda obviously told the Larry Winget's of the world to take a hike. The good rubber makes for sublime handling, but with a finessed ride that's simply astounding. The only beef with the Mazda6's dynamics is the parking lot friendly steering: the lack of on-center steering feel in fast sweepers is a bit of a buzz kill.

And then I hit the interstate for some straight-line school of thought. Ay, there's the rub: the Mazda6 howled in protest at the upper reaches of the speed limit, filling the cabin with drones and whacking my eardrums with a constant, offbeat booming. If you're looking for a long-distance, high-speed cruiser, the 6i ain't it.

No doubt: I'd exchange the disturbingly perfect coin tray for more eyeballs in Mazda's NVH (Noise, Vibration, Harshness) department. Reputation aside, this is why the zoom-zoom sedan plays second fiddle to the almighty Camcord. Quiet is the key to Middle America's most basic necessity: a high-speed relaxation chamber to compensate for stressful work weeks, or annoying in-laws riding in the aft cabin.

Fact is, the Mazda6i is the perennial niche player. It's destined for enlightened pistonheads with a small family and an equally modest bankroll. Will the Mazda6i's sharp-looking replacement join the TSX in trading handling for marshmallow comfort? Watch this space. Meanwhile, respect, at a nice little discount.

“If the bland, cookie-cutter styling of other Crossover SUVs doesn’t suit your taste, feast your eyes on the Mazda CX-9 Grand Touring.” Contrary to Mazda’s marketing misegos, there’s a new cookie-cutter shape in town. Viewed in profile, only a learned pistonhead could distinguish the CX-9 from the host of other “sporty” CUVs; what with their pointy proboscises, apostrophe-shaped headlight clusters, steeply raked windshields, blackened B and C-pillars, oversized bling-bling wheels and fastback-styled sloping rear hatch. If the CX-9 didn’t have a dinner plate-sized boot badge, you'd easily mistake it for any number of transplanted cute-utes.

Of course, it IS a lot edgier than the Ford Edge, its sister-under-the-skin. And there’s a reason all CUVs look alike; the buyer has spoken.

Once ensconced, the CX-9 coddles today's blended families with three rows of comfortable, supportive seating. Second row legroom eclipses the Enclave’s, and the CX-9’s third row is both accessible and roomy enough for junior team members. As for larger folks, the rearmost leg and head room is, in MythBusters parlance, plausible. As a two-plus-three seater carting recidivist members of LPA (Light Packers Anonymous), skid-addling with 3500 lbs. of Ski-Doology, the CX-9’s a peach.

Aside from the too-far-forward door-mounted window switches, the CX-9’s controls are an ergonomic Zen garden. Normally, we’re amused– and not in a good way– by cowled gauges in anything other than an old Alfa or new Miata. But the CX-9’s designers carefully blended sports car cues with oversized, Volvo-esque minimalism, creating a handsome, tasteful atmos. Details have been sweated, from sensible buttonology to indirect blue lighting.

Mazda’s mavens left no stone unturned in the family pleasing techno-bauble department. But you gotta pay to play. The CX-9’s obligatory iPod-ready rear seat DVD system– complete with 11-speaker surround sound, videogame hook-ups and wireless headphones– will set you back $2560. And that’s not all. You’ve got to cough up another $2500 for the nav system and power hatch. Ouch.

For 2008, the CX-9 gets a 3.7-liter engine. The all-new six-cylinder mill puts out 273hp and stumps-up 270 ft.-lbs. of torque. In front wheel-drive configuration, Mazda’s full-sized CUV now jogs from zero to sixty in an entirely acceptable eight-ish seconds. While the sound blatting-out the CX-9’s twin pipes under hard acceleration is nowhere near as addictive as the Infiniti FX' moaning motor, the Mazda's mechanical mellifluousness is appropriately zoomy.

Yes, well, our tester's all wheel-drive system added heft (up to 4633 lbs.) and subtracted speed. I’d be surprised if a Colorado-compliant CX-9 made it from rest to sixty in less than ten seconds. Torque, schmorque; two-lane passing maneuvers still elicit sufficient butt puckering to press coal into diamonds. The CX-9’s intelligent six-speed transmission doesn’t help matters; it’s either a very slow learner or fundamentally dim-witted. But the steering does; it’s perfectly weighted and centers nicely.

According to the Mazda website, “the CX-9 delivers a driving experience like no other SUV.” Anyone who’s attempted to fling one of these lumbering behemoths down a country road knows the copywriters set the handling bar limbo low. Relatively speaking, the CX-9 is competent corner carver; the big rig stays flat. Lean and pitch motions are well controlled. But gravity (inertia?) sucks. A two-and-a-quarter ton trucklette that’s 16’8” long, 5’8” tall and 6’4” wide ain’t gonna rewrite the rules of physics (just ask Porsche).

On the positive side, ignore the advertising come-on, cool your jets and all’s well that ends well. The CX-9’s dynamics strike a satisfying compromise between perky and plush, delivering a well-refined driving experience. And accelerative challenged kiddie schleppers can cool their jets safe in the knowledge that Mazda’s deployed their safety knowledge throughout, including a full complement of Nannies, airbags aplenty and the government’s highest side and frontal impact ratings. 

Although SUV refugees can get into a CX-9 for around $30k, the mpg “savings” involved are marginal (FWD EPA 16/22). And it’s easy enough to option-up to 40 large. For a Mazda? Considering the fact that sliding behind the wheel of a minivan emasculates the domesticated North American Homo sapiens male faster than a ranch hand de-testicularizing a calf, the CX-9 has got to be the pistonhead’s sprog hauler alternative of choice. As long as you’re willing to wait your turn on the turnpike, you’re good to go.