2011 Honda CR-Z

Let's get this out of the way right now: the 2011 Honda CR-Z is not a CRX redux. To compare the two – no matter how much Honda may want to – is to misunderstand the former and besmirch the latter.

No, the hybrid CR-Z is an entirely different beast. Despite its three-door shape and two-seat configuration, it has about as much in common with the O.G. hatch as a big-screen remake of your favorite childhood TV show. The basic components are there, but the whole concept has been throttled to within an inch of its life with high-tech gadgetry, odd casting decisions and a questionable demographic.

But to Honda's credit, its rhetorical comparisons to the CRX have died down considerably since the CR-Z debuted in concept form and then progressed into a production model. Honda may have recognized after a lukewarm introduction outside the U.S. that glomming onto nostalgia will only get you so far (see: Dodge Challenger and Chevrolet Camaro). And to make something special – a vehicle that transcends the emotional baggage of its predecessor – you've got to evolve the concept and avoid relying on rose-tinted sentimentality.

To an extent, that's exactly what Honda has created. It hasn't built another hot hatch – the lightweight, K20-powered three-door enthusiasts crave – and instead it has attempted to meld the technology of the moment into a greenified competitor to the Mini Cooper. Think of it as the rogue lovechild of the original and current Insight, with a few sporting genes spliced into its DNA. But can a hybrid hatch be an entertaining steer? We took to California's twisties and clipped a few cones to find out.


If you were completely smitten by the CR-Z concept from the 2007 Tokyo Motor Show, the retail model may leave you a bit cold. Viewed side-by-side, the basic elements are there – high hatch, wedge shape, massive snout – but as with so many designs rotating on pedestals, everything's been watered down in the production process.

The deeply recessed grille and its center mounted "H" have been dispatched for a more pedestrian-friendly nose, while the blistered fenders, glass roof and aggressive haunches have all been relegated to the designer's trash bin. We won't call it neutered, nor will we result to the roller-skate cliche, but the CR-Z's 16-inch wheels (the only hoops available) and higher ride height have laid to waste the concept's edgy aggressiveness. And the first time a state-mandated front license plate is fitted, crouching Bugs Bunny references won't be far behind.




On the positive side, the blacked-out A- and B-pillars combined with the highly contoured windshield and greenhouse provide a pleasant wrap-around effect, while the high, split-glass hatch and triangular taillamps lend the CR-Z a more purposeful stance. The visibility afforded by the thinner A-pillars – something that's largely absent on modern vehicles – is a breath of fresh air, but on the flip side, the tall hatch and massive C-pillars make lane-changes a double- then triple-check affair.

Viewed as a whole (and if you hadn't seen the concept), it's a smart, youthful design with dozens of subtle stylistic elements that catch your eye over time. The only thing that's obviously missing is a visible exhaust outlet – something akin to the integrated exhaust tips on the Euro-market Civic would've been a nice touch.



The interior does a better job of tipping you off to the CR-Z's sporting pretenses, beginning with a pair of sufficiently bolstered seats and a small diameter steering wheel. All the controls are canted towards the driver, including the optional sat-nav, standard climate controls and drive mode selectors. The dash doesn't extend as far forward as we would have expected given the steeply raked windshield, nor does it completely encompass the occupants (note the odd cliff-face on the passenger side of the dash).

Mercifully, Honda has decided to ditch the Civic's two-tiered instrument panel for a center-mounted pseudo-3D tach with a technicolor digital speedo mounted in the middle. Battery and charge status, shift indicator, fuel level and real-time consumption flank the sides and look both futuristic and slightly half-baked. If you must, think of it as a low-rent version of the Ferrari 458 Italia's driver command center, complete with a user-customizable Multi-Information Display for standard trip readings, along with an Integrated Motor Assist (IMA) flow indicator, "Eco Guide and Eco Scoring" and exterior temperature reading.



