With Saab’s death dragging on month after month, fans of Sweden’s plucky little auto industry haven’t had much to celebrate recently. Volvo launched the most powerful car in its history, the 325-horspower Volvo S60 T6 R-Design, and hardly anyone bothered to notice. When one of the buff books got around to testing the compact all-wheel-drive sport sedan, they compared it to a four-pot front-wheel-drive Buick, and concluded that the Buick is better. Against the Audi S4 I found the S60 a clear second. Those seeking a segment-leading Swede need not despair, though. Just do what I did right after driving the S60 in Charleston, WV, and check out a different, less mature segment: compact premium SUVs. The XC60 T6 R-Design, with a couple of power bumps since it was introduced two years ago, might just be the best of the bunch.

Though no one will mistake it for a Honda, the XC60’s exterior has never worked for me in gray-cladded, small-wheeled base trim. The R-Design treatment addresses my reservations, and then some. Paint the cladding body color and fit 20-inch five-spoke wheels, and suddenly the overhangs don’t appear oddly stretched. Most likely this is the look the designers had in mind when they were carving the clay.

Scandinavian furniture has been popular among a certain social stratum for decades for a reason: northern Europeans are masters of tastefully stylish modern design. The same aesthetic has been applied inside the latest Volvos, including this one. Nothing remotely over the top, but even in the tested two-tone gray much warmer than a German auto interior. Materials are more-or-less in line with the price.

This being a Volvo, the seats are among the most comfortable you’ll find. Much cushier than those in German competitors, yet also properly supportive fore-aft and laterally. But the S60 sedan has similar, perhaps identical seats, and they haven’t been enough to win comparison tests. So what’s the XC60 got that the related sedan doesn’t? Answer: a higher, much more open driving position. You can more easily see over the dash and between the more upright pillars of the crossover. The XC60 might not be ye olde 240, but it’s more of a spiritual successor than the new S60. This enhances both perceived agility and actual safety. The driver rightfully feels more confident behind the wheel.

The XC60 is also a much happier place for rear seat passengers. The crossover’s back seat is much roomier and mounted comfortably high off the floor. And cargo space? A sedan with a smallish trunk can’t begin to compete with a crossover. The front passenger seat folds to extend the cargo area in both, a rarity in premium cars, but this feature is even more useful with a rear hatch. The V60 wagon variant, currently not offered in North America, would put up more of a fight.

For 2012, the XC60 T6 R-Design has the same powertrain as the S60 T6 R-design, a transversely-mounted 325-horsepower, 354 pound-feet turbocharged 3.0-liter inline six connecting to all four wheels via a manually-shiftable six-speed automatic and Haldex-based all-wheel-drive system:

Sorry, couldn’t resist sneaking in this photo. The dealership’s owner parks his personal collection in the service area, and it includes a “continuation” Cobra. The service writer who popped the hood for me reported that this beautiful multi-throttled V8 was a $30,000 option. The Volvo’s engine:

The Polestar tune adds 25 horsepower and 29 pound-feet to the engine that powered last year’s R-Design and that continues to power the regular T6. The engine in the 2010 R-Design was good for “only” 281 horsepower. You can get more than 325 horsepower in a compact sedan. But in the compact SUV segment this is the most potent powerplant available. (At least on paper; BMW might understate the output of the X3 xDrive35i’s 300-horsepower engine.) The XC60 crossover weighs significantly more than the S60 sedan, 4,236 to 3,877 pounds. But from the driver’s seat the XC60 feels at least as quick, perhaps even a little quicker. Credit the more commanding driving position, from which you can better view the outside world as the Volvo passes rapidly through it. The Haldex system does have the same limitations here. It doesn’t instantaneously shunt power to the rear wheels, so with a hard launch there’s a split second of wheel spin and torque steer.

By any objective measure, the S60 outhandles the XC60. There’s no defeating the laws of physics as they apply to extra pounds and a center of gravity farther from the ground. But expectations are also lower for a crossover, and direct competitors are less talented. Audi offers no S variant of its Q5. And the BMW X3 xDrive35i, while certainly an outstanding performer, has vague steering and a cold personality. The XC60 does not have the S60’s selectable-assist steering. The system it does have is similar to the sedan’s in its “light” setting, but with a less artificial feel. Not sportily hefty, and not as communicative as the system in an Audi Q5, but intuitive and good for perceived agility. The crossover’s suspension tuning isn’t as aggressive as the sedan’s nor is it abetted by brake-based torque vectoring, and partly as a result its handling feels more fluid and natural while its ride feels smoother and steadier. Add in the XC60’s driving position, and I actually found it more fun to drive than the more stiffly suspended S60 or any competing compact crossover. While the BMW would be quicker along a challenging road, I enjoyed the Volvo more. Well, until I had to stop. Even more than in the S60, Charleston’s steep windy roads made it clear that the Volvo’s brakes aren’t as strong as its engine.

Equipped like the related sedan, the XC60 lists for about $2,000 more. The R-Design starts at $44,025. Add a couple packages and the blind-spot warning system to get heated seats, keyless access, nav, and an outstanding audio system, and you’re at $50,175. But, as is often the case with a crossover, the XC60 includes more features than the S60. Things like a power liftgate, two-panel (instead of conventional) sunroof, bi-directional obstacle detection, rear privacy glass, and a slew of cargo-related accessories. Adjust the XC60’s price for this additional content using TrueDelta’s car price comparison tool, and the XC60 emerges the better value by about $900. And a similarly-equipped BMW X3 xDrive35i? It’s $3,750 more before adjusting for feature differences, and about $2,700 more afterwards.

The XC60 T6 R-Design is roomier, more comfortable, more functional, and more fun-to-drive than the S60 sedan. A BMW X3 is a stronger performer and better handler, but the Volvo has more attractive styling, a more natural feel, and those oh-so-comfy seats. On top of this, the XC60 fits Volvo’s heritage. While three generations of R sedans have never quite achieved top shelf status, people have long gone to Volvo for fast, functional wagons. The XC60 is the natural evolution of these wagons, a little taller but casting a smaller shadow. Car buyers seem to agree. It’s easy to find a dealer with plenty of S60s in stock. XC60s are another matter. If I were to buy a premium brand compact crossover or a Volvo, it would be this one.

Vehicle provided by Chris Myers of Smith Company Motor Cars in Charleston, WV. Chris can be reached at 304-746-1792.

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

Even since the groudbreaking 1983 5000, Audi has been a leader in car design. But, let’s face it, they haven’t broken any new ground recently. The current S4 is attractive, but also safe. With the the latest S60, Volvo attempted to break out of its traditional box without losing all visual ties to its past. When fitted with its chunky standard equipment 17-inch wheels, the Volvo S60 overly resembles some cars that cost far less, among them the Oldsmobile Alero from over a decade ago and the 2006-2011 Civic. The R-Design treatment helps take the sedan upscale, with a subtle body kit and bi-color five-spoke 18-inch wheels. Some people will take exception with the Volvo’s distended snout, but overall it is a sporty, stylish sedan that looks like nothing else in the segment.

The interior will be familiar to anyone who has been inside a current Volvo. The style is minimalist modern, with more character than you’ll find inside the Audi (or the other German compacts). Materials are good but short of luxurious. My main problem with the cabin: the center stack buttons for the infotainment system are hard to find and to operate at first glance.

I first drove the new R-Design in Charleston, West Virginia, in the midst of a week with an Audi S4. Given the strong similarity between the two sedans’ specs, and roads far more challenging than you’ll find anywhere near Detroit, the time and place were ideal. The first thing I noticed after climbing out of the Audi and into the Volvo: the relief provided by the latter’s much cushier—yet still laterally and longitudinally supportive—sport bucket seats. Later, while sampling a second S60 R-Design around Detroit, I had to wonder if the Volvo’s seats were overly squishy. But better too much cushion than too little, as in the Audi.

In my head the S60 is a larger car than an S4 or 335i. But in reality it’s in the same size class, and this is more evident with the swoopier shape of the current car. While the Volvo’s front seat feels roomier than that in the Audi, its rear seat, mounted low and just roomy enough for a pair of average adults, is very much that of a compact sedan. At 12 cubic feet, the Volvo’s trunk is no larger than the Audi’s marginal bin. But the Swedish sedan does have much more room in its center console and glove compartment. Neither is a useful size in the Audi.

The real story with the S60 T6 R-Design is its engine, a turbocharged 3.0-liter transversely-mounted inline six tuned by Polestar to produce 325 horsepower at 6,500 rpm and 354 foot-pounds of torque at 3,000 rpm. The six is hard to fault, with no detectable lag, just a strong smooth rush of power, and a thrilling (yet never overbearing) soundtrack. It’s not quite as efficient as the latest direct-injected competitors, with EPA ratings of 18 city, 26 highway (the S4 manages 18/28 with a seven-speed automated dual-clutch manual). Around the burbs while babying the car the trip computer reported 23.5. Exercise the engine and the stat drops into the mid-teens (or even into the single digits if you give the twin scroll turbo no rest). Otherwise Volvo’s six is as good as any and better than most. Just one more cylinder than you get in the S60 T5, but so much better in just about every way.

Such an outstanding engine deserves a better partner than the manually-shiftable six-speed automatic. Though not a bad box, the Aisin has a tendency to lug the engine when left to its own devices and shifts could be smoother and quicker. To get the proper gear you often must intervene, and no paddles are provided for the task, only the shift lever. Currently this transmission is mandatory: no automated dual-clutch or conventional manual is offered. In the S5 you have a choice of either.

The R-Design’s engine is strong enough that aggressive throttle mapping isn’t needed to exaggerate its potency. But Volvo has fitted the car with the most aggressive throttle mapping I’ve experienced in recent memory. This does lend the car an overtly sporty character that’s too often lacking in current Lexusized cars, but smooth starts require conscious effort. Switch into the Volvo from another car, unthinkingly hit the gas to get the car moving and everyone’s heads will be snapped into the pillowy headrests.

The heft of the S60 T6 R-Design’s steering can be varied among three levels (but only if the car isn’t moving). The difference is most evident at low speeds, where “light” and “heavy” feel, well, light and heavy. “Medium” falls in between, but closer to “heavy.” I couldn’t decide which mode I liked best, as the car feels more agile with “light” but more planted with “heavy.” The amount of feedback isn’t much affected: there’s more than in past Volvo’s (including the previous R) but (of course) less sense of a direct connection with the front wheels than I’d prefer.

Now, unfortunately, we come to the S60 R-Design’s primary weakness: its chassis. Swedish engineers have done their best to mitigate the car’s inherently nose-heavy weight distribution, with a performance-oriented Haldex-based all-wheel-drive system (kicks in following the merest whiff of front wheelspin and torque steer) and brake-based torque vectoring. Push the car hard and it will adhere to your intended line. The tires make a difference: the West Virginia dealer car was fitted with ContiProContact all-seasons, while the press car wore ContiSportContact 3 summer tires. The latter felt sharper as their significantly higher limits were approached. And only as the car’s limits are approached does understeer overwhelm the electronic countermeasures.

The problem with this approach: especially when driving the car moderately hard you can feel the electronics selectively apply the brakes to force the chassis to hold a line it otherwise would not be capable of. Effective, but not nearly as transparent as some systems. The feel is artificial and forced rather than natural and fluid. You learn what the chassis is capable of, but you don’t feel it in your gut. Instead, your gut keeps telling you the chassis is going to do something else—like plow for the outside curve. This said, the S60 does feel better the harder it is driven.

The Audi S4, in contrast, feels balanced in addition to acting balanced, despite also having most of its weight over its front wheels. An optional active differential permits progressive yet never excessive oversteer upon your right foot’s command. The Volvo’s drivetrain is less flexible. And the Audi’s brakes are noticeably stronger than the Volvo’s. Add it all up, and the S4 can be driven along a mountain road with much more precision and confidence.

The Volvo rides more softly than the more firmly sprung and suspended Audi, but this advantage is compromised by its poorer control over body motions. The Volvo absorbs minor road imperfections better—it’s the superior Interstate cruiser—but provokes more head toss over larger bumps. Though certainly not nearly as crude, compared to the Audi the Volvo’s tuning recalls Detroit’s early attempts at “European sport suspensions.” Additional polish would be welcome.

The 2012 Volvo S60 T6 R-Design starts at $43,375. The car tested in West Virginia, with nav, outstanding 650-watt audio system, heated seats, keyless access and ignition, and blind spot monitors, listed for $48,125. Not cheap, but a similarly equipped Audi S4 checks in $7,700 higher even after a $450 adjustment for feature differences, based on TrueDelta’s car price comparison tool. So the Volvo might not handle as well as the Audi, but it also doesn’t cost nearly as much. On the other hand, a G37x costs about $4,000 less than the Volvo, but is not without its own shortcomings.

So the Volvo S60 T6 R-Design is fast and fun, but rough around the edges and simply trying too hard. Compared to the Audi S4, it’s more comfortable but less confidence inspiring. So it’s not an obvious choice over the obvious choice. Instead, it’s a viable choice for those who want a powerful premium compact sedan and who prioritize seat comfort—or who simply don’t want the same car their friends have. For the rest of us…another round or two of fine tuning could do wonders.

The first car tested was provided by Chris Myers of Smith Company Motor Cars in Charleston, WV. Chris can be reached at 304-746-1792. The second one was provided by Volvo with a tank of gas and insurance.

