While Lexus generally gets credit for pioneering the car-like luxury SUV, the 1998 Mercedes-Benz M-Class actually beat the RX to market by a year. Unlike the car-based RX, the original ML was too much a truck and not enough a quality vehicle. Substantial revisions were made with the 2006, and again this model year. In its third iteration, is the ‘Bama-built Benz now what it should have been from the start?

The 1998 ML320 was so plainly styled—the fascias weren’t even body color—that various Korean knock-offs looked more upscale. The 2006’s exterior was a major improvement, with the sophistication and detailing appropriate to a $40,000+ vehicle. It was also far more attractive. The 2012’s shell dials the sophistication up another notch, but isn’t as pretty. Mercedes-Benz’s current design language is busier and less fluid, and the 2012’s chunkier front fenders throw the proportions off. You’ll find a more svelte snout on competitors that must package an engine ahead of the axle. But does this matter? The same criticisms apply to all of Mercedes-Benz’s 2008+ redesigns, yet in each case, public reaction has been highly positive.

The 2012 ML’s interior doesn’t seem like much of an upgrade—until you jump from it into a 2011. Then the new interior seems significantly more solid, more sophisticated, and simply nicer—even with MB-Tex (i.e. vinyl) on the seats. It doesn’t hurt that many people will mistake MB-Tex for standard-grade leather until it fails to crack. The second-generation interior was itself a huge improvement over the downright chintzy original, so the ML has come a long way in this area.

The 2012’s exterior dimensions are almost identical to the 2011’s, while its interior dimensions are actually tighter, with an inch less headroom, an inch-and-a-half less shoulder room, and three-and-a-half inches less total legroom. The original M-Class was about as roomy as the new one (and even offered a kid-sized third row as an option) despite being over eight inches less lengthy and three inches narrower. Why is the 2012 so much less space efficient? Perhaps to improve safety and infuse the vehicle with the bank-vault solidity people expect from a Mercedes (but which was lacking from the original ML). The availability of the GL for those who want more room might also play a role.

But official specs can be deceiving. From the driver’s seat, the 2012 actually seems like a significantly larger, somewhat roomier vehicle. Credit a more distant windshield, a more massive instrument panel, and other, more subtle tweaks to the interior design. Rear seat room remains easily sufficient for adults. One thing hasn’t changed: Mercedes seats remain firmer than the luxury car norm.

For some reason, Mercedes had the odd idea that people would use its first modern SUV as an SUV (“crossover” wasn’t yet in the lexicon). So they gave it body-on-frame construction and a standard two-speed transfer case. BoF went away, and the low range gear became optional with the 2006 redesign, disappearing in the United States for 2012. The 3.5-liter gasoline V6 does gain direct injection this year, for a power bump from 268 to 302 horsepower. Good thing, as curb weight is up about 250 pounds, to a hefty 4,753. The off-road-ready original weighed a quarter-ton less. The transmission remains a seven-speed automatic and (unlike in the smaller GLK) all-wheel-drive remains standard.

Given the typical mission of midsize SUVs, the V6 feels plenty powerful, and even sounds good at high rpm. Despite the power and weight increases, EPA ratings are actually up a bit, from 16 city / 21 highway to 17/22. The 215-horsepower 1998 managed only 15/20. Still, these are incremental fuel economy improvements. For better numbers, get the 240-horsepower (455 lb-ft, vs. 273) diesel (which returns 20/27 mpg) or wait for a more efficient gas engine.

Perhaps because of its more even weight distribution and tighter damping, the ML does feels more balanced and poised than a Lexus RX, while gliding down the road about as smoothly and quietly. Some German cars continue to pound across road imperfections. Even shod with low-profile 19-inch rubber this isn’t one of them. But, like most other Mercedes, no one will mistake the ML for a driver’s car. Its ultra-light steering communicates nothing. A $5,150 Dynamic Handling Package (not on the tested vehicle) includes height-adjustable air springs, adaptive dampers, and active stabilizer bars. These no doubt reduce body roll, and perhaps they also lend the ML a sportier feel. But they also tend to be problem areas in Mercedes (based on responses to TrueDelta’s Car Reliability Survey), and an ML equipped with them won’t get the kids to school or the goods home from the mall appreciably faster.

Mercedes created the M-Class primarily for the American market—and you know what happens to German cars when they’re developed with Americans in mind. But at least the SUV’s lesser build was reflected in a lesser price. The all-wheel-drive 1998 ML320’s $34,545 base sticker undercut that of a rear-wheel-drive E320 wagon by $12,500. Very odd, considering that Detroit got hooked on SUVs because they could be sold for much higher prices than station wagons could. Over the years, M-Class prices have risen faster than E-Class prices—the ML350 now starts at $49,865. This seems justified, as materials and build quality are now roughly the same between the two lines. The SUV will still cost you about $7,500 less than the wagon. Add $3,200 for a Premium Package that includes nav, a rearview camera, auto-dimming mirrors, and memory for the driver. A Lexus RX runs about $7,500 less, a BMW X5 about the same (based on TrueDelta’s car price comparison tool).

For Mercedes-Benz, the third time seems to be the charm. The 2012 redesign removes the M-Class farther from its subpar origins. Even compared to the already much-improved second-generation model, the new one looks and feels more substantial and sophisticated. Now optimized for on-road driving, the ML outhandles the Lexus RX, while riding about as well. Exciting? Without AMG power under the hood, not in the slightest. But thoroughly pleasant, and very much what buyers in this segment are looking for. The BMW X5 and Infiniti FX are more fun to drive. The ML outsells both put together.

Eric Wheeler at Mercedes-Benz of Novi (MI) provided the vehicle. He can be reached at 248-426-9600.

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

People form lasting impressions at an early age. This might explain why, among the general population over 35, neither Audi nor BMW can match the mystique of a Mercedes. Even the bottom-of-the-US-range C300 raises eyebrows from people who’ll give an Audi A7 nary a passing glance (and who’d view spending an extra $8,000 for a hatchback as lunacy). But will this continue to be the case with subsequent generations, or will Mercedes follow in the footsteps of Cadillac? A brand is only as strong as its weakest link. Does the C300 justify the cachet attached to its three-pointed star?

The previous C-Class, the W203, was a prettier car. But it was also a plainer one. The W204, with its squarer cut, crisper creases, and more complicated graphics, has considerably more road presence and, of at least equal importance, looks more expensive. Most important of all: it’s widely recognizable as a Mercedes-Benz. Proof, in case you need it, that Mercedes retains latitude to break with current convention: a standing hood ornament. A Cadillac that attempted the same would be dismissed as hopelessly out-of-touch.

The interior similarly won’t win any beauty contests but through the sophistication and sheer quantity of details sufficiently suggests you’re not in a mainstream car. Materials were upgraded with this year’s refresh, and generally avoid any charges of seeming cheap (though the HVAC dials could feel more solid). Leather seating is increasingly rare on Mercedes-Benz lots, and you won’t find it inside this $43,980 specimen. But people are prone to assumptions, and the MB-Tex vinyl is hard to distinguish from the standard grade, heavily processed leather. How many people have owned a Mercedes without ever realizing that their upholstery was petroleum-based?

In an attempt to minimize the number of buttons by pairing a console-mounted knob with a multifunctional display, BMW has iDrive, Audi has MMI, and Mercedes has COMAND. That latter is neither as sophisticated nor as easy to use as the latest iterations of the others, but as with all such systems, you’ll eventually sort it out. Or not. More of a bother: Mercedes doggedly continues to position the cruise control lever where other manufacturers position the turn signal (the stalk is mounted just  little lower.) Even towards the end of my week in the car I unintentionally activated the system multiple times per day. Also in need of tweaking: power seat adjustments that react too quickly for frustration-free fine-tuning.

A more positive sign that you’re in a Mercedes: the doors latch closed with a solid mechanical thunk. Though considerable engineering hours were expended refining this sound, the car comes by it honestly. The C300’s body structure oozes rock-hard solidity. Crash tests back up this impression. In a 35 mph frontal offset crash test, the structure deforms by only one to three centimeters. The side impact structural deformation figures are even more impressive. (Note: Lower numbers are better in these stats.) Mercedes are arguably unworthy of their reputation in some ways, but safety isn’t one of them.

The driving position in the C300 could hardly be better, with a more open view forward than you’ll find from behind the BMW 3-Series’s more imposing instrument panel. (My suspicion: Cadillac studied the C-Class very closely when designing the architecture for the new Cadillac ATS.) Opinions vary about Mercedes-Benz’s traditional sehr flach, sehr fest Sitze. Some people will find them properly supportive for hours. Others will simply find them flat and hard. Count me among the latter group, perhaps because I took no long trips in the car. Thankfully the seatback curves more than the bottom cushion, and so provides decent lateral support. Typical of the segment, the rear seat will accommodate adults in a pinch. A little more toe room under the front seats would go a long way. For long distance room and comfort you’ll want to step up to the E-Class or even the S-Class.

The C300 4Matic’s specs aren’t promising. While the V6s in mainstream midsize sedans start at 3.5 liters, that in the Mercedes is a mere 3.0. The mill’s 228 horsepower (at 6,000 rpm) and 221 pound feet of torque (from 2,750 to 5,000) must contend with 3,737 pounds of curb weight. And yet, through whatever magic that made the 1990s S300 viable, acceleration feels more than adequate even right off the line, and spirited with a heavy foot north of 4,000 rpm. The seven-speed automatic isn’t the quickest or slickest, but the right ratio is always in there somewhere. Two modes are provided, E and S. I could detect no difference between them. Though much has changed over the decades, the engine note retains traces of Mercedes’ traditional mechanical thrum—it doesn’t sound like any old six.

All-wheel drive is exclusively available on the C300 and no rear-drive option exists. The rear-wheel-drive C-Class is offered with either a 201-horsepower, 229-pound-feet turbocharged 1.8-liter four-cylinder or a 302-horsepower 3.5-liter V6. Though the latter is no doubt a strong performer, few dealers stock it. If even the 3.5 isn’t strong enough for you, there’s also the AMG C63 with a 451-horsepower V8.

The argument against the six: fuel economy. A larger, heavier, and more powerful BMW 528i xDrive manages EPA ratings of 22 city, 32 highway. The next 3-Series xDrive should do even better. An Audi A4 quattro: 21/29. And the 333-horsepower Audi S4: 18/28. The C300 4Matic: only 18 city, 25 highway. The trip computer backed up these subpar numbers, reporting about 20 in suburban driving. The C300’s six might punch above its specs, but this comes at a price.

The C300 is available in both Sport and Luxury trims. I’ve steered people towards the former over the years, as it adds a body kit and more athletic suspension tuning at a very un-German price: free. Scratch that: this year the better looking, better handling C-Class variant actually costs a little less. For their own reasons (that I cannot fathom) Mercedes provided the latter. Even in Luxury trim the suspension is firm enough to remain composed in enthusiastic driving—and to fidget on some roads, despite shocks that allegedly adapt to road conditions. Power is shunted to the front wheels only when the rears slip, and even then the torque split is 45/55, so the feel remains that of a rear-wheel-drive car—complete with tail-out oversteer on slick surfaces. (Don’t worry, the apparently undefeatable stability control will intervene.)

The biggest problem, in either trim: light steering that feels numb even compared to others I’ve described as numb. As in the current E-Class, the steering wheel conveys virtually nothing about the direction the front wheels are pointed or the degree to which they’re slipping. As a result there’s little joy—and even less confidence—in exercising the capable chassis.

Don’t care to exercise the chassis? Simply want to quickly consume mile after mile of concrete slab stretching straight as far as the eye can see, and beyond? Then the Mercedes is in its element and performs admirably. The C300 isn’t silent as a tomb inside, but low quality noises are filtered out. Should you become drowsy, a standard system will detect this and do its best to wake you up.

The tested car listed for $43,980, including $1,515 for sparkly white paint (another sign that Mercedes was trying to handicap the car). A different metallic shade will set you back only $720. Don’t need the embrace of a telematics system? Then you can shave another $660, bringing the sticker down to $42,525. For fancy features like nav, xenons, and passive entry you’ll have to tick more boxes. Seem steep? Well, a similarly-equipped four-cylinder Audi A4 is only about $1,000 less, a much smaller difference than in past decades. While Mercedes still has a sizable edge in cachet among the masses, they’re no longer trying to charge more for it.

And costs down the road? While some Mercedes remain notoriously unreliable (e.g. the SUVs), the C-Class isn’t among them. The W204 C-Class consistently has been about average, based on responses to TrueDelta’s Car Reliability Survey.

Mercedes-Benz’s image isn’t entirely in its favor. As with Cadillac in the past, many people who could afford a Mercedes—and who do buy similarly-priced competitors—simply cannot picture themselves in one. If these people got over their preconceptions and took the C300 for a drive they’d find…a car with a very solid structure, but little else to separate it from the crowd. The seats might prove supportive on long drives, but around town they just feel hard. The 3.0-liter V6 feels like a larger engine, but will also drink some much more powerful engines under the table. The chassis is sure-footed, but the steering is disconcertingly numb. The electronics are sophisticated, but the same can be said of German competitors. We’re back to that solid structure and safety. Seeking a rolling bank vault with tidy dimensions? Then the C300 is your car. But is this enough, when even Volvo feels the need to talk naughty?

Mercedes-Benz provided the car with insurance and a tank of gas.

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

Luxury roadsters have always been niche vehicles. With the economic implosion over the last decade, that niche has become even smaller. Last year the Mercedes SLK and BMW Z4 each sold less than 3,500 units on our shores, down from over 10,000 each back in 2006 and Canadian sales are roughly a tenth of that. While Mercedes is likely crying in their delicious geflügelsuppe, roadster shoppers benefit by being able to drive one of the most exclusive Mercedes models available on our shores. While the last model awkwardly aped the unholy union of a Mercdes F1 car and a bottlenose dolphin, the new model sells itself with sexy new sheet metal, 29 MPG on the highway and a $54,800 base price.

Now in its third generation Mercedes has finally found a style that fits the SLK. The first generation SLK in 1997 was described by all my college buddies as “cute” – not exactly how a dude wants his potential ride described. The second generation in 2005 struck me as more awkward than Ugly Betty in a southern beauty pageant. I’m not sure what the 2005-2011 SLK looked like inside because I couldn’t bring myself to get close enough to find out. Fortunately for the 50-something, six-figure earning, multiple car owning target buyer as well as the 30-something Silicon Valley professional, the SLK’s new duds are decidedly delicious. From the aggressive hood to the pert little trunk, the SLK looks like the hot love child of an SLS AMG and the recently announced 2013 SL550. Adding to the appeal is one of the best expressions of Mercedes new-found love for angles that (to me at least), is considerably more aggressive than the Porsche Boxster’s slippery sheet metal.

Luxury cars are all about options and features, and the SLK is no different. Our tester wore one of two optional wheel packages; the 5-spoke “AMG” wheels included in the $2,500 “Sport Package.” While AMG doesn’t use said wheels on any AMG car, they are quite attractive, as are the $500 wheels in the stand-alone wheel upgrade. Either option will get you 5-spoke rims and identical tire selections. The sport package also adds a more aggressive (and more SL-esque) front and rear bumper, faux-carbon fiber gauges, and more expressive side sill treatments. Our tester also wore a $720 premium metallic paint job, and had the $1090 lighting package which added bi-xenon headlamps that steer into corners and headlamp washers. The Xenon lamp upgrade seriously aids vision at night, and if you are balking at an $1090 option, it is time to pick a cheaper car.

