Design Study: Mercedes-Benz S-Class

Twenty years ago, if one were to trying to describe the differences in the various models from Mercedes-Benz, it would be something along the lines of “just like the big, boring sedan, only bigger / smaller.” No longer. The Japanese, once viewed as nothing more than a bunch of Pacific-rim wet smack upstarts who would NEVER produce a viable competitor to the established German marques, have changed the rules of the game. Not only do the Asian prestige brands have a stranglehold on quality, but some of them are starting to actually look pretty, too. Uh oh. Seems time to swim upstream, mein freund.

The late 20th century's over, thankfully. So there's no longer any need for the well-heeled or arriviste consumers to apologize for– or even make motions to conceal– conspicuous consumption. Why speak softly and carry a big stick when you can afford a bullhorn and bazooka? To that end, Mercedes' S-Class is finally showing signs of emerging from its identity crisis. The biggest, most expensive car in the lineup OUGHT to provoke an almost apoplectic concupiscence, right? It should be the knockout; the brick house.

Ostensibly then, the big S is the model driving the styling direction of the company– though Audi never seemed to get on board with that theory, and Bavarian Motor Works is busy back-pedaling. But if the S550 is the thrust, then I'm afraid it bodes ill for the rest of the range. In a diametric flip-flop worthy of the Bush administration's foreign policy, Mercedes has gone from being a company that couldn't get the front-end right to one that botches the tail.

The S550’s nose is merely standard-issue Mercedes boilerplate, hobbled somewhat with the need for a more upright grille area to comply with European pedestrian crash safety standards. Like any efficient courtesan, however, the front-end styling saves all the excitement for below the belt, where an interesting grouping of shapes is at play. (Dare I say racy?) I enjoy the way the styling folks at Mercedes make a single molded plastic unit look as though it’s composed of impossibly tight-fitting separate bits; it’s perceived quality– perhaps just shy of fictive– but nice.

No doubt about it, this is a big car. By all indications, there was a stalemate as to whether or not to emphasize that fact from the side. Gone are the days of the legendary Mercedes flying phallus wedge, in favor of something a little more nympholeptic. Hey, I’m all for getting in touch with the feminine side, but then why the positively congested wheel arches? That conceit didn’t even work for the hysterically hyper-styled ML55 and that was a truck, guys! I half expect the S550 to suppurate brake fluid out all four corners onto my Bruno Maglis. Elevate it and give it a cold compress, please.

And while you’re at it, save some of that avant-garde for the side mirrors. Mercedes, the company that integrated turn-signals into the mirror housings (most visibly, at least) has moved on. That’s okay… The Volkswagen group is more than happy to pay attention to detail opportunities like these. Oh dear, oh dear. Now the rear.

Across the board, this used to be Mercedes’ strong suit. No matter how insouciant the stylists were with the front, you could always count on there being a tight little hiney. Like the view of the people on the beach at St. Tropez, the rear 3/4 was usually the view of preference. At best, the S550’s taillight treatment is breathtakingly boring and weak; at worst, it’s a shameless attempt to forge a link to Mercedes’ own Maybach. Granted, the S500 ain’t cheap, but precious few will confuse the money-for-money’s-sake empyrean Maybach with something from the three pointed star, taillights be damned.

Inside the S550, corporate jet is the current styling dictum, what with all the scalloped seatbacks and offset lighting. Air travel always conjured-up impressions of leg cramps and sinus infections to me, but I fly coach. Not so the ones buttering the S550’s bread, and it shows with impressive materials, most of which take great pains to project quality. Apart from the somewhat overwrought sweeping dashboard shape (an unfortunate Mercedes trend, likely to continue), the sum of the parts works toward a pretty convincing whole. And thank the maker that the S550’s interior stylists have rediscovered chrome switchgear, because Mercedes’ suppliers can’t seem to wrap their minds around the concept of soft-touch, good looking plastic. My advice? Stick with what you know…

So for those with the 8-digit income (7-digit is SO three-scandals-ago) who wish to hurtle along in apollonian splendor, Mercedes presents the thoroughly competent, if not particularly cohesive, S550. Nobody emerges from an identity crisis fully intact, but then of course we won’t know for sure until the swelling goes down.