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

Quite a few of you balked at the idea of a $47,610 not-quite-midsize Volvo sedan. Well, for 2012 a T5 joins the S60 range. While the T6 might venture a bit deep into Audi and BMW territory, with a $31,850 base price the T5 is within striking distance of the similarly semi-premium front-drive Acura TSX and Buick Regal. But how much of the T6’s self-proclaimed naughtiness must one do without? Is the more affordable T5 a match for the Acura and Buick, much less the Germans?

Silver is not the new S60’s best color, and the standard 17-inch wheels also don’t do the long-nosed, high-belted exterior any favors. With “ember black metallic” paint and more delicate 18-inch alloys, the previously tested T6 was considerably more attractive. As tested, the T5 appears less upscale than some decidedly non-premium compacts. Not that a 240 looked upscale, either. But Volvo loyalists won’t recognize the object of their devotion in the S60’s coupe-like sweeping roofline. Which leaves the new S60…where?

The T5 has the same oh-so-Scandinavian interior as the T6, though without the $1,900 Premium Package (on both photographed T5s) the former’s seats are upholstered in T-Tec (think soft-sided luggage). The optional leather has an attractively heavy grain, and looks especially warm in “Beechwood.” Add the $800 Climate Package and the seats will also feel warm. Heated or not, these seats are among the most comfortable and properly supportive you’ll find. The Acura’s front buckets aren’t far behind, but the Buick’s are. The Regal wins back points for materials and workmanship. An especially sore point within the Volvo: the oversized shifter feels clunky and literally rings hollow. Though none of the cars in this class are especially foursome-friendly, the Volvo’s aft cabin is especially tight.

Unlike GM, Volvo realizes that 220-or-so horsepower is no longer enough for street cred. So ye olde boosted five kicks out 250 horsepower at 5,500 rpm in its latest iteration. While this is only ten more than the naturally-aspirated inline six offered in other Volvos, the T5’s peak torque of 266 pound-feet at 1,800 rpm outgrunts the six by 30. On paper it’s the superior engine. Drop a half-liter of displacement and AWD, and the EPA ratings improve from the T6’s 18/26 to the T5’s more respectable 20/30. This is better than the TSX V6 (18/27), Regal 2.0T (18/28), or the slightly larger Volvo S80 when fitted with the naturally-aspirated six (19/27), but not quite as good as an Audi A4 2.0T (22/30).

Problem is, the boosted five doesn’t deliver its numbers with the smooth feel and lusty sounds expected from a premium sport sedan. Despite the early torque peak, at low rpm the engine feels soft and responds sluggishly. Even the turbocharged four in the Buick sounds and feels better. The responsive, sweet-sounding six in the TSX is beyond comparison.

Handling similarly takes a hit. When I drove the T6 the salesperson said that Volvo was concerned that the car’s ride was too firm. The tires were a touch thumpy, but that car felt alive in a way no Volvo sedan had in recent memory. With the standard suspension, the S60 T5’s body motions are less well controlled. There’s more lean in turns and more bobbling over bumps. The Acura does a little better here, the Buick much better. The T5’s steering, though still satisfyingly quick, feels less direct and less precise than the T6’s. Partly because the Michelin Primacy tires lack grip, the stability control cuts in far too early. There’s no convenient button to dial it back; instead, this must be done through menus (think iDrive, but with the controls high up and to the right on the center stack). The Dynamic Package, with the T6’s 18-inch wheels, selectable effort steering, and firmer suspension, would close the handling gap with the Buick. It’s a must for anyone who cares about driving. But it also swells the price by $900. Even with this package, the T5 lacks the additional handling flexibility provided by the T6’s all-wheel-drive.

Even with the base suspension, the S60 T5 doesn’t ride as smoothly or as quietly as the Acura or the Buick. Compared to those cars it seems slightly raw, and not in a good way. The ears report a lesser car.

“Naughty” posturing notwithstanding, Volvo continues to push safety. “City Safety,” which can totally prevent hitting objects in front of the car up to 9 mph and minimize damage up to 18 mph, is standard on all S60s. I again lacked the nerve to test it. A full array of more commonly found safety features is also standard, of course.

Equip an S60 T5 to match the features of a $32,000 Buick Regal 2.0T or a $36,000 Acura TSX V6, and the MSRP ends up at $37,300. So not far off the latter, and very close to a similarly equipped $37,100 Audi A4 2.0T. Discounts should be larger on the Volvo, though.

Most notably, the Volvo S60 T5 starts a considerable $7,725 lower than the T6, but how much are you really saving? Equip both with heated leather, sunroof, adaptive xenon headlights, and the Dynamic Package, and the difference shrinks to $4,625, $36,250 vs. $40,875. (Add another $2,700 to either for nav plus a 650-watt surround sound audio system.) Volvo charges $2,000 for all-wheel-drive in the XC60 crossover, so figure $2,625 for the T6’s engine. A little steep for just one additional cylinder, but in this case it’s a must. Even if the inline six’s additional performance isn’t needed, the larger engine sounds and feels so much better than the cobby five—it adds ten grand to the perceived value of the car. The Germans have certainly charged much more for less.

Dwyer and Sons Volvo in Commerce Twp, MI, provided the car for this review. They can be reached at (866) 759-0593.

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

Judge me if you must, but when I think of “naughty Swede,” NSFW images of a blonde au pair in a slutty French maid outfit flash in my head. It therefore struck me as a bit odd that Volvo, long known for being the Birkenstock of the auto, would start running TV and internet ads calling the new S60 “naughty.” What exactly is a naughty Volvo? As the former owner of a V70R, I had to hit Volvo up for one to find out.

Now that Volvo belongs to the Chinese, it would seem that a new corporate direction is working its way through Gothenburg. It’s not some crazy new idea but an old one: profitability. Apparently Volvo’s new Asian masters want Volvo to actually make some cash, and to that end a drastic reduction in the brand’s US lineup is already underway. With an automotive austerity campaign underway, expect to see only a few Volvo models on showroom floors, with the S60 occupying the volume sales leader position. This of course places the new Swede in some serious competition with the likes of the Audi A4/S4, BMW 3-Series and Mercedes C-Class. Does Sweden’s most popular sedan have what it takes?

Though the new S60 has grown compared to the outgoing 2009 model, the competition has grown as well, meaning the safe cars from the land of ABBA are no longer a “half-step” between the vehicles from the German competition. With an overall length of 182-inches and a wheelbase of 109.3-inches, the S60 could even be said to be a “middle of the pack” contender. Similarly, the 300HP twin-scroll turbocharged 3-liter inline 6-cylinder engine and 6-speed automatic lands the new S60 solidly at the upper end of the Euro competition (at least on paper). But does that make the S60 “naughty”? Not quite.

The 2011 S60 carries a $37,700 base MSRP in T6 AWD trim ($30,975 for the newly announced T5 FWD model), which represents an increase of approximately $1000 over the previous top-end S60. Luckily, that’s still a relative bargain in the Euro segment where competition in the form of the BMW 335xi starts at $43,100 and Mercedes C350 starts at $39,990 (especially when you consider standard equipment). Volvo forum-fan boys are all aflutter over Volvo’s continuing price hikes. Sorry cheap Swede fans, the truth of the matter is Volvo needs to remain a premium brand in the USA to be profitable. Until we are all buying Chinese built Volvos, labor rates in the EU will keep Volvo’s premium cost structure and premium brand position.

From the outside, the new S60’s sheet metal is a departure from Volvo’s traditional past, but still retains the strong shoulders of the outgoing S60 and something of the iconic Volvo two-box style . If it were not for the over-sized proboscis, the design might rival the original S80’s form for the most elegant Volvo ever penned, but as it is, passengers and observers were mostly undecided whether they likes the new schnoz. Light pipes in the tail lamp modules, subtle swoops over the wheel arches, and a coupé-like C-pillar conspire to add a touch of modernity to the new S60, but taken as a whole the new S60 is still more conservative than mischievous. Naughty? I’m not so sure, especially without the bright orange paint our tester came with. I’m also not sure naughty sells cars; Audi’s latest cars wear sheet metal that is the “Midwest farm girl” of the auto industry, and their sales are on fire.

While the exterior might be a departure for Volvo, the interior is typical of the Nordic brand: high quality parts, logically-placed controls and subtle Scandinavian style. Volvo entered the 21st century with interiors that were class leading in design and materials, but in the past decade the competition has evolved and improved. While Audi may have little to fear, and I’m sure the next generation 3-series will continue to build on BMW’s interior renaissance, the S60 delivers materials an interior build quality on par with the best in the Euro luxury market. How about the rest of the competition? Mercedes’ C-class interior feels cheaper than the new S60 and the Acura TSX is cute but the fake wood and plastics are only a mild step above the Honda line.

Anyone familiar with Volvo’s product portfolio will feel right at home in the S60, as interior appointments are mainly borrowed from, or are subtly tweaked versions of those in the S80. From the seated-Swede shaped climate control buttons, to the large easy to use dials, the interior continues Volvo’s tradition of function and form being equally important. All the controls are easily within reach and fairly logically laid out. The only fly in the ointment is the key-fob slot to the right of the steering wheel. If you decide not to opt for the $550 “PCC” key-less go option, your fob will need to be inserted in this hole while driving, meaning the rest of the keys are free to bang on the dash ad nauseum. I understand the need to have a low MSRP, but really, given this design, the PCC key should be standard.

Our tester is proof that Volvo still loves the less pedestrian interior color combinations. In a world where even Subarus are suddenly becoming mainstream beige, we can only hope Gothenburg keeps the quirks and odd colors inside and out. In a world gone bland world, they make Volvos all the more interesting. Sadly the “Creamcicle” white/orange interior in some of the press photos is not an option in the USA. Pity. Still, the orangeish-brown leather interior is striking when accompanied by the shiny copper metallic paint job our tester had. Naughty? Bring me that Creamsicle interior or something in lime green and then we’ll talk.

If there is one area where the old S60 was severely lacking it was the electronic gizmo department. The 2011 S60 may not be revolutionary, but it is thoroughly modern. In addition to offering optional radar cruise control, lane departure warning, and monitoring your alertness, it also finally offers basic luxury features such as Bluetooth, iPod/USB integration, Satellite and HD radio as standard features. Speaking of audio, the base and up-level sound systems both deliver excellent sound with the 12-speaker Audyssey system easily matching the high-end systems from the competition in terms of clarity and beat-for-the-buck. The heart of the system is the all-new high resolution 7-inch screen (standard in the USA, other markets may get a standard 5-inch screen) is bright and clear with well-designed graphics and intuitive, logical menus. The new system combines audio, vehicle and navigation settings together and is controlled by a knob and button in the center console, or via a scrolling wheel/button on the steering wheel.

The interface proves to be fairly responsive and delivers high quality graphics, however with self-proclaimed competition being the BMW 3-Series, I have to ask why Volvo didn’t pop a BMW-like wide screen display in there? Opportunities lost. Still, the only thing I found myself missing was a broader range of voice commands for controlling audio devices, alá Ford Sync. The Swedish rumor mill indicates we should expect this same infotainment system to trickle down to the XC60 in a mid-cycle refresh and the S80/XC70 sometime later. Meanwhile, the system offers a nice twist to Volvo’s safety conscious reputation in that it allows quite a bit of leeway to fiddle with the infotainment system while in motion. Naghty? Perhaps.

Speaking of gadgets, rounding out the list on the new S60 is Volvo’s revised radar cruise control. The new system will now bring you to a complete stop and keep the vehicle stopped until traffic moves again. I have tested systems from Lexus, Jaguar, Land Rover, BMW, Ford and Infiniti and oddly enough the system in the new S60 is quite simply the best I have ever tested. Systems in cars costing three times more than the S60 don’t work this smoothly. Who knows what programming wizardry has been done under the electronic hood, but this system reacts quickly and without drama when a car cuts in front of you, it works well on fairly windy roads and doesn’t have the same strange “lag” that some systems do where they drop far behind the traffic when accelerating. Included with the radar cruise is a collision warning system that lets know you if you are tailgating and if a doom is impending. The system works we’ll and unlike similar systems from Ford we never experienced a “false alarm” caused by windy mountain roads. A Volvo that lets you drive feet-free, now that’s naughty.

One cannot review a Volvo without discussing safety. From collapsible steering columns, anti-whiplash seats and “anti-submarineing” guards to Volvo’s latest active safety systems that will intervene when you fail to, we can easily say the safety box is well and duly ticked. The biggest improvement in the new S60 is City Safety with pedestrian detection and full-auto-brake. Personally I think this system should be standard on all Volvo models, even if it means a higher base price. If you recall, the previous generation City Safety system saved my bacon in the XC60 I reviewed last year, so I’m confident it will do the same here. The S60 takes this system to the next level by detecting pedestrians as long as they are over 31-inches tall. While Volvo may have some egg on their corporate face for the failure of the system to act in some recent demonstrations, if the system keeps at least one person from plowing down little Jimmy running after a ball, then it’s worth it in my book. Oddly enough I was unable to find a volunteer to stand in front of the system so we could test it. Is a safer Volvo naughty? No, but I’ll take the safer car any day.