According to Mercedes, SLK stands for “sportlich leicht kurz.” In English this means sporty, light and short. 300+ HP? Sporty: check. But at 3400lbs, light must be a relative term. The SLK is 17-inches shorter than a Toyota corolla, 10-inches shorter than a Boxster, and 3-inches shorter than a Golf, and the “short” part becomes obvious when anyone over 6-feet tall tries to gain entry into the SLK with the top up. You don’t so much get into the SLK as “put the SLK on.” Despite being a tight entry (due as much to the dimensions as the low ride height) once inside, the 38-inches of headroom and 42.5-inches of leg room are similar to the baby-Porsche and even a Volvo C70 (a four-seat hard-top convertible). Being 6-feet tall, I had no problems getting comfortable in the SLK. My six-foot-five friend however fit snugly ( yet with ample leg room) and found the ride a bit more claustrophobic with the lid up.

The SLK350’s cabin is all high rent as long as you don’t look skyward. Oddly enough some of the mechanicals of the two-piece folding hard-top remain completely uncovered with the lid closed, something you don’t even see in the bargain basement Chrysler convertibles. Aside from this haptic mis-step, the rest of the interior is absolutely top-notch from the soft, cross-stitched leather seats to the thick-rimmed, flat-bottomed sport steering wheel. Our model was equipped with the standard aluminum trim which many reviewers seem to favor, but I’d pony up the $990 to get the burl walnut trim to satisfy my deforestation desires. The real-tree upgrade includes highly lacquered walnut door and center console trim as well as a wood/leather steering wheel and wood shift knob. Strangely not available at any price is Mercedes’ excellent radar cruise control and collision warning system dubbed “Distronic Plus.”

Since our tester was equipped with the aforementioned “Sport Package,” our interior was bathed in red ambient lighting from the doors and a glowing red stripe down both sides of the center console. Also included was the $2,590 “Premium Package” which brings a few options that really ought to be standard on a $54,000 car, namely: the iPod/MP3 player interface and heated seats. On the flip side, the package does also buy the 11-speaker, 500-watt Logic 7 sound system by Harman/Kardon and a pair of “Airscarfs” (yes, I’m told that is the correct plural). The up-level sound system is as crisp as the Logic 7 sound systems in the rest of the top-tier Mercedes lineup but it lacks any bass punch at all. Apparently there was no room to squeeze a subwoofer so if thumping bass tunes are required for your cruising, you might want to look elsewhere. As gimmicky as the “Airscarf” sounds, they proved worthy of the name and kept our topless napes warm as December temperatures in California “plummeted” into the 40s.

Rounding out the gadget list is the $2,150 “Multimedia Package”, also known as Mercedes COMAND. The system comes with XM radio, XM weather (and a short 6 month subscription), voice controlled navigation, voice controlled Bluetooth phone interface, 10GB of usable storage for your music, an SD card reader, and a 6-disc DVD/CD changer. If you have read any of my other late-model Mercedes reviews you will know I’m not the biggest COMAND fan, I find it somewhat awkward and a decent step behind iDrive. I’d rather have COMAND than nothing, but the price tag is a bitter pill to swallow. Also on our option list was the $760 dual-zone climate control option, $650 for keyless-go and a whopping $970 for ultrasonic parking sensors. While parking sensors on something as big as a size-10 cross-trainer seems silly, rearward visibility isn’t that great with the lid closed so you might want to consider coughing up the cash before bashing your $60,000 roadster into a pole, or accidentally cracking the center surround speaker with your elbow as I did. Oops.

Click here to view the embedded video.

If the options above have your head spinning already, as they say on TV: but wait! There’s more! While the SLK doesn’t have a “sunroof” that opens like the VW EOS, in the front section of the two-piece hard top you still have some choices. You can opt for the basic all-metal lid, a “panorama sunroof” which is a fixed, slightly tinted piece of polycarbonate for $500, or the $2,500 variable tint sunroof dubbed “Magic Sky,” which, at its darkest setting, comes as close as you can get to an actual cover in the SLK. Our tester had the $500 plastic porthole option and I have to say, I’d skip it or jump up to the active window. (Given the price, just skip). On a bright sunny day I found myself jamming envelopes, papers, anything I could get my hands on, into the seams around the “sunroof” to block the hot sun and glare. Regardless of your choice, the SLK350 goes topless in 21-seconds flat.

Once the two-piece top is stowed, trunk space drops from 10.1 cubic feet to 6.4. While I find this number a bit disappointing given that there are no back seats to use as a padded cargo area, it is on par with a wide variety of four-seat convertibles and significantly better than the 1.99 cubic feet the Infiniti G37 convertible is left with. There is just about enough room for a weekend away as I was able to fit one computer bag, one camera backpack, and one carry-on rollerbag in the trunk with the top down. Since Mercedes doesn’t offer a feature like Volvo where the roof segments lift up and out of the way to make cargo retrieval easier, the top must be closed to stow or retrieve those larger bags. The Boxster on the other hand gives you 9.9 cubic feet of cargo space at all times, but splits it into his and hers trunks in the front and rear. For safe topless driving the new SLK350 also includes head airbags that pop out of the sides of the seat, active headrests and tiny roll-over hoops behind the seats.

Putting out 302HP at a lofty 6,500 RPM and 273 lb-ft of twist at 3,500 RPM, the new engine drops the SLK’s sprint to 60 by just over half a second (to 5.06 seconds) compared to the former SLK350, thanks to a broader torque curve and a reworked transmission. In addition to being a hair faster, the new 3.5L V6 features a 60-degree bank angle making it considerably smoother than the outgoing 90-degree V6. Joining the new engine is a revised Mercedes 7-speed automatic with three drives modes: Eco, Sport and Manual. As with other Mercedes products, Eco mode causes the transmission to be reluctant to downshift but supposedly improves economy by 7% in mixed driving. Sport mode makes the transmission hold a lower gear for longer and in addition allows this new 7-speed unit to downshift directly from 7th to 3rd for improves padding performance. “Manual” attempts to replicate the paddle shifting tendencies of Infiniti and Jaguar with rev-matched downshifts. Unfortunately the Mercedes transmission has absolutely no sense of urgency when it comes to the flappy-paddles and treats flaps like mere suggestions, not commands. Just leave the transmission in Sport and mash the pedal or put it in Eco and enjoy the “greener” leanings of the new V6. For 2012 EPA numbers are up from 18/25 MPG to 20/29 MPG, and in our 578 miles with the SLK we averaged a respectable 24 miles per gallon.

While the SLK’s primary mission is to be a stylish luxury roadster that’s a cheaper alternative to the six-figure SL, the 2012 baby-Benz makes a compelling argument against the likes of the Porsche Boxster S. The optional ($990) dynamic handling package which includes a variable suspension system and a torque-vectoring rear axle is an absolute most for anyone that wants to have a bit of fun in the twisties and remain parallel to the lane lines. The well-weighted steering, balanced chassis and an engine that sounds like a banshee when pressed to the limit, make getting sideways in the SLK easy, entertaining, slightly unexpected, thoroughly butt-clenching and strangely addictive. Compared to the Boxster S, the more compliant suspension, narrower 225-width front and 245-width rear rubber and nearly 400lb heavier curb weight mean the SLK will never handle as well as the small Porsche (or indeed a Subaru WRX STi that was my mountain dance-partner for a short while) but in my heart of hearts I would have to say I prefer the softer GT characteristics of the SLK. If crazy is what you seek, the SLK55 AMG is dropping soon with a 412HP 5.5L V8 under the hood and a rumored base price around $70,000.

Speaking of pricing, our SLK started at $54,800 and ended up at $67,565 after options. ($720 Diamond White Metallic paint, $630 Bengal Red Premium Leather, $2590 premium package, $1070 lighting package, $2150 Multimedia Package, $500 Panorama Roof, $2500 Sport Package, $760 dual-zone climate control and $970 “parktronic” parking sensors). Price aside, roadsters are such a niche market that somehow the first and second generation SLKs came and went without TTAC taking one for a spin. If the sales numbers are anything to go by, the same happens on dealer lots.  Largely forgotten by shoppers who lay down similar cash for E350s, ML350s or GL350s at Mercedes dealers, buyers are walking right past one of the best Mercedes models available. Forget about the school run, forget about the trailer you never tow and buy an SLK350 as your commuter car. After all, a pair of commuters in an SLK can drive in the 3+ HOV lanes in California and Texas. Sounds practical to me.

Statistics as tested

0-30: 2.08 Seconds

0-60: 5.06 Seconds

1/4 Mile: 13.46 @ 105.5 MPH

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

I appreciate the novelty of a new design as much as the next guy, but have never understood the four-door-coupé. I mean, aren’t these terms mutually exclusive? A coupé can’t have four doors and a car with four doors can’t be a coupé? Mercedes started this conundrum with the CLS back in 2004, and then Volkswagen decided to jump on the bandwagon to bolster Passat sales with the CC in 2008. It was only a matter of time before VAG decided to compete with the CLS head on with the A7. After all, Audi has had model envy for years, and if they are to stay on track with world domination, they need to attack the mainline Germans at every body style. Not one to rest on laurels, Mercedes has redesigned the CLS for 2011. Michael Karesh wrangled an A7 out of Audi back in July, and Mercedes let me take theirs for a week. Let’s see if the CLS has what it takes to reign supreme in this extremely small niche.

The new CLS, like the outgoing model is essentially a Mercedes E-Class styling exercise. From the outside, the new CLS is larger than its predecessor by an inch in almost every dimension. Mercedes’ new love of angles mixed with curves is an attractive blend of Bentley, Jaguar XJ and “a whole lot” of old CLS. When the old CLS was released back in 2004, I thought to myself “it looks like it was laid,” and I wasn’t thinking about eggs. The new Merc’s sheet metal strikes an aggressive pose from almost any angle but the rear end still looks a bit pinched-off. On the bright side, the all-LED headlamps look like they could pierce your soul; and that’s what I want in a German car. The Audi A7 on the other hand is almost boring in comparison. Sure, the A7 apes the R8’s haunches, but the front is decidedly pedestrian A3/A4/A5/A6/A8/A-insert-your-number-here.

Flamers, get your torches ready! Let’s dive into the interior. “Got headroom?” No, headroom in the rear is far from impressive, but who cares? This is a coupé after all, so the rear seats have little impact on my impression of the car. Please note that the primary mission of the four-door coupé is not to carry four in comfort, it is to carry four “when required”. As a result, both the A7 and CLS “suffer” from limited headroom in the back, but what are those seats really for? Not the kids. No, the seats are for business lunches where you jam someone in the back for a 5-minute trip to Il Forniao and wow them with your car’s acceleration. The CLS accomplishes this task with ease, the A7 however feels flustered. More on that in a bit.

Despite pricing the CLS above the E, the majority of the interior bits and pieces are pinched from the E rather than the more expensive S, including the E’s fairly small COMMAND screen and controls. Also lifted from the E are the steering wheel, seat controls and window switches. Thankfully Mercedes borrowed only the high-rent parts for use in the CLS. The snazzy switchgear conspires with the stitched dashboard to make the CLS interior a considerable improvement over the E’s haphazard fit and finish. The A7 on the other hand seems to borrow more heavily from the A8 than the A6 with an interior that is top-notch, decidedly more modern and perhaps even less German than the Mercedes..

About that flustered A7, here’s the reason: Audi may have decided to compete with the CLS head-on in terms of interior and exterior design, but (in the American market at least) the engine specs tilt the table heavily in Mercedes’ favor. This is because under the hood of the CLS550 beats the same all-new 4.6L twin-turbo V8 as the CL550 we reviewed back in September. The new M278 engine uses lightweight aluminum construction, direct-injection, variable valve timing and twin intercooled turbochargers (delivering up to 12.9psi of boost) to paradoxically increase horsepower by 5% to 402 HP, torque by 14% to 443 lb-ft while reducing fuel consumption and CO2 emissions by some 20%. Not a bad trade statistically.  The A7 on the other hand has yet to be blessed with the long rumored VAG turbo V8, making the only model currently available in the USA the 3.0TFSI trim which uses a 3.0L 90-degree V6 mated to a supercharger to yield an impressive (yet paling in comparison) 310 HP and 325 lb-ft.  When you take into account the A7 Quattro’s heavier curb weight of 4,210lbs vs 4,158lbs for the RWD CLS, you would be right in thinking this big Benz is a rocket ship. (When equipped with 4Matic AWD, as was our tester, the weight increases to a not-too-crazy 4,268lbs.)

While the Audi A7 uses the latest ZF 8-speed transmission, Mercedes has stuck to their tried-and-true in house designed 7-speed automatic. We can be thankful of two things in regards to the 7-speed: it hunts far less than the ZF 8-speed unit, and Mercedes thankfully used a torque converter instead of a clutch ala some recent AMG products. If you opt for one of the AMG wheel packages Mercedes ($760 or $1,260) Mercedes will throw in a manual shift mode for your steering wheel paddles. Since the A7 comes only in Quattro guise on our shores, we requested the CLS in 4Matic to get the comparison as even as possible. Out on the drag strip the A7’s 5.4 second 0-60 time proved optimistic with the car actually yielding 5.5-5.6 second times. On paper this appears to compete well with the CLS550, however, our 4Matic tester delivered 4.3 second runs to 60 back-to-back with heat soak only knocking the times down to a maximum of 4.5 with repeated runs. We were unable to test the RWD CLS550’s 0-60 time ,but I don’t expect it to be much higher for most drivers despite the reduced weight and loss; with this much power, traction is your enemy. I should point out that 4.3 seconds is faster than a decent number of Mercedes’ late model AMG products. Speaking of AMG, because the CLS63 AMG is RWD only, I was unable to get much lower than 4.2 seconds during a brief flirt with a dealer provided vehicle. With Audi expected to release a turbo charged V8 S7 at some point, stay tuned for a rematch.
Coupés are supposed to be all about spirited driving on the windy roads of California’s central coast. This is where the differences in design between the A7 and CLS become more apparent. The A7, much like the A6 on which it is based, may now have a rear-biased Quattro system, but design is still front heavy. The combination of a heavy nose and a two-foot larger turning-circle make the A7 a chore to steer on the tight and questionably-cambered corners of Highway 1. The CLS on the other hand may deliver less road feel and a more compliant ride, but the tendency to “plow” less frequently leads to a decidedly reduced pucker-factor on roads where “plowing”  is  followed by a 400ft plunge into the Pacific ocean. How much does this really matter? Not much for 99% of drivers honestly. While the 1% may rave over the CLS’ road manners, the other 99% will probably find the CLS’s air suspension seals the deal.

Dogs may be man’s best friend, but I’d take a snazzy infotainment system any day, so would many luxury shoppers by all accounts. This is where the sharp dressed, quick off the line CLS loses to the Audi in a big way. Sure, the CLS550 has DistronicPlus cruise control, lane departure warning and a navigation system. The problem is COMMAND. It’s old, it’s slow, the screen is small and the graphics haven’t been updated in some time. It is the first generation Rio MP3 player to Apple’s iPod Touch. Audi on the other hand has stuffed the A8’s large 8-inch high resolution MMI system into the A7. While I have to say the MMI system is far harder to learn than iDrive, it is still miles ahead of COMMAND. If ease of use is not enough to sway you, it also has the CLS beat on the graphics front. Audi decided that the BMWesque 3D topographic maps weren’t fancy enough and teamed up with Google to put satellite imagery on their maps that is constantly updated via an embedded 3G cellular connection. Also on offer is the ability to use Google’s massive database to search for addresses and points of interest. The system works very well if you are in a 3G coverage area, “eventually” if you are in a 2G area, and not at all if you are out in the middle of nowhere (which is apparently where I live). Fear not however, it is backed up by a traditional hard drive based nav database. While this all sounds good, nobody was able to tell me how much this Google connectivity would cost me monthly and the MMI “finger gesture pad” is about as useful as Lexus’ mouse doohickey. Read: just give me some buttons.