Fit and finish is on par with anything from Honda in the $20,000-25,000 segment, with soft-touch materials lining the major touch points and an interesting vacuum-formed metal coating the door handles (an industry first). The rear cargo area was obviously designed with kid seats in mind for the European and Japanese market, but in the U.S. we get a pair of recessed, carpeted plastic trays in their stead. The upright panel can be folded down to expand the standard 25.1 cubic feet of cargo space, although the only way to fold or snap it into place is to move the front seat forward and reach through the door opening. Thankfully, it's a single-handed affair.

With all the techno-tidbits available inside (along with standard USB audio and a 12V power source), oddly, our favorite interior feature came in the form of a configurable cargo cover. You can mount the vinyl overlay in three different ways to either completely obscure the cargo area or leave it open for luggage, golf bags or small bodies. But the third setup – humorously dubbed "Secret Mode" – creates a small parcel area at the very end of the hatch to hold smaller items (grocery bags, laptop and camera cases) so they won't shuffle around during spirited sprints. Speaking of which...



If you're not already aware, the CR-Z's roots are based on the new-for-2010 Insight hatch. You can groan now if you wish, but take solace in the fact that Honda has managed to shorten the wheelbase to 95.8 inches, widen the track to 59.6 inches in front and 59.1 inches in the rear, with a total length of 160.6 inches. MacPherson struts work in concert with 18-mm front and rear stabilizer bars, and the whole setup has been fitted to a suitably taut chassis. The bad news: We're stuck with a torsion-beam suspension in the rear. The worse news: the curb weight comes in between 2,637 and 2,707 pounds depending on the transmission and equipment levels. For reference, the four-passenger, five-door Insight tips the scales at 2,734 pounds, which isn't much difference at all.

As you'd expect, Honda's focus lies on the CR-Z's Integrated Motor Assist hybrid system and its 1.5-liter i-VTEC four-cylinder pulled from the Fit. In the five-door runabout, the four-pot is good for 117 horsepower and 106 pound-feet of torque, but combined with the IMA system's Ni-Mh battery and brushless DC motor, Honda rates the CR-Z with the six-speed manual at 122 hp at 6,000 RPM and 128 lb-ft of torque from a deceivingly shallow 1,000 to 1,750 RPM. Honda says the electric motor is good for 13 hp and 58 lb-ft of twist on its own, so we're not entirely sure how the maths work out on that. We've left it to our engineering-savvy Mr. Abuelsamid to parse out the details, so let's get to the driving.



Judged by the stats alone, we started up the CR-Z with more than mild trepidation. In the Fit, the 1.5-liter isn't exactly an inspired engine and sadly, that hasn't changed in this application. The engine note is more hotel-grade Oreck than the manic, high-revving Hondas of yore, and as you move up through the rev-range, the wasps under the hood get angrier but fail to deliver a sting.

With the traction control switched off, the IMA delivers just enough torque to spin the tires when you launch around 3,000 RPM. Acceleration through the first two gears is on the high-side of acceptable as the four-pot strains towards its 6,500 RPM redline, but by the time you reach third, most of the steam has escaped the engine bay. Our best guesstimate on a 0-60 mph time is somewhere in the 10-second range. Hardly stirring, but not unexpected.

However, off-the-line performance isn't the CR-Z's forte. If Honda's "Hybrid Cafe Racer" line is to be believed, this hatch's true calling is in the canyons. And here, a faint light shines through.



In Normal and Eco mode, the CR-Z trundles along as you'd expect; a lazy commuter focused on efficiency. However, press the Sport button and the steering and throttle tighten. Inputs are more direct as you crank the quick ratio steering (2.5 turns lock-to-lock) and the shifter effortlessly slips through the gears. The six-speed manual tranny is slightly notchier than other Honda 'boxes, but it inspires you to row up and down the ratios to find the meat of the powerband. Lay into the throttle in third or fourth and there's more noise than motivation, but when the first corner appears, the brakes haul down the CR-Z at a decent clip. On the road, brake fade remained absent, but during a few hot laps around a makeshift autocross course, pedal feel got progressively mushier as we pushed harder and braked later, particularly when attempting to stop in a cordoned-off cone box.