Heading out to the coast for some Highway 1 time I was hoping to find the S60’s inner daemon. Volvos in the past decade have been far from slow but lacked the engagement you find in a BMW or Audi. When the road gets twisty the new S60 delivers more than I expected but less than forum fanboys would hope for. The S60 chassis is very stable, surprisingly well balanced and delivers very confidant handling. The available adjustable electric power steering allows you to tune some heft into your steering, but regardless of mode it remains fairly isolated. While the S60 will never be a 335xi, it actually does manage to put the likes of the Audi A4 on notice. The 3-liter turbo engine our tester was equipped with is an eager and willing companion, as long as you put your foot in it. Tallish throttle mapping and a transmission programed for efficiency take a toll on the fun factor unless you are willing to romp on the go pedal often. Fortunately the car responds well to being flogged and easily delivered a 5.67 second run to 60 every time it was asked. Top speed? 130. Naughty? Not bad at all.

Speaking of those options, let’s talk pricing. The base MSRP of $37,700 for the T6 AWD trim, gets you the base city safety system that detects cars only (it will just plow Jimmy right over), dual-zone climate control, leather upholstery, 18-inch wheels, and more safety acronyms than I have ever seen in my life. Our tester was equipped with: the $2,100 “Technology Package” which included Adaptive Cruise Control, Collision Warning with Auto Brake, Pedestrian, Distance Alert, Driver Alert Control and Lane Departure Warning. We also had the $2,700 multimedia package: up-level audio with 650 watts, 12 speakers, Dolby pro logic, the voice command navigation system and a backup camera; $1,500 premium package including the moonroof, power passenger seat and steering Xenon headlights; $800 Climate package which included heated seats, heated washer nozzles, headlight washers, rain sense wipers and an air quality system. The above packages bumped our tester to $45,675 including a $875 destination fee.

While the BMW 335xi is faster and more fun to drive, similarly configured it tips the scales at $56,375. The slower RWD only C350 from Mercedes doesn’t offer the range of features as the S60 so it’s difficult to compare but the S60 ends up being cheaper when similarly configured. The most natural competition for Volvo appears to be the Audi A4/S4, while the S4 is faster and more powerful than the S60, similarly configured the S60 is almost $6,000 cheaper and the A4 2.0T lacks the zip for a similar price point.

At the end of a week with the S60 I can honestly say this new Volvo isn’t naughty at all, but that’s OK because this car is designed for real people. It’s not brash, nor loud, and it doesn’t scream ego. Instead the S60 T6 AWD is an extremely competent sedan that is well priced and offers compelling safety features. If an AWD Euro sedan is what you seek, the S60 should be at or near the top of your list. The newly announced S60 T5 model may yet be a better deal, as, priced at just over $30,000 starting, it delivers all the style, many of the same features without the AWD and 300HP. Volvo’s new S60 looks ready to do battle with the competition for another 8-9 years, let’s hope it doesn’t have to fight single-handedly for that long.

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

Performance statistics as tested:

0-60MPH: 5.67 seconds

30-60MPH: 3.5 seconds

Average economy: 24.5MPG

Remember the 240? Volvo clearly wishes you didn’t. Instead, they’d rather you think of the thoroughly redesigned 2011 S60 T6 as “naughty” despite a bevy of new safety features. Just a tease—again—or does this Volvo actually put out?

The 2001-2009 S60 added some curves to Volvo’s traditional Amana-inspired design aesthetic, but retained strong shoulders as a link to the past. With the 2011 sedan, the shoulders have been softened and flowing curves predominate. Front-drive packaging and safety standards have conspired to distend the nose, but this is the extent of the exterior’s flaws. Unless looking more than a little like a more tightly proportioned second-gen Olds Aurora also counts as a flaw. Volvo has not copied the recent Benz-BMW practice of adding extraneous details in a bid to dial up the drama. And yet the new S60 is more eye-catching than the German competition. Unfortunately, Oldsmobile is proof that excellent styling isn’t capable of saving a dying brand.

A note on the “ember black metallic” of the tested car. In photos it appears black, but in sunlight brown metallic undertones are evident. Interesting, but overly subtle.

The tastefully stylish theme continues inside the car, where as in other recent Volvos the influence of Scandinavian furniture design is evident. Materials are upscale without seeming opulent. A heavy grain to the leather lends character. In the center stack overly similar buttons ring a phone pad. Breaking these buttons up into logical groupings would make them easier to operate. Thankfully, four large knobs have been provided for the most common functions.

Front seats have long been a Volvo strength, and those in the new S60 continue this fine tradition, providing both excellent comfort and very good lateral support. The driving position is about perfect. The rear seat is a much less happy place. Despite a comfortably-shaped cushion the seat is not comfortable. Likely because of the coupe-like roofline, the cushion is mounted too low to the floor, and knee room is in short supply. The S60 has always seemed a half-size larger than the BMW 3-Series et al., but in the rear seat it certainly isn’t. Trunk space is similarly constrained, tying the 3 at 12 cubes.

When I drove (and reviewed) the XC60 R-Design a few months ago, I was impressed enough to wonder why the late V70 wasn’t as enjoyable to drive. After all, it should be easier to get a wagon, with its lower center of gravity, to handle well. And the straight six—unique in a transverse application—felt and sounded so good I wondered why anyone bothers with a V6. But couldn’t Volvo wring more than 281 horsepower out of a turbocharged 3.0-liter?

Well, for 2011 horsepower has been bumped to a nice, round, BMW-tying 300, at 6,500 rpm. Torque has also been bumped, to 325 pound-feet, all of it at least theoretically available from 2,100 to 4,200 rpm. In practice, the engine feels strong throughout its range, with hardly any turbo lag. Though it weighs nearly two tons, the latest S60 is a quick car. If only ex-parent Ford’s EcoBoost felt nearly this responsive or sounded nearly this good.

Unlike in the 2004-2007 R, no manual transmission is offered. The six-speed manually-shiftable automatic performs passably well, though it’s getting long in tooth. Newer transmissions are both more responsive and smoother.

The brakes feel firm and strong. Automatic-braking at low speeds (“City Safety” in Volvoese) is standard. A $2,100 Technology Package adds adaptive cruise, distance alert (a series of lights displayed on the lower windshield let you know when you’re getting too close, plus an audible alarm if a collision seems likely), automatic high-speed braking, pedestrian detection (on the Volvo site: “unprotected road users”), a driver alertness monitor, and lane departure warning. I did not test the automatic braking or pedestrian detection. Of the bunch, the distance alert is most likely to prove useful on a daily basis.

The standard all-wheel-drive system remains a Haldex design, though as in other recent Volvos it’s pre-charged to very quickly transfer torque to the rear wheels as needed. To this Volvo has added “corner traction control with torque vectoring.” What this means: the brakes are selectively applied to proactively counteract understeer. And it works. Until its high limits are approached the S60 has a very neutral feel for a nose-heavy car. Engage “sport mode,” seriously prod the throttle, and oversteer is even on the menu.

The biggest, most pleasant surprise with the new S60: the steering retains only a hint of the numbness that has long afflicted the marque’s cars, including the late, lamented R. By current luxury car standards it feels direct and almost communicative. The chassis has been similarly tuned with driving enthusiasts in mind. The new S60 still doesn’t feel as delicate or precise as a BMW 3-Series, and isn’t as engaging, but in terms of overall driving enjoyment it actually isn’t far off. The tested car wasn’t fitted with the $750 adaptive shocks. They’re not needed.

The dealer asked my opinion of the ride. Apparently Volvo asked them to. They’re concerned that it’s overly firm for the typical customer, and assured me that an optional “Touring Package” with a softer suspension is on the way. Personally, I wouldn’t want it. But I’m not the typical Volvo customer. That buyer is likely to find the ride overly firm. Not so much because it is firm as because the tires clomp over every bump and divot. Figure out how to eliminate this noise, and the ride would seem much better. Even with it, the new S60 sounds and feels like a premium sedan.

As it better, given the $47,610 sticker on the tested car. It’s possible to shave $2,100 by doing without the Technology Package, another $2,700 if you can live without the fantastic 650-watt audio system and nav, and so forth down to the $38,550 base price. When both cars are similarly loaded up, BMW 335i xDrive lists for $5,500 more. At invoice the difference is just over four large. Not pocket change, but still a bit close. And the 2007 R? Despite having fewer features (about $1,700 worth based on TrueDelta’s price comparison tool), it listed for $1,800 more when both cars are comparably equipped. Then again, the R died.

Volvo has not resurrected the true “R” appellation for the new S60 T6. Yet I enjoyed driving it more, thanks to a stronger, better-sounding engine, more responsive steering, more balanced handling, and a generally tighter feel. The new, come-hither styling also doesn’t hurt. So, “naughty,” even if successfully participating in Deathrace 2000 is not an option? No home run on the first outing—the new S60’s not that kind of car—but certainly good for a triple. I’d love another date. Now if only they’d offer the V60 here…

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

Proportioned more like an SUV than the wagon-based XC70 but lower and more car-like than the larger XC90, the XC60 seeks out a happy medium between the two vehicle types. A diagonally bisected trapezoidal grille, sizable shoulders, and tall twisty tail lamps mark it as a Volvo. In standard form the XC60 looks interesting but also a bit odd, with a pinched midsection and overly long nose. Volvo clearly tried to break further out of its traditional box with this one, and the results seem mixed…until you see the R-Design. Add body color, silver-accented rockers and attractive 20-inch five-spoke alloys, and suddenly the crossover’s curves and proportions work. So transformed, the XC60 T6 R-Design looks tight and athletic, and more distinctive than the competitor Audi touts as distinctive. I hadn’t realized that the regular XC60’s black lower body cladding and smaller wheels were doing the underlying form such a disservice.

The interior undergoes less of a transformation. The instruments have blue faces, the leather seats have contrasting inlays, and textured aluminum replaces brushed aluminum on the center stack. Tastefully restrained Scandinavian design, floating center stack, semi-premium materials with no untoward glitz—you’re in a Volvo. If you want outright luxury, go elsewhere.

Another sign you’re in a Volvo: the front seats. Neither too hard nor too soft and shaped for long-distance comfort, these seats probably trail only safety among the reasons to buy a Volvo. This said, those in the last true R cars were larger, even more comfortable, and provided more lateral support. There’s not a lot of room in the front seat, but the driving position is about perfect, and the A-pillars are thinner than most these days despite Volvo’s safety emphasis. The back seat is high enough off the floor and smartly contoured to provide adults with lumbar and thigh support, but knee room is in short supply. The XC60 is truly a compact crossover. You might find large-car quantities of rear legroom in mainstream cute utes like the CR-V and RAV4, but not here. The Audi doesn’t offer much more, but only the EX35 offers less. Cargo room is similarly just adequate. If you want more, there’s always the XC90.

In the U.S. the XC60 is offered with a 235-horsepower 3.2-liter naturally aspirated inline six and a 281-horsepower turbocharged 3.0-liter variant of the same. The R-Design is offered only with the latter— though bereft of a bespoke engine, performance does remain part of the R equation. It seems odd, a transversely-mounted inline six. But the turbo 3.0 feels so smooth and sounds so delightful, you wonder why anyone bothers with a V. Or with an inline five for that matter. Some premium car buyers might wish the engine were a bit less vocal, and more in line with the low levels of wind and road noise, but anyone who loves driving will dip deeper into the throttle just to make it sing. If only Ford’s 3.5-liter “EcoBoost” V6 sounded or felt nearly this good. Thrust with the Volvo turbo six isn’t at EcoBoost levels, but there’s more than enough for all but the most enthusiastic drivers. It makes a great case for quality of power delivery over quantity.

Not that the quantity of power delivered is bad—the T6 powerplant is only 19 horsepower short of the last R engine, a more aggressively boosted 2.5-liter five-cylinder. Paired exclusively with a manually-shiftable six-speed automatic, it’ll get you to sixty in about seven seconds. And yet, 281 horsepower isn’t much for a turbocharged 3.0-liter. Would it be that hard to dial up the boost a bit, if only to make the R-Design a little more special?

Elsewhere, boost could stand to be taken down a notch, or at least finessed. Steering effort isn’t overly light, and weighting is decent, but there’s an omnipresent syrupy numbness that has characterized Volvo steering for as far back as I can remember. Even the R cars were similarly afflicted. On the other hand, even with the XC60 T6 R-Design’s huge low-profile tires the suspension strikes a very good balance between handling and ride comfort. The R-Design certainly has none of the feel of a sports car, but it doesn’t feel large or bulky and takes curves with commendable balance and poise. There’s no plow, no float, no rocking, and no harshness. So why bother with the standard suspension that underpins other XC60s? Relative to the competition, this is Volvo’s best handling vehicle. But not the best-handling vehicle in the segment—that continues to be the BMW X3, followed by the Audi Q5. Note to Volvo: fix the steering.

With a base price of $42,400, the XC60 T6 R-Design starts $3,750 higher than the regular T6. But the R-Design’s standard xenons and sunroof account for two grand of that. $1,750 seems a more than reasonable amount to pay for the R-Design’s larger wheels, massaged suspension, and styling tweaks. With options, you’re in the mid-to-high forties. Seem high? Well, run the XC60 T6 R-Design and the Audi Q5 through TrueDelta’s car price comparison tool, which similarly configures both vehicles then adjusts for remaining feature differences, and you’ll find that the Teutonic crossover runs a significant four-to-five grand higher.