Cargo capacity and rear seat accommodations are usually not a huge deal for two-door coupé shoppers, but the four-door buyer may want to take a quartet golfing someday. The CLS delivers a respectable 15.3 cu ft which can easily accommodate clubs for four. The A7, as a hatchback, was made with practicality in mind and offers 17.7cu ft with the cargo cover in place, 24 without, and thanks to standard folding rear seats and the hatchback design, it is possible to stuff a large BBQ from Home Depot in the trunk. (I didn’t say it would close however) The CLS’s rear thrones also fold (a $440 option), but the cargo “hole” created by their contortion is fairly small. Rear passenger room is more of a mixed bag than the trunk. Both the A7 and CLS deliver 36 inches of headroom out back but suffer from rear seats that are a hair more reclined than you would find in a sedan (this helps it seem bigger.) While the A7 does provide 2-inches more rear leg room, because of the head room is no larger than the CLS, it didn’t seem to help “normally-proportioned” tall people fit. If however your passengers are all-legs, the A7 is your better buy.

Buyers of $80,000 luxury cars still seem to care about fuel economy, so let’s talk numbers. My daily commute is 53 miles one-way and involves 30% rural mountain driving, 40% freeway at an average of 75MPH, 30% city streets and a 2,200ft mountain pass. The CLS550 4Matic over 641 miles averaged 22.2 on my daily commute and saw around 26MPG on a 40 mile trip on a level highway at the speed limit. The A7 in comparison averaged 26.3 MPG over 860 miles and 33MPG on that same level-highway trip. While the CLS doesn’t deliver the frugality of the A7, I can forgive it because of the extra hundred ponies under the hood.

Our CLS550 wore a base price of $71,300, however as ours was loaded with everything from 4Matic to LED headlamps, our tester’s out-the-door price was $82,765. A comparably equipped E550 sedan would cost $73,265 so the increase in style costs CLS shoppers about $9,500. The Audi A7 in comparison starts at $59,250 but lacks the standard equipment the base CLS posesses. Comparably equipped to our CLS tester, an A7 would have rung in at $78,605 or only about $4,000 cheaper. (As Michael Karesh pointed out, the A7’s fashion penalty over the A6 is $8,000.) Unless you are shopping for the value (at which point you’d have decided to just buy a regular sedan) the E550’s $4,000 premium over the A7 and ho-hum infotainment system seem a small price to pay for the CLS550’s performance.

You know the phrase: bigger is better, faster is better. Always. But is it? I’m the kind of shopper that a company like Mercedes loves: I option the car up to the gills when I buy, and I always get the fastest version available. Until now. With the CLS550’s twin-turbo monster under the hood, I do believe Mercedes has outdone themselves and in the process made their own AMG brand less relevant. The CLS is only a hair slower, and when shod with similar rubber handles almost as well as the AMG model for considerably less cash. Is the AMG faster? Yes. Nicer? Yes, but, is it enough to justify the premium? That’s a tough sell for me. On the other hand, the CLS550 is without a doubt the king of the four-door coupé market.

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

Statistics as tested

0-60: 4.32 Seconds

1/4 Mile: 12.7 Seconds @ 113 MPH

Fuel Economy: over 641 miles, 22.2MPG

Why is the CL so exclusive? Aside from the fact that personal luxury coupés generally sell like ice to Eskimos in the US, the answer is mostly price. The “base“, CL550 starts at $113,150. Distinction is alluring to premium luxury buyers; the price affords them a level of uniqueness that can’t be found at the $80,000 pricing level. Strangely enough, what appealed most to the luxury car shoppers I quizzed at a local luxo-barge meet, was the CL’s blend-in-ability. When the CL arrived, it did so with a much lower sense of occasion than the (cheaper) Range Rover Supercharged I had the week previously. Sure the front grille is menacing, but the overall profile is swoopy and sedate. The CL just doesn’t lend itself toward becoming “rolling bling” like an Escalade or GL and for that I am eternally grateful. Instead of bling, the CL exudes grace and large proportions. The side profile is dominated by sashless windows and absent b-pillars. For 2011 Mercedes has tweaked the exterior with a revised front and rear clip integrating the ever-so-popular LED running lamps. The real changes for this year however are under the hood.

Although the model number remains the same, Mercedes tossed out the 5.5L V8 in the CL550 in favor of an all-new 4.6L twin-turbo V8 engine. You may be wondering why the 2011 model isn’t called a CL460 (I know I still am). Nobody seems to know why the name remains, other than to placate buyers who might turn their noses up at trading in their old CL550 for a lower number. Sound silly? You’ve never spoken with a certain segment of car buyers.

Proving once and for all there is a replacement for displacement, this new smaller V8 puts out 429HP and 516lb-ft of twist (47HP and 125lb-ft more torque than the outgoing V8) and does it all with a power curve as flat as Kansas. If you own last year’s CL63, it may be time to trade-down to a CL550. Our tester served up 60MPH in 4.6 seconds, only one-tenth slower than a 2010 CL63 I was able to get my hands on. If that’s not enough of a reason here’s another: The CL550’s standard 4Matic AWD means I arrived at 60 in 4.6 seconds with zero drama on wet pavement, broken pavement, or around a corner. Try that in your CL63.

Should you be in the market for something faster and have an even fatter wallet, Mercedes offers not one but three engines above the CL550 to choose from including no fewer than two AMG trims. What’s the cost of this extra thrust you ask? The CL63 AMG is one-rung up from the CL550 at $150,250, and it gets you to 60 in 4.4 with its 536HP blown V8. If 12 cylinders are more your style, the 510HP CL600 will scoot you to freeway speed in 4.5 for $157,000. The big-daddy CL65 AMG is the king of the pack at $209,300 sporting an insane 621HP, 739lb-ft twin-turbo V12 good for a 4.2 second sprint to 60 [Ed: and is the last two-door available with this Götterdämmerung of an engine].

The CL550 may be the “cheap” CL, but in my mind it seems to have nailed the personal luxury coupé as squarely as its fire-breathing siblings have missed the mark. The CL550’s air suspension delivers a glassy smooth ride, and while it does seemingly little to quell body roll in the corners, the grip is still more than adequate. The real springs found in the other CL models may sound sporty (and they do improve the corner-carving ability) but a stiff suspension is at odds with both the [almost] 5,000lb curb weight of the V12 and the CL’s luxury pretensions. Similarly the 7-speed auto found in the CL550 suits the role of a large luxury coupé to perfection with shifts that are fairly quick and glassy smooth. This is far more than can be said of ye-olde 5-speed that connects the V12s to the rear or the herky-jerkey “Speedshift” contraption the CL63 is “blessed” with.

Aside from the mechanical differences, few technological goodies separate the CL550 from the upper-crust CLs. The CL550 still comes standard with standard navigation, stitched dashboard bits, key-less go, iPod/USB interface and all manner of standard luxury amenities. Although options like the radar cruise control, split-view video screen, massaging seats and heated steering wheel may be included in the other CL models; you can get essentially everything in the base CL as well, with the exception of the heavily bolstered AMG seats with quilted leather. If you recall my review of the S400 hybrid , I complained that the S-Class’ interior just didn’t look special enough when compared to the LS600. I was afraid the CL would give me the same let down but I was pleasantly surprised to find the CL delivers all the same shapes, but covered with stitched leather and pleather. The extra effort dresses up the interior more than I could have expected and easily brings the CL into firm competition with interiors from Maserati and Aston Martin.

Let’s talk gizmos. The Mercedes Command system is not quite as intuitive as the BMW iDrive and isn’t capable of voice controlling your music device in the same way Ford’s SYNC product can, but all is not lost for the tech weenies like me. The optional split-view screen allows the driver to see the navigation system and the passenger to see something else like watch a DVD or play with the radio. The system works far better than I had expected with the display remaining completely crisp while in operation and totally indistinguishable from the regular command system screen.

The iPod interface worked well with my iPods and my iPhone4, but it is a little strange that Mercedes doesn’t put track forward/backward buttons on the steering wheel instead making you use the in-speedometer menu and buttons to change tracks. The Navigation system’s voice command system utilizes a very natural voice and readily understood every address I threw at it, more than can be said for many luxury car systems. In addition to the usual goodies, the Command system lets you adjust all manner of strange options you didn’t know could be adjusted like the footwell temperature, how “direct” you want the air blowing on your personage, what color you like your LEDs to glow and how high you want your trunk lid to open.

So what’s it like to drive? I should first state that I have a large soft spot for large, softly sprung vehicles that go like stink. If that’s what you like in a luxury car, the CL delivers in spades. Body roll is well controlled even on the twistiest of mountain highways, and despite the porky curb weight, the wide tires deliver plenty of grip. When you do try to toss this 5,000 luxurious pillow into the corners, the chassis is very predictable and rather forgiving when you reach the limit of adhesion. In the end however there is just no denying the laws of physics; the hefty curb weight of the CL550 (the lightest CL) consorts with the numb steering to make the CL seem less than nimble than it is.

Still, I wouldn’t call a large Bentley coupé “nimble” either, and with these prices in mind, it should be no surprise that the CL competes with the likes of Aston Martin, Maserati and Bentley. A BMW 6 you ask? Too cheap. This means cross shop¬pers are logically looking for something slightly cheaper and more discrete than a Continental or Roller, and in this light the CL550 might even be considered a value. While words like “practical” and “value” should never be used in the same sentence as a $126,000 car (as tested), it is the fact that the close siblings (CL600, CL63 and CL65) are so rare and only a few tenths faster that the best “deal” under 200K might well be the CL550. How’s that for a TTAC bombshell?

Mercedes provided the vehicle for our review, insurance and one tank of gas.
Statistics as tested
0-30: 1.91 Seconds
0-60: 4.6 Seconds
1/4 Mile: 12.9@106

“No model change in the history of Mercedes-Benz has ever seen so many new developments introduced in one fell swoop,” promises Dr. Thomas Weber, Member of the Board of Management responsible for Group Research and Head of Development, Mercedes-Benz Cars. “Future B-Class customers will benefit from this quantum leap in terms of exemplary low fuel consumption and CO2 emissions combined with driving pleasure, plenty of space and the highest standard of safety that has ever been available in this class.”

The new B-Klasse will be making its way to European dealers in November 2011.

And in case you haven’t seen enough pictures of the B-Class already, here it is, the biggest B-Class picture collection in recorded history.

To highlight the “BMW difference,” the marque traveled from dealer to dealer with not only the redesigned X3 but a few competing compact crossovers as well. Among the bunch, one stuck out as not like the others. But it was the Mercedes-Benz GLK350, not the BMW. Different in a good way? Well, that depends on what you’re looking for.

First off, styling. Unlike other compact crossovers, the Mercedes GLK350 makes no attempt to look sleek or even conventionally attractive. Instead, it’s for those who want the chunky look of the classic G-Wagen, without the six-figure price tag or horrendous fuel economy. Sure, there’s an aesthetic similarity to the related C-Class, as this model was introduced only a couple of years ago (as an early 2010), but with an upright, square profile that’s all truck. (Or all late model Subaru Forester, if we’re being less charitable.)

Inside, the GLK350 is similarly much more trucky than competitors. There’s hardly a curve to be seen, and the overall ambiance one of durability and functionality rather than luxury (despite plentiful wood trim). The MB-Tex upholstery should last much longer than leather—while fooling many who don’t suspect vinyl in a $46,000 car. As in other Mercedes, the cruise control lever is easily mistaken for the turn signals.

The GLK’s windshield is upright in the traditional SUV idiom. The instrument panel is tall—all but the tallest drivers will want to raise the seat. The pillars all around are thinner than most these days. The seats are firm. In back, there’s less rear legroom than in the revised X3 despite the GLK’s upright packaging. Shins can uncomfortably contact the lower edge of the front seatback. In terms of cargo space, the GLK joins the Audi Q5 and BMW X3 at the low end of the segment’s range.

Like many other Mercedes, the GLK350’s powertrain is a 268-horsepower 3.5-liter V6 paired with a manually-shiftable seven-speed automatic. The numbers are competitive, but subjectively this powertrain feels somewhat sluggish compared to the Audi, the BMW, and even the Lexus. There’s enough power here to move the GLK350 4Matic’s 4,200 pounds, but the throttle and transmission programming prioritize something other than on-road responsiveness. Unlike in the BMW, rear-wheel-drive is available, but most buyers will no doubt opt for the 4Matic all-wheel-drive system, which channels torque to the rear wheels until they slip. Despite the trucky looks, there are no fancy off-road-oriented features, or even a low-range. The GLK should do fine in light off-roading, but so will many more car-like competitors. The larger ML might be a little more capable, but is no longer offered with a low-range in the U.S.—no doubt because there was little demand for the option.

The GLK350 handles with commendable balance—the rear-wheel-drive platform pays some dividends—but leans considerably more than the Audi Q5 and BMW X3 in turns. Change lanes quickly at high speeds, and the tail wags in a way it doesn’t in the others. The Mercedes-Benz’s steering is light, with a little slop on center. Here as well the GLK makes little attempt to pass as a car, much less a driver’s car, despite standard low-profile 235/50R19 tires (even larger 20s are optional). On the other hand, the ride is smoother than in the Audi and BMW. Even so, the GLK doesn’t quite have a premium feel to go with its premium price.

The tested 2011 GLK350, with the Premium and Multimedia Packages and heated seats, lists for $46,045. A similarly-equipped Audi Q5 lists for about $800 more, but according to TrueDelta’s car price comparison tool includes about $2,100 in additional features—including leather upholstery and xenon headlights. The X3 xDrive28i with similar features and the $1,550 Sport Activity Package (to get 18-inch wheels, 19s are only available with the xdrive35i) lists for $1,690 more but includes about $2,400 in additional features. Bottom line: once you adjust for feature differences (or spec the GLK up to the same level as the others) the Mercedes is the most expensive of the three, but not by a large enough margin that many people are going to pick one over the others based on sticker prices.

With the exception of BMW, the Germans (and Swedes, for that matter) arrived very late to the compact SUV party. With the Q5, Audi offers the segment’s most car-like entry, and the redesigned BMW X3 shifts in the same direction. Mercedes-Benz, perhaps consciously opting to take a different tack than everyone else, perhaps simply not paying attention to industry trends, went in the opposite direction. The GLK350 is the segment’s most truck-like entry—even the Land Rover LR2 looks, sits, and drives more like a car. As a result, the GLK is far from the best choice for driving enthusiasts. But few buyers in this segment are driving enthusiasts. In what has recently become a very crowded field, it helps to stand apart from the crowd. The GLK350 achieves this. Want some traditional SUV flavor in your premium compact SUV, but care more about the badge or German engineering than luxurious appointments? Then the GLK350 has that space largely to itself.