Steering is typical Honda: direct, if slightly overboosted. Initial turn-in and mild mid-corner corrections were encouraging, as is the additional weight of the rear-mounted battery pack, allowing the CR-Z to rotate quicker than other short-wheelbase three-doors we've sampled. That additional pounds and 60:40 weight split inspired confidence through high-speed sweepers, but the downside is a fair amount of body roll through trickier, twistier bits and a penchant for understeer without a good flick of the wheel or a fair amount of trail-braking.



We only had a brief stint in a CVT-equipped model, and the seamlessness of the start-stop system in the manual version was replaced with a more abrupt shudder when switching back on from a stop – exactly as we've experienced on the Insight. As with most CVTs, the "elastic band" sensation is there, albeit slightly more refined, holding the revs at around 6,000 rpm when matting the throttle and allowing you to shift through seven faux ratios when the mood strikes you. As you'd expect, the manual is easily the more sporting setup, but Honda estimates somewhere between 70 and 75 percent of all CR-Z's will be equipped with the quasi-automatic. Which brings up the obvious question: Who's the CR-Z for?

If we were a cynical bunch, we'd assume it's yet another vehicle designed to improve overall CAFE ratings. And with fuel economy ratings of 36/39 mpg city/highway with the CVT and 31/37 on the manual model, it's certainly going to help. But that's too easy. If you believe Honda, it's estimating that the average buyer will be a style and eco-conscious consumer between 25 and 35, smitten by the small size and blue Hybrid badge on the boot. That we can almost buy, particularly given that Honda will be pricing the base model under $20,000 and the fully-kitted EX with Navi will slide in under $24,000 when it goes on sale August 24. But is it an enthusiast's vehicle? Hardly. With more power, bigger brakes and a more sophisticated suspension (we're sure Hasport is working on a engine mount kit as you read this), this could've been the CRX for the 21st century. Instead, it's a capable fuel miser that can muster some sport when summoned. Unsurprising, but disappointing nonetheless.

Review: 2010 Jaguar XFR is still the Papa Bear

When our man Lieberman drove the 2010 Jaguar XF Supercharged earlier this year, he came to the conclusion that of all the models in the XF range, the mid-grade Supercharged with its 470-horsepower V8 was the one to have, if you're buying. After all, at a relatively modest $68,000, it's a sexy sleeper with enough high-powered thrills to keep you happy while still being everyday-drivable and easily tamed. We wholeheartedly agree with our dear Jonny in this conclusion, and if we had never experienced this top-rung XFR, we'd be perfectly thrilled with our purchase.

But we have driven the XFR – once in France and now again in America – and asking us to overlook either experience when considering the XF range simply isn't going to happen. The R makes too much of an impression.

Yes, the Supercharged may be the "just right" Goldilocks model in the XF lineup, but the XFR is Papa Bear. That 'R' badge will cost you an extra $12,000, which is undoubtedly a hefty sum to pay when you consider that it only produces 40 more horsepower than the Supercharged. Thus, it's easy to write off the XFR as unnecessary or overzealous, but its sharper set of chops are able to handle so much more than lukewarm porridge. This car is a real honey, finances be damned!

Before you even begin to think about the 510 raging stallions under the hood, the XFR will impress with its top-notch styling. Jaguar has really come into its own again over the past few years, and its full range is one of the most attractive on the market. The XF design, introduced in 2008, is aging quite nicely, and the subtle tweaks given to the R further enhance the strong emphasis on sex appeal.

Sure, the XF Supercharged is more of a sleeper, but the XFR has a more powerful stance and looks the part of a high-caliber sport sedan. We're very fond of the large air intakes that flank either side of the front fascia, and who can resist drooling over the XFR-only air intakes on the hood lined with "supercharged" text. The other visual upgrades like handsome 20-inch wheels, bespoke side skirts and a sharp lip spoiler blend well with the XF's design, and if you had never seen the base car before, you'd think that all XFs looked this way. It's that natural, and not nearly as brash as a BMW M5 or Mercedes-Benz E63 AMG, both of which simply scream, "No, officer, I don't know how fast I was going."