It’s always disappointing to see a marque’s ambitions scaled back, and this disappointment could easily have rubbed off on the R-Design cars. The XC60 T6 R-Design isn’t quite an R inside the engine compartment, and this is a bit of a shame since true R status is only a few pounds of boost away. But it’s quick regardless, the R-Design tweaks do dramatically improve the exterior styling and finesse the ride-handling compromise, and the price is competitive. So, while the T6 R-Design isn’t a home run without further tweaks to the engine and steering, it’s a strong contender and clearly the one to get if you’re getting a Volvo XC60.

Michael Karesh owns and operates TrueDelta, an online provider of auto reliability and pricing data

Over the bridge and through the woods till mödrars hus vi gor. When Volvo first started their love affair with jacked up wagons equipped with AWD and some extra ride height, they had two groups in mind: The Swedes that live in rural Sweden with miles of unpaved dirt roads in the forest which turn to mud in the long dark winter, and the American soccer mom who thinks she needs an SUV like vehicle to cross the puddle in the Neiman Marcus parking lot. Thanks to our recently departed leader Robert Farago, we know how the XC60 does on pavement, but since Volvo offered to give us an XC60 for a week, I decided to take a different approach and review the XC60 in the dirt back-roads of coastal northern California and the icy roads of the Sierra Nevada to see if you can actually combine living off the grid and “Scandinavian luxury.”

On paper the XC60 looks like just what the yuppie doctor ordered. The XC60 boasts a Grand Cherokee and LR2 besting 9.1 inches of ground clearance, the same AWD system as the LR2 (which it should be noted was originally borrowed from Volvo’s S80 to begin with), sexy curves and some rugged looking plastic on the front and rear overhang. At 4174lbs, the XC60 is no lightweight but does somehow manage to be slimmer than both the LR2 and the Grand Cherokee.

Visually the XC60 is actually a departure from the Volvo styling that has been in place since 1999. Volvo’s design department somehow managed to make the XC60 instantly recognizable as a Volvo, yet change the form enough that when parked next to Volvo’s larger XC90 it makes its older brother look ancient.

Inside the XC60 is modern Volvo all the way. The only low point in this otherwise well designed cabin is the Nav system. Volvo used to be known for their trick pop-up nav system, and the coolness factor of the pop-up was a welcome distraction from the basic design of the system. Instead of this arrangement used in all other Volvo models, the Swedish design team crafted an Audi like pod for the nav screen in the center console and moved the screen for the radio up to a strange binnacle on the dash. There are two problems with this: First, the radio controls are way too far from the radio’s screen, and secondly the nav screen looks ill fitted and far too small for the hole they gave it in the dash. Adding insult to injury is the fact that should you not opt for the $1,800 nav system you get a bizarre cubby where the screen should go that tells all your passengers you were too cheap to splurge for the nav. I have been told to expect the new 2011 S60’s totally revamped Nav and audio package in the 2011 XC60, let’s hope so; it can’t get here fast enough.

With the rear seats up the XC60’s sloping rear profile means you are limited to 31cu ft of cargo space which expands to 67 cu ft with the rear seats folded. Compared to the Euro competition the XC60 packs a week’s worth of camping supplies (including water) with relative ease. Once off the beaten track it becomes obvious that the base 17” wheels are more on- than off-road tuned, but fortunately the rest of the suspension is up to the task. Suspension travel is well suited to heavily rutted dirt and mud roads and Volvo kindly supplies approach departure and breakover angles (22, 27 and 22 degrees respectively) which proved useful while navigating the many treacherous roads that litter the Lost Coast region of Northern California. Volvo’s optional skid plates, bumper bars and scuff plates are probably something Volvo should add to their press fleet as it was my mission to go where no $47,000 Euro CUV should ever be taken.

Let’s get things clear from the start, the XC60 is not, and never will be, a rock crawler. If you plan to ford more than a 10”of water or crawl over boulders or logs, then a Wrangler is what you need. If a luxury rock crawler is more your style and you only have $45K to work with, try a used Range Rover. The Haldex AWD system the XC60 uses is capable of delivering a 50/50 power split should it be needed, sending 90% of the power to the front under normal conditions.

Unlike a “true” SUV, the Haldex system operates using a locked center differential (to be honest there is no center diff at all, the transmission has the front and rear power outputs permanently locked), between the rear diff and the transmission lays a Haldex clutch pack that infinitely varies the connection between the transmission and the rear wheels. Power transfer takes less than 1/7th of a tyre rotation should a slip be detected, and the system can vary the clutch pack on its own whenever it feels like it. The system operates as advertised and strikingly well on sand, several inches of mud, steep ruts, a few inches of snow and moderate off-roading. As with many crossover AWD systems, when the going gets icy, the lack of a locking center differential becomes readily apparent. When climbing a steep driveway with an inch of slippery ice coating it, the XC60 spent much of its time spinning the front wheels, it was only when the traction control was disabled that the car shifted power to the rear and made it up the drive. That being said, I clocked over 26 hours on unpaved backcountry roads in the XC60 and didn’t get stuck. There were ditches we had to stop and fill in with logs to traverse, trees that had to be moved out of the way, and jaw-dropped looks from ATV and jacked up Wrangler owners we passed along the way.

On the road the XC60 handles with more prowess than it’s curb weight or FWD-biased drivetrain would suggest, but unfortunately Volvo’s choice of tires isn’t quite up to the task. The Pirelli Scorpions squeal at the slightest provocation and fail to grip when the going gets muddy or icy. Powering this Swedish cute-ute is Volvo’s sweet 3.0L twin-scroll turbo inline 6, which was introduced just a year ago. Quite similar in design to BMW’s new N55 3.0L I-6 engine, the T6 as Volvo calls it, pumps out 281 horsepower and 295 lb-ft of torque with the typically-Volvo flat torque curve. Mated to an Aisin 6 speed automatic, power delivery is smooth and strong, and with a 0-60 time of 7.4 seconds, one might almost say quick, almost. The XC60 climbs up rugged, un-paved muddy trails with composure, never seeming taxed.

One cannot review a Volvo without discussing Safety. Volvo proudly touts the XC60 as the safest vehicle they have ever built, and my experience with the electronic systems in the XC60 may just bear that out. After Volvo’s PR company handed me the keys to the XC60 I hopped on the freeway for my 30 mile drive home and like any techno-nerd the first thing I did was play with the electronics. The first thing the car did was bing at me and tell me I wasn’t driving in an alert manner. I hate it when my car is right. The second thing the XC60 did was scold me for following too closely with LEDs that reflect on the dash. And the last thing the XC60 did for me was save my bacon.

As traffic slowed, the adaptive cruise control disabled (Volvo’s system turns off and returns control to the driver below 5MPH) and my inattention returned. I was distracted by an accident on the other side of the freeway when the XC60 in rapid succession beeped loudly at me and piled on the brakes, snapping me back to attention. “Auto braking by city safety” appeared on the dash, completing the XC60’s party trick. Effective from approximately 2 to 19MPH, the XC60’s laser scanners detect moving and stationary cars and will either come to a complete stop or at least drastically reduce your speed at the last minute to avoid or reduce the effect of an accident. City safety is standard on the 2010 XC60 and I can safely say, it worked as advertised. Of course Volvo includes a whole host of other electronic nannies that are too numerous to list, but it’s safe to say Volvo’s reputation for building Swedish tanks is alive and well.

The XC60 proves that Volvo can make a dirt road-capable CUV with styling flair and enough electronic nannies to satisfy the risk-adverse in the crowd (not to mention your insurance broker). The real question is if buyers will actually cross-shop the XC60 with its German competition. Stacked up to the Q5, X3 and GLK, the Volvo shines with more power, excellent cargo capacity, unique styling and a suitably upscale interior. Starting at $33,000 for the FWD 235HP, model, our Volvo provided tester hit the nosebleed section at a whopping $47,395. Admittedly this can seem like a bargain when you look at the Q5’s starting price of $37,350 and a similarly equipped price of $51,625, the question is: Can Volvo get you to buy one?

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

As an Elvis fan, I have to say that the singer created an enormous body of completely unlistenable music. The Hollywood years are particularly execrable, generating as they did an entire canon of crap. In the same sense, Volvo. In recent history, the American-owned Swedish automaker has unleashed a range of vehicles that did little more than remind us how far the iconic brand has fallen. For example, Volvo’s minivan, which—oh wait. They didn’t make a minivan. Right. Volvo’s XC SUVs arrived late, with the wrong engines, with a rep for tank-like build quality and unimpeachable reliability that was only obvious by its absence. Ditto Volvo’s sedans. And now, Volvo’s ’68 Comeback Special: the XC60.

First, let’s get something into the open: I don’t like CUVs. I understand that an elevated driving position creates a sense of control and (perceived) safety. But if I’m high, I want to be mighty. Or, at the very least, driving something that’s mighty big inside. Every CUV I’ve driven was either a gas-sucking lard ass, a poorly packaged gas-sucking lard ass or a joyless hybrid.

The moment I laid eyes on the Volvo XC60, I felt my anti-car-on-stilts position softening. The crossover’s press shots make the model look goofy (you shouldn’t see the ones I didn’t publish). In the metal, the XC60 is as perfectly sized and proportioned as a Steinway piano. The Swede’s shape and stance—boasting better ground clearance than many trucks—generates a look that’s solid without being stolid; projecting macho ruggedness and dynamism.

Volvo gets credit for attaching a brand-faithful snout to a highly raked windshield without creating an acre of dashtop plastic or A pillars that could support Trump Tower. The XC60′s profile is appropriately outdoorsy, in a diminutive but not dainty sort of way. The XC60′s rear is also particularly well wrought. It’s got that Land Rover take stuff anywhere thing happening, and mellifluously melds melted tail lamps with a roof spoiler and shark fin.

Taken as a whole, I’ll take it.

Inside, rental car. I so didn’t want it to be so. XC60 buyers who share this desire will find it easy enough to generate the necessary suspension of disbelief to con themselves that they’re driving a premium product. The Volvo’s interior design is fastidious. The controls are ergonomically sound and appropriately Ikea-like. The jaunty little LCD screen popping up from the top of the XC60′s dash is as cute as Wall-E’s itty bitty face. Sure, there’s no surprise and delight, but c’mon, it’s a Volvo. The brand that schlepped a thousand minimalists.

Yeah, well, it’s a $40K Volvo. Swedish style, careful craftsmanship and totally flat-folding rear seats can’t mask the XC60′s low-rent materials’ quality. Equally dire: the switch-gear operates with all the satisfaction of a lowfat deep-fried peanut butter sandwich. Let’s hope the XC60′s haptically hideous plastics are Ford tough; I can’t think of any other reason to remind yourself you overpaid for a Volvo. Not to put too fine a point on it, the Volvo XC60′s interior is “Blue Hawaii” to the Audi Q5 cabin’s “Blue Moon of Kentucky.”

The XC60′s engine is a hit. The 281hp 3.0-liter in-line six sounds distinctly MOR, and there’s a touch of turbo-lag from the git-go. But once underway, there’s a hoon of torque underfoot: 295 lb·ft. @ 1,500-4,800 rpm. The XC60′s stable yard is never, ever shy of horses. Which is just as well for a four-plus-one seater that burns gas at 15/22 mpg.

In terms of actual hoonery, the XC60′s grip and composure will leave you wanting better seat bolstering. Once again, damn the man who invented all-season tires. Thanks to its overly stiff rubber, the XC60 is just that little bit too hard riding. It ruins any chance of an upscale vibe, serving an unwelcome reminder that the XC60 shares its underlying architecture with the ill-fated Land Rover LR2.

Do I have to mention safety? How about this: if you can find a Volvo XC60 without the $1695 Technology Package (Adaptive Cruise Control, Collision Warning with Auto-Brake, Distance Alert, Lane Departure Warning and Driver Alert Control), that’s the way to go. In other words, file all those gizmos under “more electronic shit that will go wrong” and “more evidence that Volvo’s brand managers don’t get it.”

For under $30K, Volvo would sell XC60s all day long. Even in the current economic climate. Even if Wo Fat buys the brand. Knocking on $40K, Volvo’s high-priced cute ute is almost as inadvisable as a Lincoln MKS. But not quite. ‘Cause the XC60 is a “real” Volvo—provided it goes the distance mechanically.

If not, well, the King of Rock and Roll ended his career in a blaze of self-parody, picking invisible bugs off his arms as he tried (and failed) to remember lyrics he’d been performing for twenty years. I’d hate to see Volvo go the same way. But I wouldn’t be surprised.

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.

Stylistically, the 2001-2007 XC70 was a poorly proportioned patchwork, especially when light-colored paint was paired with dark fascias. On some cars, the base model has cheap-looking unpainted bumpers. In the old XC70’s case that look cost extra. The new XC70 looks much better— the SUV cues integrate with the brawnier new design. Even with light paint, the dark cladding no longer appears tacked-on. Instead, the various bits now flow cleanly from end to end. Best of all, the silly rearmost side window-shrinking inserts are gone. Aside from plus-one rims, the turbocharged T6 looks just like the regular XC70— a clue to the point of the extra horses.

The current Volvo V70/XC70 is essentially the S80 in wagon form. In a $56k flagship sedan, the mostly shared interior doesn’t impress. In a $46k wagon, it does. Materials look and feel first rate. The combination of heavily grained off-black soft leather, matte-finished dark wood and real chrome accents oozes tastefully restrained Scandinavian style. Comparisons to the Saab 9-3 also play heavily in the Volvo’s favor.