BMW provided the vehicle for this review at a ride-and-drive event for BMW owners.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

When reviewing a car I often find it useful to read other reviews on the same car, usually to see what likes and dislikes other reviewers had, and then see if those same issues bother me at all. When the C63 AMG was dropped off on my doorstep, I have to admit I was giddy, not just because it looks like a mini-me version of the E63 that I routinely park next to, but because every review I have read waxes poetic about it being the answer to the M3.

Starting off inside, for a $66,500 (as equipped) car, the cheap plastics and lack of features are startling. The same options – or lack thereof – that greet you in a base C300 rear their heads in the C63. If you don’t opt for the $3,300 multimedia package, then you are stuck with a pointless microscopic screen tucked under a manually opening storage cubby. The screen shows a digital tuning dial for the radio and provides a display for the built-in Bluetooth, but it’s so small that you might as well dial on your phone. When you opt for the $375 iPod integration kit, the screen becomes an oddly placed paperweight since the iPod can only be controlled via the steering wheel.

This is good if you don’t like your passenger’s to decide what tunes to listen to, but bad if you would like to use the screen in the center of the speedo for something else like the AMG mode where you see oil and coolant temps and an alternate gear indicator. This feature is so counterintuitive that when reading reviews like Autoblog’s review of the C63, they never even worked out how to use the iPod interface and instead disconnected the iPod and manually changed songs and playlists! Our press car didn’t come with the uplevel sound system or keyless drive, a feature found on Kias these days. Electronic shocks aren’t even an option.

I drove the C63 for two days, then re-read a number of reviews on the car. I figured there must be something wrong: they must have been driving a different car. The front seats in the C63 are epically uncomfortable yet no other review mentions this; they were apparently designed for someone less than 5’10” tall and less than 8” from shoulder to shoulder. I had no less than 15 random people try the seats, nobody found them pleasant to sit in. Six feet tall and with an average build, I was incapable of finding a comfortable seating position because the upper portion of the seat is so severely bolstered that the only way my upper back could touch the seat is if I hunched forward and curled my shoulders. Otherwise it felt like I was being groped by the side bolsters, and not in a good way. Sadly Mercedes offers no alternative seats. The front seats alone are reason to avoid the C63. Don’t get me wrong, I love side bolsters, but they need to be adjustable or sized for 85% of the populace.

The C63 is a deeply conflicted car; it has the engine of a world-class sports car and an exhaust note that makes teenagers cream their shorts, yet it possesses the most dimwitted automatic I have ever experienced in a sports sedan. The C63 doesn’t get the E63’s new automatic-with-a-clutch. Instead it gets Mercedes’ “Speedshift Plus” 7-speed automatic. The name suggests that this transmission shifts quickly. It doesn’t.

The C63 may very well be faster than the M3 in a straight line at a drag strip from a stop, but in reality when you are on the freeway next to one and compete for a freeway exit, the M3 is off the freeway and on the ramp before the C63 has even shifted. Speaking of those shifts, cars like the M3 or even the portly (in comparison) XFR will queue shifts: i.e. if you are in 6th and want 2nd hear, just flip the paddle four times and most performance cars will shift directly from 6th to 2nd blipping the throttle only once in the process. The AMG will not. You have to flip the paddle once, it blips, the transmission engages 5th, once in 5th you flip the paddle again, it blips again and engages 4th rinse and repeat for gears 3 and 2.

By the time you get to 2nd gear, you have run over the bicyclist in front of you, careened over the cliff or forgotten why you wanted 2nd gear in the first place. When I asked about this annoyance, I was told that all you have to do is hold down the down paddle and “the transmission will shift to the lowest gear available.” Sounds good, right? Wrong. The transmission still blips and shifts sequentially all the way down from 7th to 2nd (that’s five blips, five gear changes) making you sound like some knob that can’t drive a stick, plus you can never summon 1st gear in that fashion, that is always one more paddle pull away.

What makes the transmission all the more infuriating is how the car handles. There is zero drama at speed. The electronic nanny reels in the fun at all the right moments and, should you tell the nanny to pack it in for the day, you can burn out and do doughnuts to your heart’s content. This car is fast, seriously fast. The forums are alight with complaints that Merc didn’t keep the 518HP tune from the E63 in the C63, but it doesn’t really matter because there isn’t enough grip to use all that power from a stop anyway. My best accelerometer tested 0-60 time was 4.8 seconds, and that was (by necessity) easing up on the throttle around 3500-4500RPM to keep from burning out in first gear.

At the end of the day, the M3 remains the better car. The BMW’s ride is more compliant, thanks to electronic shocks. Its dual clutch transmission is neck-breakingly fast. And, perhaps most significantly, its interior parts quality is light-years ahead.Every person who got into the C63 was surprised that they were not surrounded by luxury. If Mercedes ditched the M3 wannabe seats, spent some cash making the interior a better place, and softened the suspension a hair, it might just be the perfect compact Euro sports sedan. Until then it’s playing third fiddle to the RS4 [a car that is no longer even sold new] and M3.

Mercedes-Benz provided the vehicle, insurance and one tank of gas for this review

Germany 1958: Women are allowed to take a job without asking their husband for permission. Europe makes its first baby steps to an EU. Elvis Presley arrives as a GI in an army barracks in Friedberg. Mercedes is in its fourth year of the gullwinged 300SL, one of the finest automobiles of all times.

The last perhaps was car journo hyperbole, expected from someone who was just handed the keys to a sports car fully restored by the Mercedes Classic Center in Stuttgart. Juan Perón had one, Porfirio Rubirosa had one, Sophia Loren, Gina Lollobrigida and Zsa Zsa Gabor had one. Now Sajeev Mehta has one, if only for a day, and if only for the benefit of the readers of Thetruthaboutcars.

This $500,000-ish Mercedes barely escaped the clutches of a Russian mobster who found its shipping container in Europe, en route to Texas. Which further explains why I was neither impressed nor interested in the attention it garnered from bystanders. Unlike the feeling of driving any Lamborghini, the gawkers only took away from the 300SL experience. Because, after 52 years on the road, it’s such a remarkable piece of hardware that it embodies the best of old and new, and defies its age like no other.

Aside from its meager footprint, the 300SL’s style defies the boundaries set by a generation’s worth of design gimmicks: this body is to automobiles what The Great Pyramids are to architecture. While the current Mercedes SLS is a fine ornament in front of the blingy Luxor Hotel, it’s bulldog face, chunky B-pillar and gangsta-wannabe hoops cannot hold a candle to its forefather’s proportional perfection. Which is true for every modern day retro-mobile, so perhaps Old School Über Alles is the only way to fly.

The 300SL’s interior shows its age, only in the best way possible. Everything is beautiful: decadent leather (all original) that’s olfactory ostentatious. Ancillary controls move with a weighted precision not found in today’s plastic craptastic machines. Even the gauge cluster is suitably gorgeous. The SL might be perfect, if not for the gull wing specific doorsill’s compromising entry/exit strategies and a borderline cramped cabin. Safety features (as if) notwithstanding, six footers will survive, provided their BMI is on par with your average Yank from the 1950s. The 300SL isn’t a car for everyone, but certain cars shouldn’t be designed to be all things to all people.

Preach to the choir much? Clock my final complaints: the lack of power steering (paired with a 70’s vintage Nardi tiller) makes parking lot positioning difficult, while the manual drum brakes (discs were standard in 1961) are terrifying in emergency situations. I steered clear of cars with modern stoppers for good reason.

The 300SL’s direct injected motor also lacks the technology of modern GDI powertrains, to keep those revolutionary injectors closed when the motor kicks off: which gives new meaning to Sunday afternoon cruises to blow the carbon out. Clear the straight six’s throat and enjoy the refined powerband of a motor with a flat torque curve and seamless power delivery from idle to 6000 revs and beyond.

Get a few MPHs on the speedometer and the old SL’s honor is restored, with a quick ratio 4-speed manual putting the power down with grace and pace. The (factory re-issued) Dunlop’s tall sidewalls mask rough roads better than most new vehicles, but there’s plenty of steering feel at turn-in. Put another way, the 300SL truly shines once the fuel system knows its place.

And this SL has the power to keep up with modern metal. Handling at modest speeds brings excitement, more than any modern day sports car with the safety nannies turned off. Thanks to the somewhat unpredictable swing axle arrangement, the 300SL happily steers the rear wheels on uneven pavement. But as a Gentleman’s car, it only picks a fight if you throw the first punch. Treat it right, stay in the ideal gear and the rear pushes you out of a corner very hard. Without drama. Which is simply intoxicating.

From boulevardier to back road barnstormer, the 300SL’s true beauty are in its bones: my tester was a roadster, one of 1885 made, but you’d never know from behind the wheel. Chassis flex? Not a chance: torsional loads are dissipated faster than GM bonds in bankruptcy court, while cowl shake is completely non-existent.

Not to belabor the point, but there’s no late model vehicle with a chassis this tight, much less a comfy convertible with a hoon-worthy suspension. No matter how technology progresses, I doubt any Lexus performs this good after five decades, even with a few years of restoration. It possesses gadgets and safety bits, but the driving experience can’t be topped. Dare I admit it, the same applies for any modern Mercedes.

Which makes the 1958 Mercedes 300SL simply heartwarming: it stands the test of time, with engineering relevant to cars like the 2011 Hyundai Sonata. Even without A/C or an AM radio, the 300SL is such a disarming dance partner you simply fall in love. With every turn and any gear change, I was completely taken aback at the 300SL’s timely yet distinctive performance. Which begs the question: can our modern metal produce a car of this caliber for the year 2062? Just don’t bet on it.

(Thanks to Mr. David Duthu for the seat time in his vehicle)

The R107, with soft top raised, visits the Trapp Family Lodge

Imagine it is thirty years in the future, 2039, and you are driving in a hard top convertible made in 2009. It has had three owners, and sports a healthy six-figures on the odometer. Would you expect it to leak, rattle, and/or squeak?
Probably.
Would you expect it to look dated and out of place as we approach 2030 when cars (finally) fly and run by garbage-powered fusion generators?
Likely.
In 2029 there will be 1970s-era Mercedes-Benz cars still on the road though. By then they might rattle, leak, and/or squeak. They may even look a little dated. But not today. I drove this 1979 450sl to a dentist appointment this morning. Two weeks before I drove it from coast to coast, through rain, snow, and sun. It doesn’t rattle. It doesn’t leak. It doesn’t squeak. It is as solid today as the day it rolled out of Stuttgart thirty years ago. This thing is built like a tank.

With removable pagoda-shaped hard top installed, the genetic link to the previous-generation W113 SL is evident.

In fact, the engineers who designed it nicknamed it “der Panzerwagen” as one of their specifications was to meet or exceed stringent safety regulations that threatened to force the roadster body style into permanent extinction. Apparently, the Germans know a thing or two about building tanks. Stylistically the R107 Chassis with its blend of slab shapes and extra-long radii curves owes far more to the Panzerkampfwagen “Königstiger” than its graceful automotive predecessors, the W198 and W113 “Sport Leicht” series. Under the hood, unlike the six-cylinder Gullwing and Pagoda Benzes, the R107 is motivated by a V-8 engine. It sports an overhead cam and fuel injection like its father and grandfather, and maintains a paternal link with a Pagoda-shaped removable hard top. From the neck down though it is its own panzer-like design. It was a phenomenally popular car, with well over a quarter-million of them made in a very long run, from 1971 through 1989. Built in a time when Mercedes-Benz was truly and uniquely synonymous with “quality”… as they remained alone at the top of the luxury automotive heap, towering über alles the (literally) smoking wreckage of Detroit and Coventry’s faded high-end brands, Cadillac, Lincoln, and Jaguar. This was when the Bavarians in Munich were just started going upmarket, and the Japanese were eviscerating Detroit only from below.

The R107 and it's genetic grandparent, the 300sl (W194)

The interior is snug, but well-appointed for a car from the 1970s.

This 450sl sold for around $32,000 in 1979, which adjusted for inflation is a Kia Rio shy of $110,000 in 2009. What did that kind of Carter-era cash get for you? A damn fine ride. The 450sl is a cruise missile of a car, a true Grand Tourer capable of days of comfortable Autobahn travel… top up, or down, on or off. The interior is snug, though comfortable for both driver and passenger. Seats are made from MB-tex, the Stuttgart equivalent of Kevlar, which deflects wear, stains, bullets, and tears, while somehow not being torturously uncomfortable like virtually all other 70s-era synthetic seats. Leather was optional, but rarely ordered for these roadsters though shaggy sheepskin was a de rigueur disco-era aftermarket addition, thankfully averted in the example here. Real wood accents trim out the dashboard and center console. The removable hard top weighs about 90 pounds and requires two people (or a garage-ceiling mounted pulley-lift) to install or remove. The latching mechanism is ingenious however and guarantees a snug, no rattle or leak fit to the car. When off the car the top rests on an aluminum rack with casters so it can be wheeled into a closet or corner of the garage. The rack itself breaks down easily into component parts which are bagged and easily stored in the generous trunk. The soft top manually folds away into a decked storage compartment aft of the cockpit when down with (attention car designers!) no trunk space used, and when raised latches to the windscreen using the same hardware as the hard top. At speed inside the car with either top on you are treated to a ride as quiet as a coupe or sedan. Unlike most convertibles, all-around visibility is excellent in any top configuration.

The well-engineered hard top stores on its own well-engineered cart.

While it may appear to be a big car, especially with the ludicrously large US-market bumpers, the R107 is in reality a diminutive two-seater which when parked next to today’s average machine finally reflects the true scale. It sits low, so when in the company of Suburban Ussault Vehicles defensive driving is an excellent strategy, so all that visibility for the driver pays off. Beyond a few 70s details in the styling it has a timelessness to it that wears far better than many of its peers from the days of disco. Especially with the top down, it appears as if it could be from any time in the last 40 years. Such is the staying power of simple shapes and spare, minimalist design.

The 450sl is much smaller than it looks.

Turn the key and the 4.5 liter V-8 makes a mild muscle-car rumble. The US-spec 3-speed automatic transmission does not inspire any sort of lust, nor risk any chiropractic involvement, performing its job in an undramatic utilitarian fashion. However once underway the chassis displays its Teutonic heritage in surprisingly nimble and huckable road feel. Able to cruise effortlessly at autobahn speeds, while also happily carving up any twisty backroad. Great turn-in and light, nimble steering. It is not the fastest car by any stretch of the imagination, but it certainly can be fun should you choose to toss it about.

Hang on, what's that beach benz doing on a racetrack? (Answer: 3rd place for that day.)

On the track it will never win any races (unless all your opponents are pedal-powered) but it will provide miles of smiles and never embarrass the driver. If anything it will inspire confidence to push it hard, as its manners are very steady at the edge of its performance envelope; neutral handling easing towards gentle and predictable throttle over-steer as you push it harder in the corners. Just forget about the dragstrip as the sedate transmission will let you down. The R107 is a stately sort of sports/performance car. It comes from Stuttgart but doesn’t wear that on its sleeve like a P-car.

A Montana State Trooper writes up his own review of the R107's capabilities.

The penalty for this moderately good performance, beyond being fast enough to collect speeding tickets even in Montana, is SUV-like non-frugality. The 450sl will burn up gasoline at about 12-17 MPG … if you are lucky. Thankfully it runs fine on Regular Unleaded, unlike so many finicky machines whose tastes are more top-shelf. This is also not a good winter car in northern climes. Performance on snow and ice is abysmal-to-terrifying. It will swap ends and send you pirouetting off into the woods at the mere sight of a snowflake. Park it once the thermometer starts dropping. Their A/C systems, especially for the ’77-’79 models can be problematic so if you’re living in Houston pick another year. Here in the Pacific Northwest however it’s a wash… it snows about as often a it reaches 90°F; almost never.