A similar theme of elegance has graced the cabin, which is quite stunning, especially in our test car's London Tan and Graphite two-tone attire. The sport buckets up front are incredibly comfortable, and because they can be adjusted 18 different ways, they can be contoured to mold just about any driver's shape. Overall fit and finish is good, if predictable for an $80,000 chariot, and the simplistic, understated appearance of the dash and controls goes a long way in not over-complicating the cockpit. The XF's funny turnstyle gear selector and air vents that open and close when the car is turned on and off are a neat parlor trick and never fail to impress passengers, but we still can't help but wonder what sort of problems could arise down the road. Motors do malfunction, after all.

All XFRs come standard with dual-zone climate control, heated and cooled seats, a premium Bowers & Wilkins audio system with HD radio, satellite navigation and an in-dash six-disc CD changer, among other luxurious staples. The touch-screen interface is relatively intuitive to use, but the response time for changing between screens and functions takes longer than we'd like. The same goes for the CD mechanism and shuttling between satellite radio stations. It might seem like a nitpicky quaff, but we just can't help but feel annoyed when it takes a few minutes just to empty the changer. (We're journalists – we had to find something to complain about.)



One area where we have no complaint, however, is the powertrain. Jaguar's latest 5.0-liter V8 with direct injection and supercharged boost is, in a word, brilliant, especially when it's free to crank out all 510 horsepower and 461 pound-feet of torque in XFR guise. The overall acceleration feels more urgent than in the high-revving BMW M5, and the fat torque curve complimented by the faint whine of the supercharger makes you eager to stomp on the go-pedal. But while some cars with 500-plus horsepower can often be tedious to drive around town, this kitty can be easily tamed when slumming through heavy traffic. This isn't to say that the throttle is lazy at initial tip-in, though. The accelerator is easy to modulate, and if we're honest, we really enjoy the feeling of putting more weight down on our right foot when the tap really starts to open up.

Even in standard Drive mode, the six-speed automatic transmission swaps cogs quickly and is willing to immediately downshift when asked, but moving the shift knob over to Sport heightens the experience. In its more enthusiastic drive setting, the transmission is more willing to hold gears all the way up to redline, and if you opt to use the steering wheel-mounted paddles (and you most certainly should), you'll be pleasantly surprised with how quick the response time is from paddle tap to gear change. In most instances, it's dual-clutch quick, and that's deeply impressive.



Out on the open road, the XFR is extremely sure-footed and nimble for tight cornering. JaguarDrive Control, which monitors the steering, brake and throttle inputs, adjusts the dampening 100 times per second, allowing the R to remain composed at all times. Turn off the traction control, and the rear wheels can bite you back when pushed cavalierly, but it's all in good fun. You can really work the XFR harder than you'd think, and it doesn't whine or feel sloppy as you inch closer to its limits. The steering inspires even more driver confidence – it's neither numb nor heavy, but provides enough feedback to ensure that sudden inputs are properly managed without issue.

Serious track day enthusiasts will still probably prefer an M5, but there's no doubt that the Jaguar can most certainly keep pace. Our only want is for a more audible exhaust note, though the uncanny cabin quietness is mostly attributed to the design of lesser, naturally aspirated XF models that need to serve the purpose of a luxury car first and a driver's machine second.




In all, the XFR's dynamics are seriously competitive against its German rivals. Comparisons to America's Cadillac CTS-V are warranted, especially if you consider that the Caddy is both cheaper and quicker, and will more than likely pull off better lap times around a track. But when it comes time to drive home at the end of the day, the Jaguar gets our pick each and every time. It's more refined than the offerings from Benz and BMW, and feels substantially more luxurious and higher-quality than the CTS-V.