Traditionally, the primary reason people buy Volvos has been safety. The second reason: seat comfort. Or at least it ought to be. The XC70’s front seats are among autodom’s most comfortable chairs. Lateral support is also good, considering this car’s mission. The rear seat is merely adequate in terms of both room and comfort, but still considerably better than in the Saab 9-3.

In previous generations a rear-facing third row, good for occasional child use, was available. Volvo has decided that anyone who needs to carry more than five people should get the full SUV treatment offered in the XC90. So no more third row in the wagons. Thanks to an unapologetically wagonish rear roofline, the XC70’s cargo area ranks as the most voluminous among today’s shrunken population of U.S.-market wagons. The cargo area carpeting looks and feels so nice that you’ll want to put it into protective custody beneath the optional accessory load liner.

When it moved from the old S60 platform to the new S80 platform last year, the XC70 picked up a few hundred pounds of curb weight, for a total over two tons. As a result, the new 235-horsepower 3.2-liter inline six wasn’t up to the task, even when hitched to a six-speed automatic. Enter the turbo, which bumps output to 281 horsepower even with a reduction in displacement. That’s not a lot of power for a 3.0-liter turbo; this is clearly a low-pressure design optimized for driveability rather than full-throttle performance.

And so it plays out on the road. The XC70 T6 doesn’t feel quick the way the top Saab does, but it feels considerably stronger than the 3.2. With the boost, acceleration in regular driving feels appropriately effortless. A Haldex all-wheel-drive system that preloads the rears means no embarrassing tire squeal (even if you floor the throttle mid-turn) and no torque steer.

Chassis tuning is much the same. You won’t want to seek out a curvy road. But when pushed, the XC70 behaves better than a wagon-on-stilts on SUV-wannabe treads has a right to. We’re torquing limited amounts of roll and plow, very good composure and a workable amount of grip. The all-wheel-drive system lacks enthusiast-friendly tricks, but helps balance the chassis. And the extra power provided by the turbo reduces perceived bulk on the road (the base XC70 can feel ungainly). Sadly, numb steering remains embedded in Volvo’s DNA. Aside from the occasional unexpected jolt, the car rides smoothly and quietly.

By avoiding a sportwagon mission and the expectations that follow, Volvo has crafted a more satisfying wagon than Saab. Though not fun to drive, the XC70 T6 is exceedingly pleasant to drive, thanks to the butt-and-back-cosseting front seats, premium interior and smooth, quiet ride. The regular XC70 falls short on oomph even for the mainstream market; the turbo fixes this. So, if exceedingly pleasant is what you’re looking for, and the $40k+ price looks good compared to the German competition, then Volvo has a wagon for you. If, on the other hand, you’ve been waiting for a better R, you’ll be waiting for a very long time.

Like many female residents of Las Vegas, the first thing you notice about the diminutive Swede is its backside. Yeah, yeah, yeah– they were trying to ape the lines of the old 1800 shooting-brake. But credit where credit’s due: these cats did a better job. Years ago, Volvo decided it was the safety brand and began sticking monstrously over-sized (and terrible looking) taillights on all their cars. Except the lights on the C30’s derriere, which are (somehow) both cute and suave. The front-end is nothing but the Volvo schnoz writ small. Handsome sure, but… yawn. The side profile works best when painted lighter colors (say Orinoco Blue or Gecko Green). That way the black sills and wheel arches have a slimming effect. Otherwise the little hatch looks a little obese.

Unlike main competitor MINI’s ADD-inducing asylum, the C30’s interior is covered in an almost stark layer of Scando-simplicity. But it’s a ruse. At first the controls seem only calming and Ikea-fied. In fact, they’re brilliantly thought-out. Take the HVAC/Audio display. It uses a single digital graph to illustrate temp, fan speed and volume levels. While this might seem too-basic, it’s a warm bath compared to the maddening complexity of Audi’s MMI screens. I love the floating waterfall center console. And the handy storage bin behind it. Every surface, texture and design element has a rare “that’s how I would have done it” quality.  Like the mesh pockets attached to the front of the seats that are perfect for holding cell phones. You can even fit actual adults in the rear seats. Just smart.

Under the hood sits a 2.5-liter turbocharged inline-5 good for 227 horses and 236 torques. That’s potent by any yard stick. But you’d never know it. Not that the C30’s slow; it’s just not a show off. Running around town the power seems perfectly adequate. It’s only when you neglect to upshift and the revs climb into the 5,000 rpm range that you realize this sucker can haul the mail. We’re torquing 6.6 seconds to 60 mph. Not only is this faster than the MINI Cooper S (6.9), the C30’s quicker than a VW GTI (6.7). And those two are performance icons.

What you may not know about the C30 is that it rides on the Mazda3 chassis. The same beloved Mazda3 you all voted the best car of 2008. Go Ford parts bin, go! More to the point, the handling is– if not top shelf– pretty damn close to the summit. You’d be hard pressed to find a front-driver that’s more eager to eat corners. And there simply aren’t any as composed. Is it ideal? No. The dull all-season tires need to be swapped in favor of serious meat. And the bouncy rear end could use cut springs, firmer dampers and a strut brace. At that point you’re pretty close to ideal.

But again, performance isn’t the C30’s raison d’être. To understand what is, we need to take a closer look at the country of Sweden.

The Swedes have a term with no good English translation: Lagom. Roughly translated Lagom means “enough” or “adequate,” and is said to sum up the Swedish psyche. The phrase “Lagom är bäst” means “Enough is best.” Contrast this with our Yankee “bigger is better” mentality and it’s obvious (to some) how we bankrupted ourselves borrowing to get our greedy hands on 4-door, AWD, leather-lined pickups that sit in front of our 3,500 square-foot McMansions. Not me, of course. I’m a good patriotic American. Ahem.

My point is, the Volvo C30 T5 is all the car you need. The more I drove it, the more I was struck by the feeling that this is exactly what a car should be. And nothing more. To recap: it’s good looking with a great interior, has more than enough power and handles with class-leading aplomb. Our single option tester (metallic paint) stickered at less than $24,000 and gets about 30 mpg on the highway. As our Swedish friends might say, good enough.

[Volvo provided the vehicle reviewed, insurance and a tank of gas.]

From the outside, the S60's unmistakably a Volvo. It comes with the standard Volvo-esque design cues, with little to differentiate itself from the other sedans save subtle trim differences (the T5 gets a spoiler, this one gets bupkis). These cars are so anonymous they're part of the standard package you get when you enter a witness protection program. Maybe it's a safety feature: people are less likely to accidentally swerve into your car if it doesn't suddenly catch their attention (I'm sure people who drive Lambos and STIs get that all the time).

The interior is imbued with adequate, standard, not-an-inch-more-than-necessary luxury. The leather on our tester was unsightly and about as baby's-bottom buttery as a pleather diner booth. Don't look up; that rat-fur headliner will prove beyond a shadow of doubt that the beancounters had their dirty, dirty way with this car.

The S60's premium package includes wood trim, which is a surprisingly nice fit for the taupe interior. A ginormous center stack dominates the dash, its glove-friendly, intuitive buttons lost in oceans of plastic. It also sports a vertical storage slot that defies understanding– anything you put in there slides out at the first press of the gas.

Also incomprehensible: a flip-out rear seat cupholder in the armrest that renders the rest useless whilst deployed. Maybe I'm a big baby that wants to put my elbow somewhere comfy.

And Junior doesn't need a big gulp anyway, if you can even fit him in the ridiculously undersized rear seats. This is bigger than the S40? No way. The larger proportions seem to mostly go towards trunk space instead of rear seating room; disappointing for anyone shopping for a "family" sedan.

Starting up the S60's engine reminded me a lot of my mother, if only because she grew up driving tractors. I apologize and retract my earlier dismembering of the Ecotec in the G5. Only John Deere himself would enjoy the unholy racket the five-cylinder turbo makes. While the engine makes entirely satisfactory loud rumbling noises during brisk acceleration, it also makes them all the rest of the time, even at idle. 

So on one hand, there's nearly no turbo lag, it being mitigated well by high torque at low RPMs. On the other, it's the noisiest turbo I've ever encountered (or I'm just a spoiled enthusiast who likes the turbo magic of a Subaru or Volkswagen). Sure, the S60's mill provides an appreciable amount of propulsion, but Nine Inch Nails concerts are easier on the eardrums. Anything this loud should sport a sub-five-second 0-60 or STFU.

Handling-wise, the S60 is safe, in the "nothing special" sense of the word. The sedan does a great job handling average bumps on average roads in average conditions. The steering is numb, but not in an overly disconcerting way. Even without any road feel, you still feel in control of the car. There's nothing to be excited about, or anything to truly hate. I would wager that the power and handling are perfect for 90 percent of the general driving population. More demanding drivers would pick it to pieces.

And speaking of safe, the S60's technologically advanced safety features rule the roost. Unfortunately, those same features push it to a punishing 3500 lbs. A few hundred pounds less in steel and safety features might just make this ugly duckling into a swan, but something has to set Volvo apart. Too bad the Subaru Legacy GT scores higher on crash tests and is a thousand times more fun (and only marginally cheaper quality-wise). Even Ford touts safety as a selling point. And let's not talk depreciation. The S60 tanks faster than Ikea furniture.

The S60 falls short on the luxury features, too. A new IS250 costs the same as a leathered-up S60 and comes with some truly indulgent options. (Forget grocery bag holders, why doesn't the Volvo have pre-collision avoidance and parking assist?) I don't even know how it competes with the S40 turbo unless you're too wide for the S40's seats. 

Maybe the Volvo S60 is a great car and I don't get it, but I can't think of anything that this car does that someone anyone else doesn't do better, including Volvo. 

In the last 10 years, Volvo has gone from Ugly Betty to Swedish beauty. Since 1998, every Volvo model has been bred from the same DNA: restrained styling, sexy hips and hood creases culminating in a grill with the classic Volvo sash. Thankfully, the new V70 has all the requisite shapes, excepting the sloping rear windscreen.

Despite the looks, the V70 is all-new. The hauler is now based on the flagship S80 sedan instead of the mid-sized S60. The larger overall car is also equipped with considerably better interior bits. While the cheaper Volvos’ interiors look like IKEA specials, there’s nothing cheap about the new V70’s interior.

Our Euro-spec tester was swathed in matte finish wood trim and light grey “Sovereign hide” leather, which rivals the luxury feel of [former] PAG mates Jaguar and Aston Martin’s bovine wrappers. Sadly, North American buyers can’t get premium cow, and someone in Sweden figured ventilated seats were more important in the Arctic Circle than the tropical American south. Anyway, all the V70’s seats are supportive and comfortable for long trips.

The wagon’s glove-friendly knobs and switches are placed in the usual logical locations. The now ubiquitous floating centre stack is along for the ride. While the cute cubby behind it will accommodate a few very small oddly sized nick-knacks, out of sight also means out of mind. Speaking of mindless, the V70 gets the new for 2008 keyless start system. As the alternative is the oddly located fob-slot in the dash– which makes your keys bang against the dashboard at gauge level– it’s $500 well spent.

Regardless of continent, all buyers get Volvo’s new two-stage child booster seats with redesigned curtain airbags. After thorough testing with two kids in the proper weight bracket (33-80 lbs), I can certify that the new feature protects adult sanity when struggling to get multiple progeny onboard.

At the back end, Volvo continues to put hauling stuff at the top of their design priority list. Inside the power operated tailgate lie enough organizing options to keep Detective Monk busy for hours (if not an eternity). There are grocery bag holders, cargo dividers, rails with load hooks, nets, straps and locking compartments. The 40/20/40 split rear seats fold flat easily. As with all Volvos, the front passenger seat also bows down to the gods of goods; loading a 10ft ladder or a full-size grandfather’s clock is a breeze.

Volvo’s silky smooth 3.0-liter six-cylinder T6 turbo engine purred under the hood of our Euro-tester. The mill cranks out 285hp and 295 ft.-lbs. of torque. It’s mated to a six- speed slushbox and Haldex AWD (all wheel-drive) system. The V70’s 6.7 second zero to sixty sprint time feels quicker in person, due to the plateau-like torque curve, despite its decidedly porky 4100 pound curb weight.

The V70 AWD system’s “instant traction” feature assures zero torque steer for European buyers. Yes, yet again American shoppers get shafted: both the T6 engine and AWD system are Euro only options. On this side of the pond you must satisfy yourself with the 235hp 3.2-liter six-cylinder engine, endure torque steer and grow old as you attempt to reach 60 from a standstill (7.8 seconds).

Out on twisty roads, the V70 feels almost nimble. The car’s front heavy nature is abundantly evident through the corners, but the cornering limit is surprisingly high. Equally important, steering feel is excellent. And when things do break loose the electronic nannies rein you back to a safer angle of attack. The Euro-only active suspension proves a faithful companion, eliminating any signs of wallow, tip or dive. It affords GTI-stiff dampeners at the corners for that race from the daycare to work.