Trust me, you'll want to avoid this scenario.

While nowhere near the stratospheric value of its gull-winged supercar forebear, the R107 was still an upper-class car, the ride of choice for Professionals of the 70s & 80s: Doctors, Bankers, Dentists, and Trophy Wives. Given their popularity, 19-year long manufacturing run, plus build-quality that was truly higher than any car before or since, R107s are still available in good numbers. Many of them coming from one-owner garages, at a cost about what you would pay for the lowest tier of today’s scheisseboxen. So here is that most rare beasts: An affordable, reliable classic car, that provides enjoyable top-down motoring while being relatively inexpensive to buy.

When my dad hit middle age in the ‘70’s, his first reaction was to park a Mercedes in our garage – a ’75 450SE, which my mom nicknamed “Heinrich.” The Mercedes sedans of that era weren’t beautiful cars, but damned if Heinrich didn’t turn heads – it was obvious that someone important was driving it. By the time I learned to drive in 1979, mom had inherited Heinrich, and we had another German blitzkrieg machine – a BMW 733i. The two cars couldn’t have been more different – on the winding roads around my house, the BMW was a jock, but Heinrich was a Panzer tank of a car that sternly replied “nein” if you tried to force him into back-road calisthenics. But Heinrich always impressed the general public – only dedicated gearheads did a double-take when they saw the BMW, while Heinrich was still getting looks into the late 1980’s. Flash forward three decades, and little has changed: the BMW in this test is still an athlete with no fashion sense, while the all-new E350 is an imposing power suit of a car.

Stylistically, the 350E plays Mini-Me to the S-class; the gently-rounded (and, to this writer’s eye, far more handsome) contours of the outgoing E-Class have given way to a pronounced wedge shape, fender flares, and a stern-looking, aggressive front end treatment. The result is an expensive, imposing look, particularly in dark colors, but the E350 is clearly designed to impress, not captivate. For the Mercedes’ target audience, which is largely made up of status-seekers, that’s OK, but anyone who wants a look to fall in love with should look elsewhere.

The E350 fares better style-wise inside; entry and exit are easy, and the driver is greeted by a beautifully-detailed dashboard trimmed in chrome and gorgeous burled walnut. The air vents and door latches repeat the trapezoidal theme from the exterior, a nice touch. The only stylistic quirk is the hump on the top of the dash, which accommodates the navigation, climate control and radio displays. The BMW has a similar hump, and the E350 handles it better stylistically, but this dash would look a lot better if it had the C-class’ retractable display. The steering wheel is agreeably fat, and wrapped in particularly nice leather; the odd-looking instruments of the old E-class have been replaced by conventional dial instruments, with a large digital display in the middle of the speedometer to read out trip and vehicle data.

Rear seat passengers get first-class treatment in this new E350 – there isn’t as much space as the M35, but comfort is top-notch in this test, and the rear compartment is nicely trimmed, with contrasting leather door trim panels. Workmanship is also first-class, with conspicuously high-quality, durable-feeling materials.

The E350 may be dressed to impress, but the engine never makes a truly favorable impression. The 3.5 liter V-6 is a carryover from the previous-generation E-Class, and it makes 268 horsepower – lowest in this test, leading to the slowest acceleration (Mercedes estimates 0-60 in 6.8 seconds). The engine note is also displeasingly coarse under strong acceleration, and while the 7-speed automatic transmission helps make the most of the V-6’s limited power, it consistently vetoes runs to the redline. On the bright side, torque delivery is stout – 258 lb/ft at 2400 rpm – making the E350 feel reasonably spry enough off the line. After that, it’ll get creamed by every car in this test, particularly the ballistic BMW and Audi, and all manner of lesser cars. Mercedes clearly has some work to do underneath the hood.

Dynamically, the E350 is a mixed bag – numb and dull on twisting roads, but brilliant on the Interstate. Its suspension is classic Mercedes: tuned for comfort, even with the test car’s optional sport package (which, surprisingly, was a no-cost deal), and the steering is slightly numb and heavy. You can fling the E350 hard into a corner, and it’ll do the job, but like Heinrich, this car will take no pleasure in doing so.

But put the E350 on an Interstate, and it’s a completely different beast: the same heavy steering and overly-compliant suspension that make it such a dud in hard driving help it hunker down, track straight as an arrow, and feel remarkably stable, even at extra-legal speeds. As a long distance cruiser, no other car in this test can touch the E350 – the Lexus comes closest, but on the highway, the Lexus feels like a soulless automaton, while the Mercedes is clearly enjoying its work. Equip this car with the excellent Bluetec diesel and you may have the ultimate long-distance cruiser.

Hopefully, those long distance cruisers will have a friendly banker. The E350’s base price is a reasonable $48,600, but with the options you expect in this class of car – leather, sunroof, upgraded sound system and navigation and all-wheel-drive – the test car weighed in at $58,585. To be fair, that’s not unreasonable for this class, in which price is often an afterthought.  Given the E350’s lackluster engine and handling though, it’s unreasonable for this car, particularly when the ballistic Audi and BMW are similarly priced.

For the status seekers, Interstate warriors and Panzer tank fans out there, the E350 is a worthy steed. Since status is a buying consideration in this class, the E350 won’t be alone at the bottom of the heap. Still, the luxury sport sedan game has moved on since Heinrich’s day. Too bad the E-Class hasn’t really.

Performance: 3/5
Acceleration is tepid for this class, but the E350 earns two stars for its unmatched highway cruising ability

Ride: 5/5
Not just comfortable – this car seems to will bumps into submission

Handling: 1/5
You practically need a court order to convince this car to be driven hard

Exterior: 3/5
If you’re out to impress the neighbors, this is the best looking car in its class. Otherwise, there are better designs out there.

Interior: 4/5
Sumptuous, comfortable, and spacious; control-knob silliness costs one point

Fit and finish: 4/5
Workmanship is impressive, and Mercedes still builds cars to last as long as your repair budget holds out, but those body panel gaps are so 1980.

Toys: 1/5
Suffers from the same problem the BMW does: everything is optional, and all the options are expensive. Couldn’t Mercedes have used the money it saved carrying over the lame old-gen engine to make leather seats standard?

Desirability: 3/5
It’s not great to drive, but the E350 has snob appeal to burn, and that’s worth three stars

I’m old enough to remember when Mercedes used the tagline “engineered like no other car in the world,” and no one questioned it. When the 1986 W124 E-Class was introduced, Car & Driver proclaimed it “the best car in the world.” In the quarter-century since, Mercedes’ position in the automotive pecking order has become less certain. Lexus came out of nowhere, and BMW has managed to successfully expand upward from the 3-Series and to become a provider of luxury as well as sport. For 2010 Mercedes has totally redesigned the E-Class. Any chance it’s 1986 all over again?

The styling of the 1986 W124 E-Class was timeless. Noting that the marque’s traditional virtues were no longer bringing in the buyers, Mercedes grafted four oval headlights onto the mid-1990s W210 E-Class to communicate “we’re not stodgy.” That ploy worked for a couple of years, after which many people were wishing the W124 had never been replaced. With the 2003 W211, timeless styling returned, and it hurt. Surrounded by Audiesque grilles and Bangled bodysides, no luxury sedan was easier to lose in a crowd. So, with the 2010 W212 E-Class, Mercedes has again opted for road presence and distinctive styling. Specifically, the new car’s chunkier shape is adorned with a quartet of rectangular headlights and pointless rear fender bulges. The W211 is easily the more beautiful car, but the W212 looks much more like $55,000, even if the design of the hood makes it appear misaligned.

The restyled E-Class interior resembles that of the current C-Class. The shapes are blocky rather than flowing and organic, and might appear overly basic or even cheap were it not for the obvious quality of the materials and subtle detailing. Very German.

Following BMW’s lead, the transmission shifter is an electronic stalk on the steering column, freeing up console real estate for an iDrive-like controller. While a console-mounted shifter no longer makes much functional sense, a car does seem less sporty without one.

The W212 continues Mercedes’ tradition of a relatively high driving position, for better forward visibility than in an Audi or BMW. The front seats continue another Mercedes tradition: they’re much firmer than those in a Volvo or Lexus. While shaped well for support, even the lateral variety, these seats lack the plush feeling many people will expect in a luxury sedan.

The W212 E-Class’s rear seat is an improvement over that in the W211, but continues to lag those in the BMW 5-Series and Infiniti M in terms of comfort and space. The thinking at Mercedes-Benz seems to be that those seeking an adult-worthy rear seat should spring for the S-Class. One thing the rear seat does do (optionally) that those in Asian competitors don’t: fold to expand the trunk.

The great majority of buyers in the United States will opt for the base engine, a 268-horsepower 3.5-liter V6, and for good reason: it’s more than adequate. You can get just as much power in an Accord these days, and some competing sixes offer 300+ horsepower. But the fact of the matter is that most drivers won’t come close to tapping out the E350′s power potential in 99 percent of their driving. This wouldn’t be the case with an old-style four-speed automatic, but when there are seven ratios to select from the engine is always in its powerband. Unlike some earlier iterations of this transmission, the one in the W212 shifts smoothly and with an appropriate frequency.

Mercedes’ pricing can be baffling. In some cases an AMG body kit, sport suspension tuning, and upsized wheels can run over five grand. In other cases—including the 2010 E350—the sport treatment is no extra charge. Sport Package for free? That’s an easy choice.

The sport-suspended chassis behaves well, with good balance, admirable composure over rough patches, and minimal lean in hard turns. Through the seat of one’s pants, the car feels tight and precise. Then there’s the steering. In a word, it’s dead. Weighting varies from overly light to artificial. Road feel is absent. The suspension might be excellent, but this steering dashes any chance of a driver connecting with this car.

The E-Class’s ride is neither as firm as in a BMW 5-Series nor as absorbent as in a Lexus GS. It doesn’t feel cushy, but there’s no harshness. Nor are there any of the untoward, indecisive jiggles that occasionally mar the ride of the upstart Hyundai Genesis. The solid, planted feel Mercedes has traditionally been known for is certainly present in this car. As in just about any luxury sedan these days (with the notable exception of the Audi A6), noise levels are low.

The new Mercedes-Benz E-Class looks and feels solid and expensive. But if Mercedes wants to regain its earlier reputation, it needs to offer more than this. Aspects of the styling will appear dated by the time the lease is over. But that’s common in the post-Bangle era. More troubling, the combination of overly firm seats with zombie steering means that the new W212 E-Class excels as neither a luxury sedan nor a sport sedan. Who is this car for? Do even luxury sedan buyers want to feel entirely disconnected from the driving experience? Mercedes has been making cars longer than anyone else has. So why can’t they provide a decent steering system?

Michael Karesh operates TrueDelta.com, a provider of car reliability and real-world gas mileage information

The year was 1997. As a bright eyed, recently minted med school graduate, I had two glorious weeks in Europe before the torture of internship began. One very memorable moment was in the parking lot of the MB museum in Stuttgart, where I spotted a prototype 1998 E50 AMG sulking behind a security gate. That thing looked evil, hunkered down on its 17″ alloys. It was so far removed from my Opel Astra rental car reality that I could scarcely imagine unleashing the 350 HP AMG-fettled V8 on the ‘Bahn at 170 mph in the latest heir to the Hammer.

Fast forward 12 years and the spoils of the German horsepower arms race now litter the pages of eBay. Six year old E55 AMGs with 500 hp supercharged V8s can be had for under $30K, and a “standard” Mercedes E550 will outrun the AMGs of my youth. I was busy living out my childhood dreams, with a daily-driven 604 hp CL65 AMG coupe that had a colossal twin turbo V12 oozing twice the torque of even the hottest V8s of days past. Nothing, not even MB’s own cartoonish V8-powered SLR could unseat this luxurious beast as the king of the autobahn. Or so I thought . . .

As great a cruiser as the CL65 was, it’s still a 2.5 ton tank with narrow tires and a peg-leg differential; the smaller two seat SL65 roadster was no lighter. In my cerebral skunkworks, I often imagined how a lightweight Benz fitted with superior underpinnings would allow the biturbo V12 to shine. Apparently the good folks at Aufrecht Melcher Großaspach agreed. Enter the SL65 Black Series.

You’ve seen the recipe in the buff books: take a regular, semi-sane, but portly SL65 AMG barchetta, pull off the bodywork (sans doors) and replace with DTM-like flared carbon fiber pieces that add 4 full inches to the track width. Throw in a faster fixed carbon fiber roof, an aggressive front fascia to cool the supersized heat exchangers, and a retractable speed sensitive rear wing. End result: a slinky, crouching muscle bound fastback coupe that looks like it could leap over left lane squatters in a single bound.

To wit: when this ride rolled out of the trailer from a dealer in the Midwest with 1.7 miles on the odometer, those of us in attendance just sat and stared at it. And stared some more. And shook our heads. It really takes some time just to absorb the presence of this thing. The more you examine the fastback roofline, the way the front fenders meld into the air extractors, the CF exhaust surrounds . . . it’s just not the same on your computer monitor. Open the hood or trunk to see the beautiful raw carbon undersides of the panels. The trunk space reveals a beautifully stitched box covered in the same leather as the seats, with the engine builder’s plaque affixed to it. Contained within is a bespoke car cover and a letter welcoming me to the AMG owners’ fold.

The Black recipe under the skin: Ditch the heavy, power robbing Active Body Control in favor of a proper set of double adjustable KW coil-over shocks, H&R sway bars, and meaty Dunlop 19- and 20-inch rubber, measuring a Z06-esque 325mm wide in the rear. Don’t forget a 40% locking diff, since the handbuilt V12 is now fortified with bigger air boxes, larger turbos, and a freer flowing exhaust featuring genuine Eisenmann race mufflers. All this adds up to 661 HP and a crushing 738 lb·ft of torque, pushing 500 pounds less mass than the 4,600 lb SL65 droptop.

To verify AMG’s power claims, I followed the break-in guidelines posted on the windshield decal religiously. I had the good folks at Hennessey Performance in Sealy, Texas, change the oil prophylactically at 1000 miles, and we pulled the car off the lift and around the corner right on to the Dynojet dynamometer. After verifying (on the virtual dipstick) the correct oil level and finding the secret menu that puts the car into “dyno mode,” which disables the ABS/TC/ESP from ruining the fun, the big Black laughed at the 96 degree, 90% humid Houston heat. It put down 580 HP to the tires on the first pull and an astounding 700 lb·ft of torque, SAE corrected. Accounting for a 20% driveline loss, the advertised flywheel numbers are conservative. I’d never seen a stock, unmodified vehicle lay down stronger numbers. You’d need a Veyron for that.

The number of highway challengers I had to back down from during the painful break in period were quickly forgotten on the first WOT highway blast. Unlike the strong but silent regular V12 Benzes, the BS bellows mightily and lunges forward at any speed. Acceleration, conforming to expectation is, well, bonkers. Mat the throttle at 60 mph, and (assuming you don’t get wheelspin) literally one second later, the rear spoiler deploys in your rearview mirror, signifying 75 mph. Four seconds later, triple digits are yours, with the acceleration showing no signs of abating. Although I have no proof, I’d swear the ECU allows more boost in the higher gears . . . no other stock vehicle I’ve driven hits its second wind when shifting into 4th at 120 mph like this thing. Since AMG has relaxed the speed limiter from 155 to 199 mph, it only makes sense to test this thing at the Texas mile in October. Stay tuned . . .