In all of this praise, though, the one fact we can't forget about is the price. $80,000 honestly isn't that big of a purse for a car like this, considering that it houses one of the best V8s in the world and will do the same work as your Bimmer or Merc in a more chic package. But then there's that XF Supercharged again, with nearly the same amount of refinement and high-power thrills that will keep you happy all day long, all for $12K less. Don't get us wrong, we absolutely adore the XFR, and have no doubt that Papa Bear could have easily ripped Goldilocks to shreds if she had been caught during her breaking and entering escapade; but the safer XF Supercharged isn't too hot, isn't too cold, and is indeed, "just right." Ah, hell. Who cares if we burn our tongues?

Review: 2010 Mercedes-Benz GLK350 4Matic is more than just a movie prop

When you launch a vehicle during the year's most over-hyped estrogenfest, you're obviously trying to appeal to a specific demographic. Specifically, not us. There's a reason we haven't taken a crack at the Mercedes-Benz GLK until the sequel to Sex and the City hit the screen. It was just too easy to pigeonhole this cute 'ute as nothing more than a boxy four-wheeled trinket – a cynical fashion accessory designed to compliment your rat-faced pooch and Manolo Blahniks (yes, we had to look that up).

But a funny thing happened on the way down I-5.

While blasting the stereo and hauling along at a decidedly Germanic clip, all of the stereotypes about the GLK's target demographic flew out its expansive sunroof. For as much as we dislike the mere idea of "entry-level luxury" – and in particular the scads of pseudo-SUVs that populate it – the GLK started to make sense. It's well proportioned, has adequate power and comes with nearly enough amenities to match its tri-pointed badge. We actually enjoyed it, even though our manhood might've taken a hit in the process.

Speaking of hits, from a stylistic standpoint, the GLK is either a solid double or a strikeout. Over the course of a few days, we warmed up to it, enjoying the E-Class-inspired rear fender flares, expansive greenhouse and tight posterior. Its Sports Appearance Package 20-inch, seven-spoke wheels fit the blistered arches to a "T," and while the emblem is larger than a Big Gulp lid, we've resigned ourselves to the fact that Mercedes-Benz is taking a "go big or go home" approach to its fascias.

Inside, the slab-sided aesthetic of the exterior carries over to good effect, with a right-sized dash, center console and steering wheel. It's a clean, if staid design for its segment and made up of de rigueur C-Class materials to match. The center-mounted speedo recieves the standard Merc LCD display in the middle, allowing you to toggle between everything from fuel consumption to trip readings. The gauges are clear and legible, the steering wheel controls easy to understand and even easier to operate.



The stereo is an ode to simplicity, save the numerical keypad running along the right side, and the dual-zone climate controls are nicely knurled, if a little shifty in their fitment. In short, everything is exactly where you'd expect, including the large COMAND knob aft of the shifter and the absolutely massive (and slightly comical) dollar-coin-sized engine start button.

Finger that aluminum-look starter and the 3.5-liter V6 gets startled to life and falls into a smooth drone in the background. With just over 4,000 pounds to motivate, the 268 horsepower and 258 pound-feet of torque are up to the job, and in our tester's 4Matic (read: all-wheel-drive) trim, the first stab of the throttle was met with more acceleration than expected. The standard seven-speed automatic flicked through the ratios with the speed and assurance we've come to expect from the Benz boyz, lending more credence to the claims that Mercedes vehicles offer some of the best 'boxes in the biz.



A few circular on- and off-ramps along with a run down a local Bay Area backroad proved that the GLK is remarkably more at home on the curves than most of its closest competition. The steering, while fingertip light, provided a connection to the road largely devoid on most luxo-soft-roaders and, despite its lanky proportions, the GLK was remarkably adept at handling the twisties. The rough(ish) ride we experienced on the highway and around town became an asset, not a curse, when bouncing from bend to bend, with body motions kept in check and an uncommon amount of front grip when heading into a corner a touch to fast. Scrubbing off speed with the four-wheel discs was never an issue, with firm, positive feedback that proved fade-free throughout our various drives.