While the V70 isn’t as dynamically satisfying as a BMW 5-series wagon or as luxurious as a Mercedes E-Class estate, the V70 is nevertheless an excellent competitor in this niche market… If you live in Europe. In fact, this is the perfect example of sending the wrong models to the wrong places. The 20.3 T6 model is too thirsty for Europe. But as a base engine in North America? Perfect. And while we’re at it, where’s OUR luxe leather, AWD and active suspension?

Until Volvo gets their product placement strategy is corrected, they’ll remain a niche player, good wagon or not.

Only a deeply committed Volvo fan could/could be bothered to distinguish an ‘08 XC70 from its predecessor. The new wagon’s rear glass extends further down than the side windows (for improved rearward visibility), and the sloping rear window and “hexagonal style” add a stump of chic. Up front, alternating silver and black rings ‘round the fog lights give the XC70 an outdoorsy, raccoon-like look. Clean, simple, modern, done.

If the words “Scandinavian Luxury” have any meaning, it’s found inside the XC70’s cabin. Organic shapes with smooth, flowing lines intersect with seamless precision. Surfaces are swathed in high quality materials, [optionally] accentuated by warm natural wood. In terms of ergonomics, the XC70’s interior design is like an Audi for long-sighted, glove-wearing architects. Or, if you prefer, the XC70 is the anti-iDrive BMW. That said, while Volvo’s now signature floating center console is logical enough for a Vulcan, the cubby behind remains less than useless.

In the toy department, a liberal hand with the options tick list unleashes Fredrik Arp’s Wonder Emporium. Volvo’s trick pop-up satellite navigation system returns (and then hides). Volvo’s 650-watt MP3-ready Dynaudio surround sound system with twin subwoofers will restore some valuable street cred for teenage drivers. The dual screen (headrest-mounted) rear video system is a much-appreciated palliative for younger family members. And a brace of Sponge Bob fans can rest easy on the world’s first height-adjustable integrated child booster cushions.

Behind Volvo’s trick power tailgate lie more aluminum rails and tie-down points than a dominatrix’s basement (and a useful grocery bag holder as well). In five-passenger mode, there’s 33.3 cubic feet of köttbullar-schlepping. Fold the 40/20/40 rear seats– now a one-step affair– and anal retentive owners are rewarded with 71 cubic feet of cargo carrying capacity. For antique dealer’s grandfather clocks and surfers too lazy to strap their board to the roof, Volvo’s front passenger seat also folds flat. Try THAT in your Jeep Grand Cherokee.

To strengthen the XC70’s case against PC poisonmobiles (i.e. fuel-sucking SUVs) and amp-up the lifestyle marketing angle (wagons ho!), Volvo has raised the station wagon’s ride height to 8.3”, which is HIGHER than a Jeep Grand Cherokee. Volvo makes a point of advertising the XC’s approach, departure and break over angles (19.2, 19.8 and 24, in case you were wondering).

Although most XC70 buyers would no more venture off-road than go fur trapping, the new XC is an amazingly competent mud-plugger. Volvo’s “Instant Traction” part-time all wheel-drive system channels the power where it’s needed, and the Hill Descent Control gets five stars from Off-Roading for Dummies.  

Riding on Volvo’s new large car platform, the XC70’s on-road manners offer effortless highway cruising and stressless pothole surmounting. But when it comes to cornering, the high-riding XC70 floats like a bee and stings like a butterfly. Hustling the wagon is both counter-intuitive and counter-productive– especially if the rear passengers’ digestives systems aren’t fully developed. Sadly, the active suspension system from last year’s XC– which completely quelled the cetaceous behavior typical of crossovers– is a Euro-only option.

Volvo’s 3.2-liter powerplant nestles into the XC70’s engine bay, sideways. The inline six brings yet more honor to the excellence of its basic configuration. The acceleration is automotive cashmere, and the sound emanating from the twin tailpipes under wide open throttle is intoxicating. Unfortunately, the XC70 has gained weight. Pitting 235hp against 4100 lbs. yields an 8.4 second zero to sixty sprint. That’s a full second slower than last year’s XC70 (with a turbocharged five cylinder engine underhood). Worse yet, fuel economy is a tad lower than before.

Aye, there’s the rub. No car can have it all: safety, passing power, handling, practicality, reliability, luxury, excellent fuel economy and a competitive sticker price. If Ford wants to take Volvo upmarket, the brand must become a master of one core competency, rather a Jakob of all trades.

Meanwhile and in any case, the XC70 will please those relatively few fans who can pay the freight. But the idea that this $37k to $50k wagon will deliver massive profits to Ford is entirely mistaken. At this price, the XC70 has to hunt with upmarket German wagons– and it's still a small niche. If Volvo stripped-out the XC70 and dropped the price by $10k (and then some) they’d have a better chance of a major hit. In that sense, the all-new XC70's excellence proves that Ford’s got their Volvo brand strategy exactly backwards. 

On first glance, the V50 looks like a size-12 V70 station wagon in a size-four dress. At second glance the V50 appears to be a micro-S80 wagon, or an XC90 that’s been stepped on. No matter how you slice it, dice it or squash it, the V50’s brand DNA is unmistakable. In a sea of four-wheeled blandness and disjointed styling, the Volvo’s sheetmetal’s is as cohesive as it is attractive; save, perhaps the rear sloping roofline. OK: that forward leaning rear window line is a bit goofy-looking. But the V50’s restrained detailing— from its tower of power rear brake lights to the retrained family face— make up for any unpleasant awkwardness.

Volvo has replaced the old “that’s-like-so-80s” interior with the requisite Scandinavian chic. A stylish not to say stylized console– finished in faux metal, aluminum, iPod white or optional Nordic oak (shown)– dominates the V50’s cabin. Clearly (or not so clearly), Volvo arranged this “floating” design for maximum symmetry rather than ergonomic safety. Four identically shaped dials join a phalanx of closely-grouped black buttons to translate high touch into high anxiety. What’s more, the designers rectified the paucity of interior storage is by placing a cubby behind the centre console stack. Interesting…

When you finally stop playing with the [optional] fold-up/pop-up nav system and depress or raise the door lock buttons, you suddenly realize Ford’s desire to take Volvo upmarket didn’t make it this far down the food chain. While 2008 brings forth new cup holder and armrest designs, the V50’s bean counters blew off Bluetooth and skimped where they could. Penalty box aversive drivers are advised to opt for the Dolby Pro Logic sound system. The V50 may not have the tactile satisfaction or gadgetry goodness of its German rivals, but ABBA never sounded so good.

Our V50 tester was powered by Volvo’s ubiquitous 2.5-liter five-cylinder turbo (which also adds 17” wheels to the package). The odd-numbered mill spools-up nine more horses than before (227hp) and 236 ft-lbs of torque. Oomph's delivered with typical Volvo aplomb: power starts early, crescendos late and makes some wonderful noise in between.

Although the V50’s quick rather than pin-your- Labradors-to-the-rear-window fast– zero to 60mph takes seven seconds– the Swedish wagonette’s in-gear acceleration is plenty punchy. Whatever grunt’s underfoot is instantly yours for the taking. Besides, you gotta think the average V50 intender gladly sacrifices a bit of forward thrust for the resulting 19/27mpg mileage (front wheel-drive trim).

That said, Volvo claims that 45 percent of V50 buyers are less than 35 years old. To cater to these young (and young at heart) drivers, Volvo’s blessed the V50 with some seriously entertaining road manners.

Windy roads reveal crisp, linear and predictable manners; impressive grip and drama-free braking. The V50 snags the Getrag six-speed manual from the R-series instead of the tired corporate five-speed; this six cog row-box will have you snick-snick-snicking through the gears with a smile all the way to IKEA. Unfortunately, the snatchy Volvo clutch is along for the ride– without the 300hp R engine to make up for it.

No Volvo would be complete without a plethora of safety equipment and more alphabet soup than Campbell's test kitchen. The Swedish au pairs include: DSTC, ABS, EBA, EBFD, SIPS, WHIPS, IC and the acronym-less collapsible steering column. New acronyms for 2008 include EBL (Emergency Brake Lights, they flash if you stop fast) and BLIS (Blind Spot Information System) so you don’t have to look over your shoulder like everyone else.

If that’s not enough, Volvo’s IDIS system “inspired by aircraft” will sense when you are in a “challenging driving situation” and will delay warning lamps and ignore phone calls (Europe only) until your driving style has returned to a civilized plod. Oh, and Volvo’s Intelligent Vehicle Architecture (VIVA) uses four different grades of steel and results in markedly improved Euro NCAP crash results vs. its corporate cousins.

In terms of performance, utility and quality, Volvo’s sprightly V50 wagon is as close to a Euro-Focus wagon as you can get stateside— only better. In fact, the V50 is only a hair away from lifestyle load-lugging perfection and about 80hp shy of pistonhead perfection (all wheel drive). If the V50 turns out to be part of Volvo’s swansong, well, at least it can carry a tune.

Available in Canada since the second quarter, hitting U.S. soil in October, Volvo’s “hot hatch” (yes really) is looking to cash in on the aging, fast and slightly miffed yet financially comfortable ex-tuner crowd. Alternatively, the C30’s yet another starting point for badge snobs looking for that first rung on the European luxury ladder. To entice both groups, the Swedish sampling’s got style.

Faced head on, the short overhangs and snubbed prow could easily belong to any Volvo. Correct! From the grill to the windshield, the C30’s built on the same architecture as the S40 and V50. Follow the reverse-doorstop roofline to mid ships, and there’s funk in that trunk. The taillights hug the C’s C-pillars in all three dimensions, accenting the hatch’s rear haunches in the best-yet interpretation of the corporate countenance.

The C30’s “P” inspired trapezoidal hatch-glass is pistonhead catnip. Leave home without the optional cargo cover though, and Bloomies’ Big Brown Bag will have a similar effect on the smash-and-grab crowd.

Just don’t order a C30 in “passion red.” With fenders found wanting of paint, my base T5 tester was more “Swedish berry” than Halle Berry. Anyone who doesn’t spend the extra Krona and check the Metallic Paint box on the order sheet might as well get a bumper sticker saying “Cheap Djävel on Board.”  While you’re at it, sign-up for the dual tone body kit and 17” Zaurak rims. When you see a C30 thus kitted in Titanium Grey metallic with Java metallic trim, it’s time to call a Vet; this puppy looks sick.

Inside, it seems the Swedish vegetarians have turned their gaze to the automobile industry. Not to worry; Volvo’s T-Tec seating surfaces is an ideal alternative, guaranteed to keep Norse grasslands groomed. The infamous waterfall dash is cheap chic personified, while the switchgear’s tactility will keep even non-OCD sufferers busy for hours. A handy 12-volt adapter decorates the centre-stack, but a lack of defined cup holders hinders Scandinavian satiation.

Volvo’s trick dangling DIN radio unit is wannabe Bang & Olufsen done right. The standard audio package’s sonic performance is adequate, but in a world of LCD I.C.E., the O.G. (original Gameboy) graphics are ghastly. Thankfully, the C30’s supportive seats and thick-rimmed helm restore a large measure of street cred.

The packaging is a bit compromised. Upright, the rear seats are spacious enough for two high-heeled Swedish bikini team members, but leave just enough luggage space for their official uniforms and a couple of thirsty towels. Fold the 55/45 rears and that “Ramvik” coffee table and “Roskilde” rug your living room has been lacking are yours for the taking.

Volvo’s force-fed five-banger is in da' house. A mini mill cranking-out 218hp may be nothing special in this category, but 236ft.-lbs. of torque from basement to penthouse is. Put the pedal to the metal (how Volvo is that?) and 20 continuously variable valves chatter away, flinging the C30 to sixty in less than seven seconds. In-gear satisfaction is only a foot flex away.

Unfortunately, the cog swapping part of the program lacks a suitable dénouement. In traffic, the C30’s clutch play is smooth and predictable. Light a fire under the hot hatch, give it the beans, and stick travel… stops… time. Even worse, ultimate engagement is decidedly spongy.

The suspension isn't. MacPhersons up front and a multilink in back keeps city schlepping as placid as Aquavit on ice, while anti-roll bars and rigid body construction ensure all that torque isn’t squandered. Hang on to the helm and anything over 7/10’s is as safe as houses. Corners are controlled and understeer doled out in sensible quantities. The Sport Package tightens things up considerably. But make no mistake: even in standard trim, the Euro Focus’ C1 platform is put to good use. The Stig may not be cocking a rear wheel through Gambon, but Volvo security hasn’t watered down the Ford family fun.

Volvo is hoping to flog 20k C30’s stateside, 65k globally. The Swedish two-door is pitted against BMW’s U.S.-bound 1-Series, Audi’s A3/S3, a new WRX, Vee Dub’s GTi and the benchmark MINI. That’s tough company; it would be a daunting prospect if the C30 didn’t look so damn cool. But it does. And it is. Mission accomplished.

Put the S40 alongside its stablemates and you can see sausage-car-design at work. Mercedes pioneered this aesthetic at the turn of the last century, when all their models looked like the same car on a slightly different scale. Park the entry-level S40 next to big brother S60 and the top ‘o the line S80 and the lack of visual differentiation is shocking. Still, all three cars boast a clean, simple design that maintains the brand’s traditional styling cues without undue fustiness or futurism. In fact, the S40’s sharper hood creases and truncated trunk make it the most distinctive of the group.