Unfortunately, the 5-speed auto remains in place, but with a Black-specific ‘M2’ faster shift mode, in which the otherwise somber white tach displays a yellow/red circumferential shift light that would do a slicks ’n’ skinnies wheelstanding ’69 Camaro proud.

Toggling through the steering wheel menu options further reveals dual lap timers that can be triggered sequentially, you know, in case you want to measure your 0-60 and the (new benchmark) 60-130 times all in one pull.

Ride motions are surprisingly choppy, like a 997 GT2, but the roll control is absolute. The factory settings for the double adjustable coilovers and alignment are what AMG engineers used at the Nürburgring, but I might experiment with a bit less compression and rebound damping to smooth out real world driving in the future. As it sits, when you dive into a decreasing radius corner, the big Merc exhibits amazing grip, but with this kind of torque, extreme care is required in squeezing the throttle upon exit. Luckily, a Black-specific ESP Sport mode allows more yaw than standard AMG fare before pulling the plug on the party.

Inside, the car is mostly standard SL aside from the flat-bottomed, perforated leather wheel, white AMG tach, paddle shifters, and carbon fiber trim. The shift knob proclaims “One of 175,” making it rarer here than even a Carrera GT. Fragrant leather and Alcantara abounds, with comfy buckets that have been stripped of the usual heat/ventilation functions and have Black-specific horizontal white stitching. Due to US side impact regs, these replace the Euro spec carbon fiber racing buckets; this keeps the comfort level on the right side of civilized. Clarkson, or at least his coccyx, is undoubtedly jealous.

That said, the SL65 Black Series is too schizophrenic for many: a factory lightweight hot rod with track-intended cooling, power, suspension and aero mods that still weighs two tons, lacks ceramic brakes, and has a slushbox. One thing that can’t be denied, though: with a tenuous CO2-centric future ahead of us, the 2009 SL65 Black Series is among the rarest, most outrageous rides in these waning days of the second golden age of performance cars.

Thanks to Hennessey Performance for use of their dyno and TonyG Photography for the photos. See more shots of the SL65 AMG Black Series at TonyG’s website.

They don’t build them like they used to. Really. I have yet to come across an car as solid as an old Mercedes, say pre-1998, before the Chrysler-DaimlerBenz AG “merger of equals.” If I had to choose one car to represent the pinnacle of—and benchmark for—Mercedes’ build quality, it would be the W116 S-Class. Hence my decision to restore a barn-found 1975 280S.

The W116 was the first Mercedes luxury sedan to be called the S-Class (the Sonderklasse or “special class”). From a design point-of-view, the 280S is old school, heavily inspired by the R107 450SL roadster and coupe that debuted several years earlier. Unlike the pretentious Rolls-Royce and Bentleys of its day, Mercedes’ three-box had both überholprestige and understated elegance. It’s sleek, refined and tasteful, with a broad shoulder line that gives it a masculine demeanor. At the same time, the big Benz’s wedge shape keeps the gargantuan sedan (17′ long) from looking overwhelmingly large.

Pulling the 280S’s protruding chrome door handle yields a suitably loud metallic clank. Nestling into in the S car’s therapeutic bucket seats, it’s easy to imagine the 280S as intercontinental transportation. Although the project car’s interior is a little warped from a year outdoors—not to mention the fact that it’s 34 years old—the cabin’s held up well. All materials and surfaces are soft to the touch, with brand-appropriate stolidity. Stoic, Teutonic, and dark. Check, check, check.

The 280S’s monstrous dash stretches across the entire width of the car; and there’s not much going on save a strip of wood lining the center. The climate and radio ergonomics are less than spectacular. While the switchgear maintains its tactile and firm feel, the main controls are virtually indistinguishable from one another.

In today’s day and age, the Mercedes Benz 280S seems woefully underpowered. Its carbureted 2.8-Liter DOHC straight six is rated at 160hp and 167 lb·ft of torque, peaking at 5,500 and 4,000 RPM respectively. Channeled through a short-ratio, four-speed automatic, the 280S’s acceleration is nothing more than adequate around town. Steep inclines and highway driving demand lots of wide open throttle and downshifting—just to keep up with traffic. No surprise: the M110 engine has to motivate about 3800 lbs worth of German steel.

The 280S [barely] achieved 12 mpg city/17 mpg highway. Back in the days of the fuel crisis and the newfangled lead-free fuel, these numbers and performance figures were . . . tolerable. The performance, not so much. Zero to sixty clocks in at about 11 seconds. The top speed lives in the vicinity of 120MPH. Again, that’s not bad for 1975. More importantly, the M110 engine’s smoothness rivals many modern straight sixes. Power delivery is wonderfully progressive. And, boy, does the 280S like to rev.

Handling is the 280S’s strong suit. The sedan tapped into technology from the famed C111 development test car. The 280S sports a double wishbone suspension with a torsion bar stabilizer up front, delivering zero offset and camber. The engineers added progressive anti-dive geometry to keep that big body stable under hard braking. They modified the once camber-change susceptible diagonal rear swing axle—the one that made the Chevrolet Corvair such a dangerous car to drive—with control arms that keep the camber change at bay (again, zero offset and camber).

The result: Mercedes’ traditional firm yet compliant ride quality. The Mercedes-Benz 280S will absorb potholes, dips, dives, imperfections without a care. Absolutely nothing can upset this car’s chassis. It has such a surefooted stance that it seems unstoppable.

Take the 280S on a long sweeping road, control the transmission via the shift gate, and it will negotiate a corner with swan-like grace. With its near-50/50 weight distribution, well thought out suspension tuning and a stiff chassis, the 280S is as neutral as Switzerland.

Mercedes designed the 280S’s handling limits to exceed the average driver’s skills, making the sedan easy and safe to drive—with plenty of potential for tire-squealing hoonery. The car’s wide track keeps lateral body motions well controlled. Its recirculating ball steering provides enough feel and feedback to tell you when the front wheels start to lose grip. And while the 280S doesn’t hide its massive size and bulk, it’s as easy to maneuver as a present day Honda Accord. At 2.7 turns lock-to-lock with a large diameter steering wheel, parallel parking the big Benz is a breeze.

Unlike BMWs of its day, the 280S is a perfect example of Mercedes-Benz’ ideology of blending safety, performance and comfort. The 280S is such a docile machine that it’s hard to imagine how far ahead of its time this car was, let alone its more expensive siblings (the 450SEL and the legendary 450SEL 6.9). If today’s Mercedes had continued to construct cars like the W116, rather than reaching downmarket, Mercedes would have maintained their reputation and a legitimate claim on producing the world’s best engineered cars.

[Click here for more of Chris Chin's at finaldrivepublications.blogspot.com]

Summer 2005. My plans for a Vintage Car Rally Vacation evaporate. Rebuilding a very poorly rebuilt engine vacuums funds allocated for the purpose out of my wallet. What started as an odd knock became a horror show. My fussy ex-pat Yorkshireman mechanic in Chilliwack, British Columbia, removed the head and found the forensic remains of a car-related massacre not seen since Pol Pot rode around in his ’73 Mercedes. Just when I had given up on my dreams of a vintage vacation, the phone rang with an offer to co-drive an event in what many have called the world’s first supercar: the Mercedes-Benz 300SL. I accepted the offer faster than Mr. Fangio could frustrate Mr. Ferrari.

The 300SL was a race car adapted to the street—the creation of Daimler-Benz’s US importer Max Hoffman. Hoffman convinced Stuttgart that he could sell a street-legal version of their W194 race chassis to wealthy Americans. In 1954, at the New York Motor Show, Mercedes unveiled what they billed as the world’s fastest production car. The feature that captured the imagination: doors hinged at the top. The shape made when open became so synonymous with the 300SL that it retains the nickname “Gullwing Mercedes” to this day. It’s an instantly recognizable icon. Oddly however, the 300SL drop-top becomes just a nice old Mercedes; “Joe Average would fail to recognize the model without those “funny doors.”

The 300SL brought another innovation that changed the automotive industry: Direkteinspritzung mit mechanisch geregelter Einspritzpumpe a.k.a. direct (mechanical) fuel injection. Otherwise, the 300SL was Teutonically undramatic. It sported the 3.0-liter straight six found across the Benz lineup of the day, recirculating ball steering, swing axle rear suspension and drum brakes all around. Even so, the 300SL sold for a phenomenal $11,000 in 1954, limiting its buyers to the thin upper film of the upper crust. You could buy four Jags and a Corvette with what it cost to buy a 300SL new. Oddly, that exchange rate has been maintained, with interest.

Mercedes built 1400 “Gullwing” coupes. Some were sold to “gentlemen racers” who ordered performance options such as Rudge knock-off wheels, aluminum bodywork, and higher horsepower engines. In 1957, the coupe was phased out and the Roadster introduced. The roadster came standard with the more powerful engine. Mercedes engineers improved he rear suspension by lowering the swing axle’s pivot point, greatly reducing the Gullwing’s notorious tendency to swap ends in tight corners. The automaker created some 1,858 Roadsters to finish the run (3,258 over eight years of production).

The example I drove was one of the first Roadsters built in 1957. The state-of-the-art-for-the-era Mercedes-Benz 300SL handles well—for a mid-50s machine. Having driven both a 300SL and an XK 120 (review coming soon), the 300SL beats the Jaguar hands-down. Although the straight-eight 300SLR that competed with the C-type Jags had less torque, they kept up with, and frequently beat the early racing Jags. The 300SL street version’s inline-six simply doesn’t compare to the massive torque of the XK Jaguar mill, but it has more horsepower. If the mind is willing (and very, very attentive), so is the body.

The 300SL is a quiet car at any speed, until and unless you rev the engine past 4000 rpm. At that point, the six becomes amazingly loud, with a machine-gun note from the mechanical injection. The gearbox is setup for track or autobahn in 4th gear; at street-legal US speeds it revs low and can’t deliver instant “go now” torque for passing. In other words, you must rev it high to wring-out serious performance. Driving the 300SL quickly requires forethought, planning, and timing. The car I drove has a synchro issue in 3rd, which required double clutching and careful throttle blipping to achieve an un-Moss (gearbox, not Stirling) like downshift. Passing was more than a passing problem. Never mind.

In terms of comfort, ergonomics, build-quality, fit and finish and overall driving experience, the 300SL embarrasses even a contemporary Jaguar sports car. The old Merc is an extremely smooth and ergonomically sound machine, with exceptional engineering evident in every aspect. Other than the use of rock hard materials (there is no plastic), you’d think the 300SL is a “new” car. Unlike some modern equivalents (at least in terms of performance), the 300SL can accommodate a driver of almost any height. The leak-proof top is a dream to raise and lower, and stores away in a beautiful, well-engineered cover. The coupes are reputedly not as comfortable as the roadsters, due to poor ventilation.

While an owner could “compete” in vintage track and rally events in a 300SL, the car is best suited for wealthy owners who wish to dress to the nines and attend glamorous functions with a drop-dead gorgeous date. The Mercedes-Benz 300SL is sporting elegance personified.

I was expecting to dislike the new E-Class Coupe from Mercedes. AMG versions aside, the outgoing CLK was about as interesting to drive as a Toyota Solara, and Mercedes has already announced that there would be no AMG versions of the new car. From the early photos of E-Class Coupe, I had already determined that the large glass sunroof with its meager mesh sun protection would curry little favor with me, and the little rear quarter window spoiled the look of this frameless coupe. To make matters worse, the 2010 E-Class Coupe’s engines are carryovers from the CLK. Mercedes claims our fuel quality isn’t suitable for the new direct injected engines offered in Europe. (Translation: the US is a dumping ground for some old engine inventory.) The E-Class nomenclature is another sleight of hand, as the chassis is still derived from the C-Class. Harrumph.

Still, the new car is attractive enough: a bulldog version of its much larger CL brother. Aesthetic joy: the louvered fairings under the rear valence hearken back to the AMG Black Series CLK. There is an exuberance of glitz in front—acres of chrome and four (count ’em) fog lights—which make for quite an entrance.

This “the CLK has moved up a notch” theme continues inside, where Mercedes has blessed the dash materials with a welcome upgrade and jewel-like gauges. The E-Class Coupe’s cabin design may be overly square, but modern and luxurious. The two-door’s seats have a wide range of adjustability. While comfy, the leather quality could use [another] upgrading. That said, the steering wheel was covered in buttery smooth leather; well worth a lengthy caress. And although the aforementioned rear opera window is ugly, it enhances the model’s existing, class-leading outward visibility.

In terms of toys, there are more than enough gizmos to tease the gods of depreciation. The standard “attention assist” is little more than an alarm clock which shows you a picture of a coffee cup after a pre-determined period. [Ed: Coffee!] The sound system is state of the art, offering power and clarity for the standard high definition radio, available satellite radio, DVD changer, hard drive music register and MP3 player, all accessible via a COMAND center lifted from the S-Class that is intuitive and easy to use. E-Class Coupe’s adaptive lighting swivels in relation to turns and automatically dims the high beams when encountering oncoming traffic.

Distronic Plus radar cruise control is available on the small coupe for the first time. You can’t fault the algorithm, but I call it the “rude driver” encouragement system. You can also order advanced parking guidance, which is as silly here as in the Lexus applications. There is a hold function for the brakes at stoplights, but its operation was buried deep inside one of the electronic menus.

If I closed my eyes and tried to guess the E-Class Coupe’s brand (closed course, no stationary objects), I would have guessed 75/25 Mercedes/BMW. The Merc’s steering offers shocking heft and directness. Under wide open throttle, the 268 horsepower V6′s exhaust note is throaty and enthusiastic. The speed matched the sonic pleasure; the E-Class Coupe can complete the 0 – 60 jaunt in a scant 6.2 seconds. The Merc’s brakes were easy to modulate and effective. The car’s engineers have dialed-back Mercedes’ typical syrupy throttle tip-in by a few notches—although it still emphasizes smoothness over sport. The transmission felt creamy and effortless on part throttle but downshifted somewhat harshly when caned.

The E-Class Coupe’s handling is much improved versus the CLK, although initial turn-in lacked the bite and encouragement compared to its BMW 3 Series competition. Overall the driving experience is impressive, more involving when you want it but with an overriding sense of luxury and composure. Softer than Audi or BMW and perhaps lacking in a pure sporting edge. In other words, it’s a grand tourer.

So Merc’s moved the CLK upscale in image and pricing and changed the name to fool the innocent. That’s about half right. The pricing on the new E-Class Coupe is about the same as the outgoing CLK: $48,050 compared to $48,100 Needless to say, the E-Class Sedan is touted as $4,600 cheaper than the E-Class car it replaces. As usual, the Mercedes E-Class Coupe is more expensive than its German rivals; the BMW 328 with automatic starts at $38,650 (good luck finding one of those). The Audi A5 with automatic starts at $42,000. Preliminary fuel economy figures are listed at 18 in the city and 26 on the highway; the BMW is slightly more fuel efficient while the Audi is slightly less.

Once upon a time, you bought BMW for performance, Audi for style and Mercedes for luxury and prestige. Without giving up any of it traditional virtues, Mercedes has dialed-up the style and sport in this new E-Class Coupe, making the choice of one of these three alternatives more difficult than ever.