Mercedes' COMAND interface seems to fall somewhere in between Audi's MMI and BMW's iDrive when it comes to ease-of-use, with a well thought out menu structure and a "Back" button always providing you a quick escape from sub-menu hell. While we understand the safety concerns about entering a destination into the nav system, the inability of the passenger to get directions while the GLK is trundling through traffic became a reoccurring annoyance. Even more galling was the lack of Bluetooth audio streaming or even a standard 1/8th-inch jack to run our phone into the system. If Ford can do it in the bargain basement Fiesta, surely a Benz driver shouldn't be forced to listen to their tunes through a crappy set of headphones – particularly on an audio system this damn good.



A quick review of the GLK's interior stats proves what we've suspected all along: its quarters are slightly more cramped compared to the competition, particularly in rear leg and shoulder room. Similarly, its maximum cargo capacity – 55 cubic feet – is notably lower than the 71 cu-ft provided by the BMW X3 and slightly less than the 61 cubes found in the Acura RDX. However, considering it's the shortest of the bunch, that's to be expected, although it is the tallest and the widest amongst its German competitors.

Situated in the firm, comfortable seats while peering through the uncharacteristically upright windshield, we began to think of the GLK as more of a mini-G-Wagon rather than the high-riding C-Class on which it's based. That impression lasted right up until the moment we pulled up next to one of M-B's WWII throwbacks. Despite its marginally rough ride, the GLK is not a Gelandewagen at two-thirds scale. It's far too modern, far too composed and, yes, far too ordinary to carry on that legacy. But that's not a bad thing.



With competition coming from all coasts, the GLK is remarkably well-equipped to handle the onslaught of buyers looking to downsize. Our fuel economy numbers landed smack-dab in the middle of the EPA's estimates (16/21 mpg city/hwy, 17.7 mpg tested) and the 4Matic's starting price of $36,600 (minus $2k for rear-wheel drive) puts it right on par with the rest of the pack.

However, as with anything hailing from Deutschland, the price rockets skyward like Atlantis on its final flight if you get crazy with the options. Our tester – fitted with the $3,150 Premium Package (memory seats, power liftgate, Panorama sunroof, etc.), $3,350 Multimedia Pack (5.1 Dolby surround, seven-inch color display, COMAND) and an assortment of other kit – rang up an MSRP of $50,235. That's nearly enough to buy Ford's aforementioned subcompact for your kid along with a bone-stock GLK. Then again, that's just how the German's roll.



Needless to say, in the realm of compact luxury crossovers, you're basking in a big bucket of choice. But while the RDX might be sportier, it's decidedly less refined. And while the Audi Q5 might fit like a well-tailored suit, it lacks the panache to stand out from the crowd. So where does the GLK fit in? Right in the middle; a pseudo-'ute for fashion-conscious Cougars and maybe their well-heeled suitors. We wouldn't mind driving it to the multiplex, even if that involves a rendezvous with four insufferable forty-somethings. No matter, we'll leave with our manhood intact.

2010 Chrysler 300C SRT8 remains a guilty pleasure

If the economic downfall of 2008 had happened just a few years earlier, the Chrysler 300C SRT8 probably wouldn't exist. Think about it: when the nation was on the verge of $4.00/gallon gasoline and people were doing everything possible to get out of their fuel-sucking SUVs and into smaller, more efficient vehicles, a 425-horsepower flagship sedan with a free-breathing 6.1-liter Hemi V8 doesn't make a whole lot of sense. But then again, did it ever?

The 300C SRT8 is the product of a pre-castrated Chrysler. This was a time of Viper-powered Rams, Hemi-powered Jeeps and SRT-badged Neons. "You want it, you got it." Chrysler wanted the 300C SRT8 to start a new trend of muscle sedans – a land where quarter-mile times reigned supreme, and booming exhaust notes were all that mattered. This trend never really caught on (save the Cadillac CTS-V, which has been honed to be one hell of a machine), and at the end of the day, Chrysler was left with a big, heavy, powerful sedan that didn't offer much in the way of refinement and carried a near-$50,000 price tag.