The S40’s cabin features the much-ballyhooed “floating” center dash panel: a handsome bit of theater with [oxymoronic] minimalist flair. Beyond that, the S40’s interior is utterly sterile. Our tests car was black-on-black-on-black-on-black-on-black-on-black: dash, seats, floor, ceiling, steering wheel and plastic. A handful of brushed aluminum touches spruced up the place– in the sense that tossing a handful of coins on the floor of the DMV can be considered decorating the space with presidential portraits.

On the positive side, the S40’s interior is a paragon of ergonomic excellence, containing no more switchgear than absolutely necessary. The seats are supremely comfortable; the T-Tec cloth offers enough tactile satisfaction to tempt a Texan from cow skins. Audi won’t need any Ambien, but the S40 offers the kind of solid build quality and high quality fit and finish you expect in an entry-level luxury car. Equally importantly, the S40’s cabin gives you the feeling that when it’s on its fourth owner, plastered in bumper stickers and packed with cheap beer and vegetarian burritos (the car, not the owner), it will still be in good shape, plugging away, doing its job and putting up with abuse.

The S40 2.4i “features” Volvo’s naturally aspirated inline-five. I swear the Swedish engineers keep this powerplant around as a memento of an simpler, kookier time.  As I’m not a speed freak, I don’t ask much from an automobile engine. Still, I’d prefer it didn’t sound like a lawnmower engine and, worse, spend the night out drinking until dawn.

Slam on the gas, and the S40’s five-speed automatic gearbox immediately hits the snooze button. When the motor finally rousts itself and struggles out of bed, the powertrain is groggy, incoherent, confused and weak. The non-turbocharged five growls and buzzes and finally works its way up into the modest powerband, where a lucky driver may [just] be able to coax 168 horses into action.

Unfortunately, by that point, you’ve already missed the highway merge. The guy in the Mercedes next to you, who you inadvertently cut off, is showing you an insulting appendage, sticking up through his sunroof. And your fair trade latte has fallen into your lap. True story.

Still, driving the S40 is not without its charms. The handling is brand-faithfully safe, secure and predictable; and the steering surprisingly sharp and rewarding. Best of all, the suspension dismisses Northeastern potholes like a Marine drill instructor contemplating his charges at Miller Time.

This is no insignificant accomplishment. Back before modern necessities like rear-view backup cameras and dynamic adaptive cruise control, a compliant and isolating ride was considered the definition of automotive luxury. As the computer age has invaded our “whips,” as gadget worship has replaced hushed and comfortable progress as the litmus of automotive lavishness, it’s nice to find a car that embodies the traditional (if bygone) upmarket virtues.

In fact, the S40’s stately driving dynamics are the primary reason I'd recommend this car. The S40’s not particularly quick, or cheap (even lightly equipped models walk along the $30-large barrier), or more than merely adequate in the fuel efficiency department (22/31) or even, dare I say it, vastly safer than comparable cars. 

But it you’re a driver who likes to fly just above the radar feeling coddled– rather than entertained or invigorated– the S40 2.4i is ideal. Even without a slightly more powerful and willing engine (please Mr. Mahindra), it’s as much of a “real” Volvo as the 240. For some, praise simply doesn’t come any higher.

On the outside, Volvo's anti-stylists went for Eddie Bauer off-road chic: front and rear skid plates, flared wheel arches and enough protective side cladding to fend off a flotilla of angry supermarket shoppers. The designers also swiped the side mirrors off an XC90, creating an elephantine addendum that's more Dumbo than dirt devil. In sum, the result is as intended: a cross between a V70 wagon and a Jeep Grand Cherokee Laredo.

The XC70's interior architecture is bog standard Volvo, save the area between the armrest and the shifter. That hallowed (hollowed?) space offers front seat passengers a grab handle for forays into the rough stuff, whether it's speed bumps in Neiman Marcus' parking lot or genuine off-road action. The leather seat's "rugged" stitching provides a welcome alternative to French seams, while the Berber floor mats' thicker, tighter loop is more durable and less likely to show footprints than standard surfaces– which is, you know, important for a station wagon cum mud plugger.

Despite being seven years old, the XC70's interior's fit and finish is superb, with panel gaps and materials that wouldn't seem out of place in an Audi. The XC70's wood inlays (real or simulated, your choice) are applied with perfect restraint, and the doors close with more of a thud than you'd imagine for a vehicle once famous for schlepping college professors to liberal arts universities. The only blot on the copy book: the made-like-Rubbermaid instrument cluster cover.

On the road, the XC70 pitches and wallows like pre-oil embargo American land yachts. While you would expect whale-like manners from a Jeep product, the XC70's car-like interior atmos clashes with the SUV ride. Fortunately, Volvo's [optional] Four-C active chassis system banishes the high seas body roll, as well as nose tip and dive– without detracting from the XC70's off-road prowess.  

With 208 turbocharged ponies and 236 ft.-lbs. of twist on tap, the XC70 isn't slow. Nor fast. Volvo's corporate 5-cylinder mill's rabid tip-in will no doubt make XC70 owners feel quick. But after half throttle is engaged, even Scottie can't get any more power (Captain). The five-speed automatic gearbox shifts smoothly enough, but when it comes to downshifting, it's inclined to decline on an incline. It's a pity Volvo's parts sharing party didn't include the 257hp or 300hp versions of this engine. [Next year's U.S. model gets the 3.2-liter 236hp engine shared with the S80 and XC90.]

And yes, I did say off-road prowess. The XC70's approach, break over and departure angles (16°, 18° and 20° respectively) are none too shabby for a glorified grocery getter. The wagon's ground clearance makes short work of streams and dismisses small boulders in a single bound.

On rough dirt roads, the XC70 feels wonderfully well poised and reassuringly secure. The wagon's all-wheel-drive system's front wheel bias also keeps handling predictable when the roads get slick. The system engages so quickly that it's almost impossible to elicit anything more than a slight slip before the electronics shuffle power around (Volvo claims less than one seventh of a tire rotation before power transfer).

In the redwood forests inhabiting the Santa Cruz Mountains, the XC70's stiff chassis, low curb weight and low center of gravity made hooning around the dirt tracks as simple as choosing the correct CD accompaniment. The XC70s rudimentary skid plates provided welcome protection from the rocks and sticks of outrageous scenery. And despite YouTube videos to the contrary, the XC70's Haldex AWD system proved a faithful companion when one or more wheels went airborne.

You could say the XC70 is a slightly underpowered, slightly over-priced, slightly more luxurious Subaru Outback. But then that wouldn't give credit where credit's due. For people who need an extremely capacious go-anywhere wagon, there really isn't any suitable alternative. Now that Audi's Allroad has been deleted from Ingolstadt's lineup (in favor of the grotesque Q7 SUV), there's no vehicle that compares directly with Volvo's $45K wagon-on-stilts.  

If you need/want this sort of thing, it's most definitely NOT an irrelevance. Better yet, Volvo is evolving the model for '08, adding the aforementioned more powerful engine, more ground height, better approach/departure angles and hill speed control. The XC70 may fill a relatively small not to say obscure niche, but it fills it very well indeed. 

On the face of it, the V70R wants to make love, not war. Despite distinct visual clues to its adrenal agenda– a lowered stance, aggressive grill, rear spoiler, twin exhaust tips and “R” badges– the basic design embodies the same mellow two box gestalt that won the hearts and minds of generations of New England grad students. In that sense, the V70R is as good an example of respectful evolution as Porsche’s 911 S; it’s slightly aggressive, thoroughly modern and instantly recognizable.

A non-sporting V70’s cabin rivals Audi and Lexus’ caverns for materials’ quality, subdued interior design and ergonomic excellence. That said, there are a few notable exceptions: the V70’s plastic disaster door handles, its Rubbermaid instrument cluster top, the “pleather” infecting the doors and a ho-hum shifter and steering wheel. And now the good news: the R model banishes ALL of these beancounted banes of pistonhead pride and joy.

While full leather interiors in $50k cars are as rare as raven-haired, sauna-aversive Swedes, the V70R goes hog wild for cow hide. Everything that looks like leather is, including the dash, airbag cover, door trim and parking brake boot. The R’s sports steering wheel blends a thick rim with excellent two position grips and well placed controls. Equally reassuring, the V70R’s seats envelop you in supple yet supportive leather, caressing your frame with side bolstering worthy of the mighty M3.

The V70R is powered a 2.5-liter five cylinder transverse-mounted mill stumping-up the aforementioned 300hp. The KKK turbo blows good fortune upon the V70R driver; maximum torque arrives early (295 ft. lbs. @ 1950 rpm) and stays for a late night slice of Västerbotten (5250 rpm). In less technical terms, the V70R offers more mid-range overtaking power than you’ll ever need, exactly when you need it. And you can pin the Labradors to the rear window, blasting from zero to sixty in 5.6 seconds.

This little feat arrives courtesy of the V70R’s combination of Haldex all wheel-drive, a DSTC (Dynamic Stability and Traction Control) handling Nanny and Volvo’s all new semi-active suspension. The V70R's trick Four-C (Continuously Controlled Chassis Concept) computes the wagon's longitudinal and lateral acceleration, body yaw, chassis and wheels’ vertical motion, engine torque and throttle position, degree of braking, steering wheel position and turn rate, and insurance coverage.

Damping forces are adjusted 500 times a second according to your choice of settings: Comfort, Sport or, intimidating enough, Advanced. Unlike the vast majority of these doo-hickeys, the V70R’s Four-C system offers discernible differences in ride and handling. Comfort mode is suitably squidgy, Sport stifles body roll and Advanced removes both your fillings and the high speed pucker factor.

Unfortunately, someone forgot to connect the Four-C system to the V70R’s steering rack. The wagon’s power assisted rack and pinion steering remains resolutely untweaked; the tiller is as numb [albeit accurate] as the regular family hauler’s helm. Thankfully, the same cannot be said of the V70R’s slick shifting and perfectly matched six speed gearbox — although the third pedal’s decidedly binary action prevents it from being a clutch player.

Extensive autobahn testing indicates that the V70R’s claimed zero to 60mph time is accurate (providing it’s cold enough for the turbo). The stated 155mph top speed is both attainable and effortless. And there’s no question: the V70R in Advanced mode will give the significantly shorter Audi S4 Avant a decent run for the money through all but the bandiest bends.

Here’s news: in a seeming rejection of Volvo’s safety shtick, the driver can switch off the V70R’s stability control system. Once disabled, truly determined full throttle application (after initial turn in) yields a smidgen of understeer. Due to the AWD, any desire to initiate a lurid rear wheel-drive tail slide is destined to remain unfulfilled. The V70R’s enormous Brembo brakes will gladly put a stop to such thoughts, repeatedly, without fade or drama.

While the V70R power and poise are an amazing not to say ridiculous achievement, the company’s claim that the wagon is an M3 rival is proof positive that the marketing guys had too much lutefisk that day. Anyway, who cares? The M3 is at least $10K more expensive and can’t haul half as much butt as the Swedish Ford.  

The C70 certainly doesn’t serve-up any funky ingredients or visual spice. It employs the same ultra-conservative squat-nosed jelly bean shape that make the S40 and S50 look like a pair of nurses’ shoes, only longer and wider. Peter Horbury originally penned the C70 as a coupe. The rear seats were added after the fact. Whether by accident or design or accidental design, the resulting shape is far more cohesive and delicate than most four-seat drop tops.

The C70’s retractable metal roof connects the convertible with the Golden Age of American cars; the Swede’s party piece hearkens back to ye olde ’59 Ford Skyliner (a Fairlane derivative). As we’ve come to expect from hardtop drop tops, the C70’s mechanical ballet is precision engineering as street theater. The four piece lid origamis into the car’s trunk in about 30 seconds, disappearing beneath the C70’s carapace to create a genuine– and genuinely handsome– four-seat roadster. The large rear glass is a welcome addition to the show, affording C70 drivers some much-appreciated additional visibility.

Mazda MX5 aside, we’ve also become accustomed to the compromises that no-compromise retractable hardtops inflict on luggage space. Once stowed, all those fancy folding metal bits cut the available trunk space in half (the upper half). So while the C70 convertible is fully capable of mussing the hair of four full-sized adults, it’s completely incapable of stowing the traveling quartet's luggage. In fact, the truncated trunk means that even a couple of fresh air adventurers must pack light. In soft cases.

Ask a Nordic furniture designer; there’s a fine line between austerity and minimalism. The C70’s cabin struggles to cross this aesthetic boundary. While its “floating console,” easy-to-read analogue dials and sensible, tactile switchgear are the very model of a modern major general, there’s a fundamental lack of drama to the space. The blahs weren't helped by our tester’s British Pensioner Grey colour scheme. And as long as we’re being sensible, the C70’s seats provide excellent lumbar support, and nothing helpful in terms of lateral support.

As with many Volvos (I’m looking at you XC90), the C70’s engine bay is too small for the kind of large displacement powerplant that you’d expect in such a glamorously impractical automobile. Yes, transverse-mounted engines conform to the Volvo brand's safety first demands. Yes, the C70 gets an entirely respectable 21 mpg in urban pose mode, and 29 mpg during open road cruise control. But the C70’s 2.5-liter engine is hardly the stuff of muscle car dreams. We’re talking 218hp @ 5000 rpm.