My experience running the 2005 One Lap of America (OLOA) in a Mercedes-Benz 190E 2.3-16/ had left me more than a little cynical about the event. The fantasy of running the “modern-day Cannonball” had been eclipsed by frustration with the quasi-time-trial, horsepower-obsessed reality that is OLOA in the modern era. Still, the competitive disease from which both I and my co-driver Brian suffered meant that we wanted to “win” the thing before we left Brock’s Big Parade for the greener pastures of real wheel-to-wheel racing. Enter former radiologist and current Mercedes-Benz tuner, Satish Tummala, owner of Motorwerks in Detroit.

Satish proposed that we run a Kleemann-tuned diesel E320 in the event’s “Alternative Fuel” class. The only entrants listed in AltFuel were three TDI-powered Volkswagens. Awesome. With twice a TDI’s horsepower, we’d be bringing a gun to a knife fight. Within days of our fanfare-filled announcement that we would be contesting OLOA 2006 in a diesel Benz, the Volkswagens all removed their registrations. They could read the writing on the wall as well as we could. This meant that, as Alain de Cadenet might say, it would be “victory by default.”

Our 2005-model E320 CDI was, in many ways, a perfect example of why many long-term Mercedes loyalists have abandoned the brand. The interior was indifferently constructed from low-value materials. After just 30,000 miles and one year’s worth of use, there was more visible wear on the surfaces than there had been on my two-decade-old, 236,000-mile 190E. Throughout the car, there was a visible emphasis on style which simply is not present in pre-1995 Mercedes-Benzes, from the cheap-looking “floating needle” gauges to the wobbly chrome rings which controlled interior temperature and radio volume. Too much flash, not enough substance.

This fifty-thousand-dollar-plus car really didn’t look the part, inside or out; worse than that, it wasn’t up to the traditional standards of the brand. The following year’s E-class would rectify some of these issues, particularly with regards to materials quality. But that was no comfort to us as we crossed the country in seats that gently wobbled in their mountings with every expansion joint.

Fortunately for us, the engine made up for many of the car’s surface deficiencies. With a V8′s worth of shove from idle and a most un-diesel-like willingness to hustle all the way through the short rev range, the CDI was smooth and strong. This was the very last Mercedes-Benz sedan available with an inline six. It was a joy to pop the characteristic ninety-degree-opening Benz bonnet and see a real engine there instead of a cost-cutting, crash-conscious, cravenly cheap V-6.

Unfortunately, we found ourselves opening that bonnet time and time again. The Kleemann upgrades, which consisted of aggressive programming and additional fuel injection hardware, made plenty of extra power but caused the E320 to enter “limp-home” mode twice during our first few on-track events. As we passed through Pat Metheny’s hometown of Lee’s Summit, Missouri, we made the decision to return the big Benz back to stock, right there in the parking lot of a Speedway gas station.

With this accomplished, it was time to salvage some minor glory out of a default victory. Around VIR’s Full Course, the E320 was six seconds a lap faster than our 190E 2.3-16 had been the previous year, and “only” ten seconds a lap behind self-proclaimed stunt driver Ken Block in his mega-bucks Subaru STi. Around Putnam Park, I was able to put the smoky, slow-steering Benz ahead of a variety of BMWs, Corvettes, and the aforementioned Block-mobile, setting the front brakes on fire in the process.

There’s something both reassuring and terrifying about tracking a two-ton-plus diesel sedan. The sheer magnitude of the steering motion required to make the car turn, slide, and recover approaches community-theater levels of exaggeration, the brake pedal presents a different level of fade and feel in every turn, and the infamous M-B ESP intervenes at precisely the wrong moments, “dyno mode” or no. By the end of the event, the car felt tired, plain and simple, although the diesel never faltered once freed of its aftermarket junk.

Secure in the knowledge that we could not lose this event, my co-driver and I proceeded to engage in an unfortunate bit of hoonage that ended up with me being dragged behind a driverless E320 as it headed for a very well-occupied paddock. After a long discussion with an enormous security guard holding an even larger pistol, we decided to skip the rest of the event, bandage up my feet, and get our trophies in the mail. Pro tip: don’t “hang out” of the car while doing parking-lot donuts, okay? Lesson. Learned.

To this day, I regret selling my 190E 2.3-16, but we walked away from this E320 without a second thought. It simply wasn’t a very good car, and more unforgivably than that, it wasn’t much of a Mercedes. Let’s hope that the new E-class proves itself more worthy of the three-pointed star; it could hardly prove to be less.

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

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

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

5th Place — Mercedes-Benz C63 AMG

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

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

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

Theme song: “Deuces Wild” by Link Wray

4th Place — Lexus IS-F

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

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

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

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

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

3rd Place — Audi RS4

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

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

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

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

2nd Place — BMW M3

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

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

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

Theme song: I take Beethoven’s fifth.

1st Place — Cadillac CTS-V (Manual)

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

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

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

Theme song: anything by Stevie Ray Vaughan.

It takes a couple of miles to warm up to this trucklet. The Mercedes GLK’s exterior won’t fire you up on your approach. The 90s-style orthogonal body looks like it’s already due for a refresh. I’m not saying everything on the road needs to be modeled on a suppository. I love the righteous Geländewagen, a machine which shipping crates have envied for over 30 years. But the authority of the creases found on the G and GL SUVs simply doesn’t scale down. Sometimes, emulating your big brothers makes it all the more obvious that you’re the baby of the family.

The diminutive outside cons you. The interior appears so incredibly roomy A) because you’ve lowered your expectations and B) because it is. Two sunroofs help. Headroom and shoulder room are ample enough to make you forget this is the runt of the litter. The detail is stark but accentuates the safety deposit box theme. The silvery rings on the controls and the dials put you inside a Breitling chronograph. If I owned a big ad agency I’d do my office this way and everyone would respect me.

The seats are exquisite. The seat controls’ traditional door-mounted position makes them easy to use and keeps snow off the armrests.  One assumes they won’t short out. An electrical problem is not what you want in this mobile Brookstone showroom. The tester had more than $6k worth of extra electronics, including a 600-watt Harman Kardon surround-sound system; 7-inch color monitor; a 6GB hard drive with media database and an entirely superfluous in-dash six-disc changer. Everything is voice controlled.

I didn’t fiddle with all the gizmos. Who has that kind of time? My only complaint with the inside: getting inside, through the rear passenger doors. The rear side glass intrudes on the top right, making the porthole smaller than you think.  It’s needlessly awkward on an otherwise carefully thought-out design.

I approached the driving part of the Mercedes GLK program with a prejudice: I like wagons. The GLK has more suspension travel than the C-Class upon which it’s based. It’s far more supple, without being soft. I could feel the ruts in the road (Yes, ruts. I didn’t baby this thing) without being jarred. The use of hydraulic dampers and blow-by valves sounds like steampunk technology, but it works.

This is especially true when combined with the 4Matic all wheel-drive, traction and stability control and thrown about in a square mile of fresh snow. Even with all-season rubber, this was a yak. Thanks to the power-to-weight ratio, with the all the processing tech being equal, this could be the best ski trip vehicle in Mercedes’ line up . . . or on the market.

Power comes from a 3.5-liter V6, putting out 268 horsepower. It’s as quick as it should be. The automatic transmission was a seven-speed Zen koan. So many gears, so much wheel-spin management and suspension adjusting and brake control. In other words, I have little idea what it was doing at any given moment, but whatever it did seemed appropriate to the situation. If you consider the best transmission the one you never have to think about, you don’t need to think about this one.

The Mercedes GLK’s brakes are as expected: powerful enough to haul you down from speed before the cops can haul you off to jail. Mercedes has always taken their stoppers seriously and it shows. Everything is firm and fluid. Again, I’ve got to compliment the suspension, which sucked up inertia in ways I don’t fully understand.

And slowly, as the miles clicked by, I became a fan. I still don’t get the whole tall wagon deal. This one is derivative in intent and purpose. It won me over with genuine driving chops. The GLK was not the first to the small SUV market, but it’s the best. The vehicle will find favor amongst financially-challenged Mercedes SUV fans. But it’s also Mercedes’ best “entry level” product in decades. If it was a book, it would be called “How to Win Friends and Win More Friends.”

Exterior

Outside, all four of our Euro wagons could have easily been designed by the same person. The 535xi strikes the most masculine poses with the raked headlamps and long hood. Better yet, Chris Bangle was on vacation when the rear was designed. Overall, this German speaks of solid, unfussy design.

From the land of ABBA 2008, the Volvo has lost its trademark flat rear window (and with it some cargo room). And yet it still manages to be the mid-west farm girl of the pack: wholesome and attractive but miles and miles from sexy.

VW’s Passat retains the brand’s ubiquitous chrome schnoz while seemingly longing to be a Volvo and BMW all at the same time. Way to split the difference Wolfsburg!

And last, and in this department least comes the minger of the pack: the E350. Seriously Dr. Z, what’s up with that rear? Any self-respecting modern German with a trunk like that would have been on Nip/Tuck by now. Overall winner: BMW

Interior

While three of the wagons might look similar on the outside, the inside is where the differences really show. Mercedes seems to have picked “Buick chic” for their interior design theme. While there are high quality parts in this cabin, my tester’s were ill-fitted and accompanied by cheap feeling knobs, questionable plastic and an interior design from Detroit. Contact with the steering wheel when in motion is generally considered a requirement; sadly the E350′s tiller if full of highs and lows. I dig the burl wood and leather combo, but the rubbery buttons and oddly styled airbag are serious turn offs.

The E350 wagon’s only real advantage: seven passenger capacity. The Merc is the only hauler in this matchup that offers ye olde 70s flash back rearward facing child seats. Actually, as they’re sized for Lilliputians and their use precludes cargo, forget it. Despite being the second most expensive in this lineup, the fully loaded Merc wagon delivers none of the toys its 66 grand price tag implies: no radar cruise control, lane departure warning, blind spot info, no heads up display, night vision, not even parking sensors. In the gadget shoot-off, the half-price Passat beats the Merc hands down. For shame.

The 535’s interior is typical BMW: Goth. It’s assembled with proper Germanic precision, and the materials quality is suitably high. Other than anal retentive stylistic qualms about the arm rest, the awkward cup holders and the much maligned iDrive controller are the cabin’s only significant quirks. If you’re a gadget freak, the much-maligned mouse-driven controller is a boon; you can even adjust the percentage of air you or your passenger would like to come out of the dash air vents. iDrive 4.0 debuts in Spring 2009, promising even more with web updates and an integrated hard drive.

Inside the Swede, Volvo’s XC70 T6 has taken IKEA perfection to all new levels. The build quality is on par with the Bimmer’s, but Volvo’s ditched shiny wood trim for a subdued matte finish. Simplicity is the XC70s game: all the buttons are clear, logical, glove/blue rinse brigade-friendly and easy to use. Practicality is Volvo’s trump card; the XC offers a whopping 51 percent more cargo room than the BMW (seats upright) and more load carrying options than The Container Store.

The XC70 is also the only vehicle in this quartet rated to tow anything (3300lbs). Kiddie friendly features include an available dual screen entertainment system, booster seats and an available built-in kennel for multiple Vallhund transportation.

The Passat’s interior duplicates the BMW’s black theme, without the same attention to fit and finish quality. Buttons and switches feel solid, but don’t expect leather seats or other sybaritic touches. Gadget lovers will appreciate the umbrella holders, decent Nav system, keyless drive and a bevy of stanard and not-too-expensive optional features.

Engines

Crank-up the engines in these family haulers and the lines between them are drawn even more clearly. The Passat’s 2.0-liter turbo engine is an excellent four cylinder powerplant. But in this pack, two extra pistons buy far more refinement than VW’s highly evolved four-banger can muster. With 200 ponies under the hood and the lightest curb weight in the group, the Passat gets to 60 in a respectable 7.4 seconds.

The E350s 3.5-liter V6 looks great on paper. In reality, the power comes on late, especially when sampled back-to-back with the turbo engines in this crowd. And the Merc has more weight to carry around. Mercedes claims a 6.9 second 0 – 60 time, but I failed to break seven.

BMW and Volvo both come to this fight with a 3.0-liter inline six engine. BMW sports twin turbos; Volvo mixes it up with a single turbo with twin scrolls. These turbo wagons are far smoother and more aurally enjoyable than the Merc or the Vee Dub. Volvo’s T6 engine offers excellent linear response. Unfortunately, the Aisin automatic seems reluctant to shift when pressed hard; it ends up hunting for gears when things get hilly.

Push the go-pedal in anger— as grandfather clock-carrying antique dealers are wont to do— the BMW is the obvious winner. With a 5.8 second sprint to 60 (the XC70 does it in seven flat), you’ll find yourself forgetting you are piloting the mommy-mobile BMW. If “normal” cliff face depreciation isn’t painful enough, there’s even an optional manual transmission. Sleeper? Q-ship? You bet.

Handling

Throw a curve at these wagons and you can pretty much guess what happens. The Passat gets scared and runs for the edge of the road. The Volvo wallows (thanks to an SUV-like 8.3″ of ground clearance_. The Mercedes electronic nannies remind you that a station wagon is not supposed to be fun to drive. The BMW hikes up its flared fenders and carves up the road. With a near 50/50 weight distribution and a rear wheel-drive biased AWD system, the oxymoronic ultimate driving wagoneer has but one choice.

Safety

Sadly, IIHS and NHTSA crash test data is not available for all of these vehicles. So we turn to Euro NCAP, which gives a star rating along with a numeric score for adult occupants, child occupants and pedestrians hit by the car. Volvo’s five-star adult rating shows their reputation for safety is well deserved. The Passat and E350 run a close second (also five stars but a slightly lower score of 33 vs 34).

The BMW crashes in with a four-star rating and a score of 29. Child protection scores come in at four stars all around (child scores were not available for the E350). The XC70 comes equipped with Volvo’s WHIPS whiplash prevention system, rated best in the business by Euro NCAP. Combine that with built in two-stage child booster seats and an allergy free interior and the Volvo is the winner in this category.

Value

In terms of value (a.k.a. quality for the money), there’s a clear winner. The BMW is the performance and gadget king– but that will cost you with a price tag that easily goes over $70k. The Volvo is middle of the road at $37,250 base and $53,215 as tested, offering most of the same features as the 535 with the benefit of soft roader ability. The E350 crashes this party with the second biggest price tag, the fewest goodies brought to the table and styling only its mother could love. Advantage Passat.

Final Ranking

4. Mercedes E350 Wagon – If you want to get a wagon and all that matters to you is that it has a Mercedes badge on it, then the E350 Wagon is for you. Sure, it’s more exclusive than the XC70 and Passat , but it has to be based more on its lack of features and lackluster styling than its price tag and badge snob value would indicate. A well deserved last place goes to the E350 Wagon.

3. Volkswagen Passat 2.0T Wagon – The Passat is the undisputed value leader in this pack. The 2.0L turbo engine isn’t appreciably slower than the Volvo or Merc, but it is more frugal. Interior quality is very good for this price point and the feature/gadget compliment is competitive– with the notable exception of good iPod connectivity. Third place and best value pick is the Passat Wagon 2.0T.

2. Volvo XC70 T6 - Most wagon buyers are after kid, dog and crap schlepping ability. This is where the Volvo shines. With the largest cargo capacity, kid-friendly features and enough safety acronyms to provide Lincoln with model names for the next century, a very close second place and the overall practicality pick goes to the Vovlo XC70 T6.