But despite its flaws – and there are quite a few – we still think of the 300C SRT8 as a guilty pleasure. It has all the ingredients of an American muscle car wrapped in a four-door, luxury(ish) package.

First shown in concept form at the 2003 New York Auto Show, the 300 really drove home the retro-inspired styling language that Chrysler infused into most of its products in the early 2000s. And to this day, we're still fans of the 300's design, particularly in SRT guise. All perimeter surfaces of the car are flat, and with the lowered stance and bigger wheels, it's simply striking, standing in stark contrast to the swoopy, fluid designs that have come to light in recent years. Yes, the 300's look is aging, and a new car is in the works for the 2012 model year, but we'd never use terms like "ugly" or "weird" to describe its appearance, and it still stands out in a good way.

The high beltline, narrow greenhouse, minimal front overhang and pronounced wheel arches on the 300C SRT8 go a long way towards hinting at the model's performance potential. In fact, for many years, a special SRT Design trim level was offered on the 300, which added the more aggressive front fascia (revised grille and lower lip spoiler), 20-inch Alcoa forged alloy wheels and slightly lowered ride height to models equipped with the less powerful (and less awesome) 5.7-liter V8. The SRT8 trim is the only thing that keeps the 300C's design in the front of our minds, especially since lesser V6 models tend to look lanky and somewhat disproportionate.




The interior, however, is a place where the 300's design hasn't managed to retain any sort of longevity. It's relatively bland, fronted with odd fittings like the oversized steering wheel, thick A-pillars and a deep dashboard, and when paired with Chrysler's poor interior refinement, it's a bad fit in a sedan that carries a near-$50,000 price tag. What's more, SRT8 cabins don't stand apart from what you'd find in less-costly models, save the aluminum trim and suede-like material that wraps the top quarter of the steering wheel. The big improvements to the 300's interior, though, are the SRT-specific seats, which are extremely comfortable and supportive – the sort of seats you'd want for cross-country drives. Really, we can't praise these chairs enough, and they go a long way in making the 300's interior a more livable environment. In every other regard, though, the quality of all cabin materials are below par at best – clunky plastics, shoddy fittings of trim around the gear shifter and radio/HVAC controls, and scads of other issues remind you this is what passed for a domestic bread-and-butter sedan in the early half of the last decade.

If you can get past the fact that the interior doesn't feel as nice as it should given the price, the functionality and usability isn't all that upsetting. Our top-trim test car was packed with all the latest and greatest convenience and comfort amenities – heated seats, sunroof, dual-zone climate control and auxiliary input/iPod integration worked into Chrysler's UConnect navigation/infotainment system. No, the UConnect isn't as feature-rich as systems like SYNC, MMI, iDrive or COMAND, but it's extremely easy to use, and though the whole interface is somewhat outdated, we don't have many qualms. We like simple, intuitive infotainment systems, and UConnect sits well with us.




The 300 rides on Chrysler's LX platform, and with a wheelbase of 120 inches, there's a ton of room for rear seat occupants – 40.2 inches of legroom, to be exact. Even up front, the legroom and shoulder room is more than accommodating. The problem, though, is that because of the low roof and high beltline, headroom is greatly compromised. You'll want to raise the driver's seat to get a commanding view of the road in front of you, but even your relatively short author (ringing in at five-feet, six inches) had issues with headroom. This is even more noticeable during ingress and egress, where you'll need to duck slightly to avoid hitting your head on the roofline. The headroom issue isn't as noticeable for rear seat passengers, but it's still a pain for getting in and out, especially since the back doors don't open nearly as far as you'd expect. Still, the rear seats are extremely comfortable (much like the buckets up front), and there were few complaints from passengers during our test.