Mind you, Volvo’s been at this turbo-five business for quite some time. They’ve tweaked the mini mill to deliver 236 ft. lbs. of torque @ 1500 – 4800rpm. With so much twist arriving early and staying for lunch, the C70’s acceleration feels a lot more than merely adequate. (Zero to sixty takes roughly seven seconds.) It’s a remarkable achievement, given the C70’s heavy roof, chassis stiffening, Boron steel windshield pillars and ballistic roll-over bars.

Unfortunately, when the revs start to swell, the C70’s throttle response becomes a bit… vague. And then there’s the fact that the C70 puts its power through the front wheels. In Oakley wearing mode, the little Swede is nimble enough. Should wind-in-the-hair motoring tempt you into a little accelerative abandon, it's best to start paying attention. For one thing, torque steer is an issue. For another, despite a top-flight suspension (MacPherson struts with coil-over shocks and stabilizer bars at the front and an independent multi-link at the rear), the sporting C70 driver must make constant mid-corner corrections.

In that sense, the C70 has traditional pony car dynamics: quick off the line, comfortable over the long haul and "challenging" in the bends. Of course, any Raggare worth his “Yank tanks rule!” T-shirt would reject a front-driver sight unseen– especially one from a marque whose products are chrome anti-matter. Never mind. There are enough wealthy Volvo-lovers out there who don’t see any disconnect between sexy handsome, safe and practical, who'd no more thrash the C70 through the twisties than a ducktail wearing Raggare. In short, just like köttbullar, the C70 may not be cool, but it is satisfying.  

The new S80’s sheetmetal betrays the tension between Volvo’s desire to cling to its safe, stolid past and its [perceived] need to get funky with it. The even-more-gently-than-before sloping sheetmetal transitions (from the S80’s hood to its front windscreen and from the rear window to the trunk deck) continue the brand's established rounded radii = safety equation. At the same time, the S80’s broader and higher shoulders create a more masculine appearance. And the aggressive Aston/Jaguar-esque hood strakes try to tell the world that “me first” and “safety first” are not aesthetically incompatible– even if they are.

Anyway, Volvo wasn’t kidding about putting comfort at the top of the list. In typical Scandinavian fashion, the Volvo S80’s interior challenges the Audi for sybaritic supremacy. While both marques get full marks for top notch materials deployed with studied minimalism, Sweden pulls ahead with gloved user-friendly interfaces. The S80’s radio, for example, gives users immediate access to all functions without the previous model’s massive button array. If Swedes spent more time in the S80, Seasonal Affective Disorder would be a thing of the past.

Comfort? Check. Power? The $38,705 base S80 holsters an all-new 3.2-liter inline six that produces 235hp and 236lb.-ft. torque. The advanced cam profiles (toggling between high and low-valve lift) help make the engine relatively economical (19/28 mpg). Yes, well, that’s less horsepower, torque and fuel efficiency than a cheaper, equivalently-engined Audi A4. In subjective terms, S80’s mill labors to propel the car’s 3486lbs through its front wheels. She'll jog to sixty in a more-than-merely-adequate (but hardly spritely) eight seconds.

Scandinavian luxury ingredient number two isn’t missing from the premium S80– the first Volvo sedan with eight cylinders underhood. The same Yamaha-sourced 4.4-liter mill found in the XC90 sidewinds its way into the S80’s beak, pumping-out 311hp and 325lb-ft of twist. Even with almost a thousand pounds less to drag around, the S80 V8 scoots to 60 only slightly faster than the SUV– but a full 1.5 seconds faster than its lesser-engined sibling. Unfortunately, the S80 shares the truck’s dim-witted, mileage-seeking, stomp-to-go gearbox.

With great power comes great premiums; you have stump-up nearly nine more G’s for an optionless V8 ($47,350). Of course, the extra wedge also buys you all-wheel drive, which increases the S80’s bad weather capabilities, but does little to improve its handling dynamics. Whereas drivers of the base model are stuck in permanent plush mode, V8 owners select from Comfort, Sport and Advanced. More accurately, they choose between “Squishy, Slightly Less Squishy and Moderately Firm.” Only the Advanced setting would amuse the committed pistonhead. At best, the S80 is quick and controllable. At worst, it’s a Swedish Lincoln Town Car.

Completing Volvo’s not-so-secret luxury car recipe, the S80’s got all the safety kit covered: crumple zones, cushions and airbags aplenty (including kneepads for the front passenger), whiplash protection, ABS, stability and traction control, seatbelt pretensioners, collision warning adaptive cruise control and pre-panic brake charging. And you can bet that the new S80 will equal the previous model’s five-star NCAP rating when the government gets ‘round to smashing the S80 to smithereens.

The S80 has two unique safety selling points. For an additional $595, BLIS (Blind Spot Information System) radar sensors monitor your rear flanks ten meters aft. When another car is closer and it doesn't appear, the computer illuminates warning lights mounted next to the side mirrors. Unfortunately, the lights are not bright enough; I didn’t notice them turning on and off.

The second system consists of a forward facing radar system that computes the closing rate to objects ahead. If it reckons you're about to test your insurance compay's coverage, it sounds an audible warning and flashes a bright band across the windshield (unlike Mercedes' effort). It's a terrific unique selling point– buried under the general heading of Adaptive Cruise Control. Clearly, the S80 remains a Volvo in the traditional sense. Whether the ever-smaller extra safety margin is worth sacrificing power, handling, price and let's face it, snob value, remains an open question. 

But no more. That's because Volvo's finally replaced the (ironically-named) Mitsubishi Carisma doppelganger with something more befitting the brand. As here in T5 guise, that means 'out' with the 1.9-liter light-pressure turbo (a tepid lump that'd barely get out of its own way, let alone stand up at stoplights), and 'in' with a properly force-fed 2.5-liter five-cylinder and six-speed manual. 'Out' with the uninspired oriental NedCar chassis, 'in' with a more robust platform spun from the same cloth as the Mazda3 and Euro-market Ford Focus.

Good thing, too. With the family sedan arms race spawning improbably vast Toyota Camrys brandishing serious horsepower at Wal-Mart money, 'tweeners' like Volvo's S40 have their work cut out for them. Part of a growing genre counting on the propensity of DINKS and Yuppies-In-Training to trade up, the S40 joins Acura's TSX and Audi's A3 as upmarket alternatives for those willing to sacrifice surplus dinero (and some space and outright pace) for heightened athleticism and a shinier badge.

Aesthetically, S40 isn't a clean-sheet proposition, but that's hardly tragic. Though the S60 remains the best-balanced modern-era Volvo, the design language inaugurated with the S80 has molded handsomely to the entire lineup regardless of scale. General proportions have been messed about with somewhat (the S40's a bit thick-of-middle, a side-effect of its stubby overhangs), but Volvo's now-trademark shoulders, lyrical c-pillar and aggressive prow all look fantastic. Of course, our T5's 'License and REDgistration' paint curried eyeballs, too – a few of them unwanted (Thanks, officer).

Inside, stylists have had their say as well… and the word is: 'Minimalism.' If you're a fan of the sleek and spare as seen on Scandinavian furnishings and obnoxiously pricy stereo equipment, your ride's here. Highlighting the interior is a free-floating aluminum ribbon center console, bisecting driver from passenger. Topped by a display for the dual-zone climate control and Dolby Pro-Logic changer, S40's control layout appears daunting, but troubles little. Seats proffering ample support and articulation are clad in Volvo's unique 'T-Tec' fabric, which lurks somewhere between cloth and neoprene. A fine alternative to the usual cow/cloth conundrum, it's stylish and grips better than leather. Unfortunately, S40's minimalism also extends to its lack of space. There's an appalling lack of storage, trick console nook or no. Visibility is generally good, though the rear headrests and stylish c-pillar create a blind spot compounded by S40's too-dainty side mirrors.

Of course, in true Swedish fashion, underneath its mod garb, S40 secrets sensible shoes. Fashioned in high-tensile steel, Volvo hasn't ashcanned its passion for safety with its t-squares. The company's VIVA ('Volvo Intelligent Vehicle Architecture') melds four different metals in a network of supports that improve energy dissipation during accidents. Naturally, S40 also packs more nannies than a Congressional daycare parking lot: Stability Traction Control, ABS, electronic brakeforce distribution, etc. Should things go pear-shaped, innumerable airbags, seatbelt pretensioners, and Volvo's SIPS (Side-Impact Protection System) stand ready to commit hari-kari for those within.

The T5's sports-sedan dampening rides a skosh firmly over pockmarked roads. However, its ride penalty pays it forward during enthusiast sorties, as all 872 hooves stay on point when the tarmac meanders– no easy task with 218 ponies charging through the front wheels (AWD is available). Torque steer is credibly non-invasive. Pushed hard, understeer is the predictable outcome, but the cornering threshold afforded by S40's 17" Michelin Pilots is certainly high enough to make for entertaining driving.

You'd be forgiven for thinking that a naturally unbalanced motor like Volvo's five-banger might make an unfortunate racket, but the 2.5-liter makes a convincing commotion, underpinned by a siren's turbocharger whistle. And though some have muttered about the S40's six-speed gearbox, this unit was reasonably slick. What does cause consternation, however, is the snatchy clutch's less-than-linear action. It makes fluid throttle modulation a tricky business, putting the lid on driver confidence. And while the electro-hydraulic steering's feel won't put Lotus on notice, at least it maneuvers with precision, and S40's binders deploy with credible conviction and stamina.

For feng shui fanatics, Volvo's S40 T5 offers the chance to travel sprightly while packing lightly, but it's ultimately conflicted. At $29k, it ain't cheap, and downers like the obstinate clutch and lack of storage ultimately put the kybosh on any chance for Zen-like serenity. A tweak or two away from starter Yuppie nirvana, another round on Volvo's NordicTrack might see it achieve its proper state. S40R, anyone?

The newly-engined Volvo XC90 shows that the Ford subsidiary understands that the ideal 'soft roader' is nothing more than a luxury car on stilts. It must be comfortable enough so that none of its occupants wants to throttle a fellow passenger (always a plus for family car buyers), tall enough to impart a sense of superiority, fast enough to exercise that authority and nimble enough not to roll over and die when you do. Oh yes, and safe. It's got to be safe.

Obviously, Volvo's got the safety part wired. The XC90's standard equipment reflects the brand's longstanding expertise in anti-maim, anti-mortality technology: roll stability control with gyroscopic sensors, seat belt pretensioners all 'round, airbags for all, a boron steel passenger safety cell, ABS brakes, faultless ergonomics, car-like handing and… a V8 engine. Yes, the new eight-cylinder engine is part of Volvo's cunning plan to keep its customers alive long enough to buy at least two Volvos per lifetime, and spawn 2.3 future buyers.

The automotive media has been banging on about how the Volvo XC90 needed a "proper" V8 to compete with its mucho macho rivals– as if all SUV buyers are men who equate valve numbers with penis size. The truth is that the XC90 needed a V8 because the 2.5 and 2.8-liter turbocharged engines aren't powerful enough to quickly and efficiently propel the 4500lbs. SUV out of harm's way.

Granted, the XC's four and five-cylinder engines aren't stupidly slow; in the same sense that the new V8 isn't searingly quick. But overtaking in the smaller-engined variants requires planning. Emergencies are, by their nature, unplanned. So let's call the 4.4-liter V8 "reassuringly swift'. Put the hammer down and the powerplant will squirt the XC90 past an 18-wheeler on an unmarked two-lane road, in the dark, on a bend, with no fuss, no twisted metal muss.

The XC90's new V8 is also a safety feature because of its size, shape and positioning. Here's the deal…

When Volvo decided to add oomph to their first-ever SUV, they were stuck with a vehicle designed around their compact turbo engines. They had to find a V8 small enough to fit– sideways– inside the SUV's petite nose. So the brand hooked-up with Yamaha, who built them a narrow-angle V8 good for three hundred plus horses. Call it good luck born out of necessity; the upright engine's compact dimensions leave the original amount of space allocated for front deformation (that's crumpled metal to you and me). It's an elegant solution.

That said, the Japanese engine's singular design is not without its faults. Though suitably loud, it's certainly not the most charismatic sounding V8 since muscle cars first roamed the earth. There's also a bit of an accelerative dead zone between 40 and 60mph, which only a big old stomp on the go-pedal can cure, where the computerized gearbox sacrifices speed on the altar of fuel efficiency. And here's where Volvo XC90 V8 is a little, um, conflicted.

The top-of-the-range XC90 V8 gets 17mpg in the city and 21mpg on the highway. The good news is that these mileage figures are only slightly less bad than the mpg's generated by the smaller turbo-charged engines. The bad news is that the numbers are bad– especially for a brand that likes to wear its eco-friendly credentials on its artfully creased fenders. The good news (and I mean it this time) is that the XC90 is one of the few V8-powered SUV that meets the government's Ultra-Low Emissions Vehicle (ULEV) standards.

So… You burn up a lot of fuel in an XC90 V8– especially if you're not prone to dawdling– but the SUV doesn't release as many ozone-killing hydrocarbons as the other guys'. Plus you're driving one of the safest and most luxurious SUV's on the planet, with a low-slung front bumper that lessens your chance of skewering fellow road users with your prow.

Where does all that leave an XC90 V8 owner in the politically correct scheme of things? Hell if I know. But any SUV that can sprint from zero to sixty in 6.9 seconds, cruise serenely, corner confidently, coddle magnificently and protect my four children (even if it's just theoretically) is always welcome to tip on in.