1. BMW 535xi Wagon - OK, this is not one of those Car and Driver deals where the BMW always wins cause the reviewers don’t have to spend their own money and they tend to choose the best hoonmobile. The 535xi is a deeply satisfying vehicle, aesthetically and dynamically. You don’t have to be an enthusiast to love it. But if you’re not when you buy it, you will be later.

"Heir ist Ihr Mercedes C180." The attractive Europcar clerk handed me the keys and pointed to a basic looking silver Mercedes nestled in between two extremely seductive Alfa Romeo wagons. Sitting next to the two beauties, the C180K looked more like Miss Moneypenny instead of Vesper Lynd. Restrained and elegant, the new C-Class dropped last year's goofy ovoid look and returned to the timelessly classic wedge shape of the late 1970's.

Being the cheapest in the C-Class range, you get a hood ornament, body colored door handles and plastic wheel covers. The C180K offers none of the chrome disco bauble trinkets found on the North American C300, and its all the better for it. The C180K feels eminently secure in its inexpensive roots, proclaiming to the world that you purchased an engineering masterpiece, not a tarted-up special (cough Lincoln cough).

The unadorned minimalism continues inside; the only gleaming surface you'll find is a polished aluminum six-speed manual gear lever. High-grade black plastic and a few chrome touches accent the rest of the C180K's interior and gauges. Power windows, locks, climate control and a small Nav screen hidden away in the top of the dash are the only options. For a mere 30k Euros, you get what you need und nothing more (unless you need a place to put your coffee).

Everything about the C180K's interior reeks of superior design and craftsmanship, from the ergonomically perfect cloth-covered seats, to materials that feel as though they were constructed to survive a nuclear blast. The C180K shows every Euro's worth of its cost in its absolute perfect construction.

Putting the infrared key into the slot, I cranked the Merc's diminutive 1.8-liter supercharged four-cylinder powerplant. The engine places 156bhp and a torquey 230Nm at your disposal, with a solid little thrum exiting the single chrome exhaust pipe. The engine revs as smoothly as it sounds, and, surprise, it does so with puppy-dog eagerness. Depressing the perfectly weighted clutch (yes, a manual) and slipping the vague-feeling gear lever into first, I pulled out of the carpark and headed straight for the autobahn.

The smallest engine in the C felt right at home puttering around Kaiserslautern. Despite the hefty 3400lbs, the C180K felt sprightly and nimble around the narrow streets, weaving around Smart cars, Golfs and BMWs. The steering was light and tossable.

The firm-yet-compliant ride was brand faithful. Whether surmounting cobblestones, concrete or brick, the C180K was a planted, communicative and comfortable city car. Never wanting for power, easy to shift, the C gave everything, demanded nothing.

Amy, my electronic navigatrix, told me to turn left to merge onto the A6 autobahn. Und now it's time to learn whether the downmarket Merc had upmarket aspiration.

Shifting to third, flooring the accelerator, the C180K moved forward at an adequate pace. A useful 100kmh arrived in about nine seconds. I've driven faster cars, and I've driven slower. The C180K slots nicely between the two, in that special place where hot-footing into a merge requires some attention, but not a lot. And then you're done.

Entering the unrestricted speed zone, I mashed the gas again. Expecting the engine to run out of puff, I looked on in amazement as the engine kept pulling. 140kmh flashed by. The steering tightened-up, the suspension hugged the ground and the cabin remained quiet. When 160kmh rolled around, I shifted gears. The Merc continued to plunge ahead.

The wind noise increased slightly as we topped 260kmh (downhill), yet the little Merc remained as composed as Yoda in a flotation tank. When the engine finally petered-out on the flat and level, the C180K was doing over 130mph, in the rain, in the Alps, at night. And my passengers were sound asleep. We averaged 40mpg coming back from Munich. Astounding.

It's been years since I've driven a car so completely cohesive. The C180K was inexpensive, but never cheap. It wasn't powerful, but it was fun to drive. It delivers excellent fuel economy. Priced right, the low-C could well help Mercedes NA restore some lost luster.

Of course, mechanical and electronic reliability are the ultimate hurdles for a true return to greatness. I remain skeptical, but the odds just got better for American mid-market motorists willing to bet on a Benz.

The 2006 Mercedes S65 was the first model where the automaker's in-house uber-tuners (AMG) massaged the standard issue triple "T." They coaxed the powerplant's output to heroic levels: 604 horsepower and 738 lb. ft. of torque. Why the Mercmeisters decided to drop this gi-normous powerplant into the last year of the previous S Class is anyone's guess; it preordained owners to extra-cataclysmic depreciation.

Did the owners know they were lighting C-notes on fire? Who knows? At the risk of being labeled an unrepentant capitalist, one man's cash conflagration is another man's sense of smug satisfaction. I found no less than 18 S65s on line. Prices ranged from $60k to $90k, depending on miles. I drove two S65s extensively, earning myself a traffic violation in my quest for knowledge.

Let's address the mileage issue right off the bat. Driven sensibly, an S65 averages 17 mpg overall. That's not bad for a 5k pound leviathan. And that's all I've got to say about that.

The engine's aural delights are evident only upon start-up. The motor barks authoritatively then settles to a whisper, no matter where one is in the rev range. The driving experience is akin to flying a 747. There are millions of pounds of thrust whenever you wish, but there's too much mass to ever feel like you're moving sprightly. The throttle is limo-compliant; not much happens during the first two inches of travel. Follow your natural instinct is to press harder and you'd better have the wheels pointed straight ahead, unless there are no other planes, I mean vehicles nearby.

At full throttle, the S65's turbos whistle louder than the engine roars. (And that's saying something.) Once the twin impellers spool up, you immediately understand how Boeing's biggest get off the ground. Zero to 60 takes four seconds. Porsches? Pffff! Even sport motorcycles are an easy kill.

Despite the Swabian anti-gravity device known as Active Body Control, the S65 plows mightily through sharp bends. High speed sweepers are another matter; the big Merc is endlessly, frighteningly competent. The S65 AMG puts the Gee in GT. The brakes are like the throttle: not much happens in the first inch or two, then the giant binders impart the most G-force the luxobarge can generate. Who knew 747s could land on an aircraft carrier?

While the S65's cabin doesn't offer a Bentley-esque sense of occasion, the [other] German transcontinental express embodies a sense of timelessness. In other words, the S65's interior is hopelessly conservative. There is, of course, a sybarite of luxury touches. All visible surfaces are swathed in fragrant, soft touch leather, stitched to an inch (millimeter?) of its life. My desk should be made of such wood.

Amazingly, the S65's seats are softer than any modern day Cadillac's or Lexus'. The Merc's thrones include "drive dynamic:" side bladders inflate inversely to the direction of turn-in during cornering, to better brace the driver. In reality, it feels like a poorly trained masseuse pummeling you in all the wrong places. More usefully, fans blow cool air through the perforated leather seats. 

Otherwise, the gizmo count is a little light, especially compared with today's entry-level Infinitis. The satellite radio and a navigation system shows virtually no road names on the display, despite having a DVD source drive. Your Mercedes dealer will gladly hit you up for $2k-plus to rectify the factory's oversight in the Bluetooth department. At least the Bose sound system is better in this application than virtually any other, with an outstanding sound field. Double-paned windows keep ambient sound to a minimum, adding to the concert hall sensation.

Two years ago, when new, the Mercedes S65 sold for $180k. I bought a pristine example with 23k on the clock for $70k. There are still two years or 27k miles left on the original manufacturer's warranty. The nice folks over at leasecompare.com were kind enough to write me a two-year lease, so I will never have to worry about maintenance or how many times she was ridden hard and put away wet.

To paraphrase Charles Dickens, this is the worst of times and this is the best of times. If you're looking for maximum bang for the buck, or a Mercedes built like they used to, there are many fine AMG models waiting for a new home. The S65 AMG is The Daddy.     

Four-hundred fifty-one horses. That’s the headline number produced by the 6.2-liter V8 crammed into the 3993 lbs. C-Class' snout. It sure doesn’t look lunatic. Yes, there are some tacky pieces of body kit, including a gaudy bumper that speaks of Honda Civics down at the 7-11. But the C63 is a butch little bastard whose hunkered stance and müde autoreifen convey more solidity than Brando at the end of Streetcar.

Aside from my test car’s porno-quality cream-colored leather seats and door panels, the C63’s cabin adds nothing to the sense of occasion– which may or may not be the point. A mere three grand buys you hyper-bolstered sport seats, completely unsuitable for anyone who’s ever eaten a deep fried mozzarella stick.

Drive the C63 around town and you'd never know a murderer lives just beyond the firewall. Burbling around the Best Buy parking lot (where DO the ultra rich hang out these days?), the mini-Merc seems like a normal, albeit brisk, shrunken S. In town, the C63’s sublime suspension  tackles all; this ain't no hard-edged tooth-chip express.

Toggle the AMG’s transmission from C (for Comfort) to M for (Manubetterbereadyforthis), grind the gas pedal into the carpet and the C63 parachutes into Afghanistan with the Tenth Mountain Division, all guns blazing. As you’d expect from a combat-ready sedan, time suddenly slows down. The C63’s massive meats shriek and hop around as they desperately try to do something, anything with 443 ft.-lbs. of torque (torque is more modest 369 lb ft from 2000-6250 rpm). You can hear the V8 nuking gasoline; the mega-motor is screaming like a pissed off bear with a megaphone. HOLY SHIT!

Time resumes its normal pace. It has been exactly one second since mashing the gas. The tach needle rockets around. The LCD in the center of the speedo flashes "UP! 2" Pull the damn shift paddle! Second gear is gone before it arrives. The engine is doing a passable imitation of a jet exhaust. At 4.3 seconds, we’re passing sixty. I need to upshift again. Third gear at 5000 pm and the deep, throaty roar indicates V3. I’m mainlining sex, and power, and drugs into my arms. And I like it.

After 9.2 seconds, we're in triple digits. The C63 crests 100 miles per hour on its way to Mach 2. And get this: it was totally an accident. I just was just trying to ingest a little more of that engine bellow, the closest approximation to crack/cocaine money can buy, and probably a lot more dangerous. But it's not my fault.

There's so much power lingering about, it's a wonder the C63 AMG doesn't simply implode when you nail the throttle. The only problem: trying to power out of corners in third or fourth gear. With the torque closer to its peak, the wheels can't deal with all the activity. Yes, we're going sideways– in spite of an optional $4k limited slip differential lock. Lift a little off the gas and everything is jake again. You can absolutely massacre corners at arbitrarily chosen speeds.

The suspension is miraculous. If every car was like this, we'd never bother to fix potholes. I swear you cannot feel them, in spite of the low profile tires and 18" wheels. And the huge brakes scrub off enormous speed in less time than it takes to yell “radar!” And thank God for that.

The C63 AMG is not cheap. The $54,565 sticker competes squarely with the legendary BMW M3, not to mention a regular E350. Oh, did I mention my tester punched out at $70k? And the C63 won't get any love from the Prius people, what with single-digit mileage. But this, my chain saw-wielding, carbon positive friends, is a bargain.

The biggest problem with the C63 AMG: many of the C63's virtues are available in, gulp, a regular C-Class.  I'm not saying buy a C300 instead. I'm saying you the C63 AMG needs a lot of lebensraum. Otherwise, you’ll spend your life in that special place called “time exposed to danger,” blasting past the guy in a Lexus RX350 who's blocking "the windy road" to work (at 60 mph). But if you can afford the C63 and all the depreciation that AMG implies, and you have the context in which to drive it, the C63 proves that all's fair in love and war.

Walking around the Mercedes GL class, I struggled to find inspiration. The SUV's descending belt line and downwards sloping swage lines create a forward facing arrow-like shape– which does an excellent job of hiding the GL's massive bulk. It's a Midwest corn silo SUV; the closer you get, the more amazed you are at its size. But the overall effect is squared off and blunt, even workmanlike. The GL's snout– complete with bootylicious big Benz badge– rescues the beast from invisibility on both the brand and design level.   

I climbed up the side of the beast, planted myself behind the wheel and began looking for the CB radio, finding only the usual Mercedes COMAND stack. The view from the driver's throne is certainly commanding– as long as your viewing angle doesn't dip lower than 30 degrees below the horizon. Beneath that, all things are invisible– small children, motorcycles, Toyotas.

The GL320's materials quality isn't up to Range Rover's "tough luxury," but the assembly is outstanding. The ‘Bama-built Benz looks and feels built to last (as in longevity, not relative traffic position). Less enjoyably, the not-so-cheap tester's range of adjustments and toys were quite limited, and the sound system's quality and functionality had me searching for my IPod. On the positive side, the GL's interior space utilization and practicality– multiple seat flips, cupholders, cubbies, etc.–  is ideal for a large family with a gaggle of messy tikes.

Including the conjunction, the big Benz' driving experience can be summed up in three words: imperious and impervious. Straight line driving is dreamy and plush, with no vibrations to speak of. Other than that… the GL 320's limited visibility rules-out quick and aggressive lane changes; every move requires careful planning. Fortunately, I was only required to turn twice in 100 miles, so I didn't have much opportunity to experience the pleasures of helming the leaning tower of Benz.

The GL 320 CDI's steering was a tad vague at the straight ahead and the brakes oddly squishy, but the dynamics were wholly appropriate with the rest of the driving experience. I wasn't bothered about testing the stoppers' performance in a panic stop; I felt I could pretty much run over or through anything that crossed my path without noticing (save in a legal and moral sense). Cruising along serenely, captain of a dreadnought class vehicle, I instantly understood why these giant SUV populate the American interstates.

And if perchance I ventured to Big Bear, I felt confident the GL 320 could handle anything nature threw my way. Like most Mercedes owners/drivers, I've seen the commercials. What more do you want? One button off-road handling and traction gizmo recalibration? Done. Seventy-five hundred pounds of towing capacity? Riva owners of the world rejoice!

The GL 320 CDI's diesel engine's performance is extremely well suited to the vehicle's mellow mission. Although the GL CDI's 3.0-liter turbocharged V6 powerplant produces "only" 215hp, the oil-burning SUV drives like a tsunami. It accumulates speed relentlessly, surfing on a never-ending wave of torque (398 lb-ft @ 1,600 – 2,800 rpm). The truck had enough power to indulge every passing whim with calm assurance, while tree stumps quivered in fear.

Given the GL's 5313 pound curb weight and the aforementioned braking pillow-cum-pedal, I had to temper my accelerative enthusiasm, lest I evoke runaway train metaphors. Pricing for this leviathan starts in the mid $50k's, but quickly makes its way into the $70k's.

And speaking of money– or at least political correctness– anyone who purchases a giant SUV must, at some point, face the mileage issue. The BlueTec diesel powering the GL 320 CDI offers a great salve to the well-heeled, environmentally-conscience SUV driver. I managed 23 mpg at a steady state 80mph. In EPA terms, the GL320 CDI represents a 30 percent improvement over its gas-equivalent.

At last, the best of the German-engineered modern diesel engines are making their way to the US of A, erasing all memories of the Detroit's abortive efforts in the 1970s. These next gen diesels offer significant fuel saving, cleanliness and outstanding drivability. And now that we're finally getting great diesels, the price of the fuel has rendered mileage gains moot, and obviated rational contemplation of the diesel engine's price premium. 

But don't let this hinder your consideration of a diesel-powered truck or car. If you appreciate torquey smooth performance, the GL320 CDI's diesel is the next best thing to a powerful, thirsty, expensive, CO2-belching V12.