All of these faults are immediately forgotten the first time you lay into the throttle and go blasting down a straightaway. The 6.1-liter Hemi roars to life and thrusts you forward with 425 horsepower and 420 pound-feet of torque; the five-speed automatic holding each gear to its peak when your right foot is pressed to the floor. It's a great feeling, and when you consider that the 300C SRT8 is a relatively hefty beast (4,160 pounds), the fact that it will rip off 0-60 mph times in the low five-second range is pretty impressive stuff. We don't even need to tell you how poor the fuel economy on something like this is, but we will anyway. If you tread lightly on the throttle, you can maybe (maybe) achieve the EPA estimated 19 miles per gallon on highway jaunts, but we're willing to bet that the majority of owners will experience something closer to the 14.5 mpg that we recorded during our week-long stint.




Turn off the traction control and you can smoke the rear tires all day long; this engine inspires hooliganism, if only in a straight line. And when you are testing 0-60 and quarter-mile performance times, the large 14.2-inch Brembo brakes with four-piston calipers are a godsend for ultimate stopping power. The brakes aren't touchy, but they never feel soft or like there's a lack of stopping power underfoot, and stomping the pedal will quickly bring the big SRT8 to a halt devoid of unexpected front end chatter. Chrysler says that the 300C SRT8 will do 0-100-0 in just under 17 seconds, and considering its heft, that isn't too bad.

When the road gets twisty, however, the 300C SRT8 loses a lot of its charm. At 196.8 inches long and 74.1 inches wide, the SRT8 is a big sedan, and while the German automakers have done a good job of creating large saloons that aren't exactly slouches in the bends, the Chrysler does flop around when pushed down challenging roads. Its 4,000-plus-pounds are extremely noticeable in these scenarios, and while there's always plenty of power on tap for blasting down country roads, the somewhat floaty suspension and heavy, uninvolving steering do little to inspire driver confidence. There's a noticeable amount of body roll during turns, and while the large 20-inch wheels riding on performance-oriented 245/45 tires do aid in traction and stability during enthusiastic driving, it's still not nearly as good as more nimble $50K sport sedans from our friends across the pond. Even the less-powerful Ford Taurus SHO is a better steer on challenging roads, though we attribute most of that to Ford's use of all-wheel drive and turbocharged power. Sure, the Chrysler will easily pull away from the SHO on straight stretches of road, but the Ford can no doubt carry more speed through a bend. At least the Chrysler's brakes are better, though.





It's best to think of the 300C SRT8 as a four-door Challenger. When you compare the Dodge muscle car to its Ford Mustang and Chevrolet Camaro rivals, it easily takes last place in terms of driving dynamics. Still, the 300C SRT8 is a whole lot of fun on the majority of roads encountered during our test through metropolitan Detroit. The cushy suspension does a good job of softening stretches of broken pavement, and it makes for one hell of a highway cruiser. Images of blasting along I-80 through Nebraska come to mind – double cheeseburgers in hand and Coca-Cola in the cupholder.

The biggest problem is that, at nearly $50,000 ($49,125 for our test car), there are a whole lot of other options that are better buys than the 300C SRT8. As previously mentioned, the Ford Taurus SHO wins in both refinement and driving dynamics, and $50K will get you in to the bottom rung of Audi A6, Mercedes-Benz E-Class and BMW 5 Series territory. Even an Acura TL SH-AWD is a compelling option.



But the one thing Chrysler's 300C SRT8 will always do better? Make you feel naughty for driving one. Because even though it's relatively outdated in terms of overall enthusiastic dynamics, and it makes little sense when you consider the competitive price set, we'd still eagerly drive one if given the opportunity. We love ripping off five-second runs to 60 mph, turning off the traction control and burning away from every stoplight, and most wonderfully, blasting down the highway with the windows down, sunglasses on and loud music coming from the stereo. It's an American sedan that inspires us to get out on the open road, and though we know there are cars that, for an enthusiast, are light years better to drive on involving roads, the 300C SRT8 has enough moxie to make any petrolhead wear a silly grin on his face.