Luxury Reviews

A few years later a 40W intellect in a 100W socket in the product planning department mused that if people loved the big wagon, surely they would equally love a smaller one — and the quicker they built it the better. From there flowed the plan for then X3 in a bid to sweep up those who found the X5 too big or too expensive, but still desired to have the blue-and-white badge in their garage. The original X3 seemed all that the planners envisaged: It was a little smaller, though not much, and it was a little less expensive, although not much. It was, however, definitely cheap. Developed and produced out-of-house by Magna Steyr Fahrezeugtechnik (MSF), an Austrian company, you couldn't help thinking it could have been so much better with so much more of the BMW "feel" about it. Obviously BMW shared some of those thoughts. With the arrival of the second-generation car some key issues have been addressed. While the exterior make-over is minor - a larger grille, redesigned body-coloured bumpers front and rear, changes to the lights — and just enough differentiation to allow the owner of the latest generation to appear at least slightly superior, it is the interior that really redeems the X3. Gone is the feeling that you have paid a premium price for a utilitarian experience. The new X3 now looks, feels and even smells as a BMW should. A new three-spoke steering wheel, restyled instrument panel, metal door handles, storage spaces and wooden trim — standard across the range — speak of soul, rather than Seoul. A trio of more powerful and economic engines add to the quality of the revised X3. On test we drove only the 3.0-litre diesel (briefly) and the 3.0-litre petrol, missing out on the 2.5-litre petrol — which is the only model to offer the new six-speed manual. Each of the 3.0-litre engines, coupled to a sharp six-speed Steptronic auto, have much to like about them. The diesel would be a more practical choice for the improved off-road activities the X3 is capable of with its new-generation X-Drive all-wheel-drive system. Both its considerable range and strength at low revs would benefit an X3 destined for a bit of sand and dust. Around town the smoother petrol unit has the edge with its (relative) off-the-mark punch and quieter operation. There is the usual grab-bag of electronic intervention and control functions — stability control and traction, dynamic stability control, ABS, dynamic brake control, automatic slip control, cornering brake control, increased braking readiness, fade compensation, dry brake function and hill descent control — to make your experience in the X3 safer and more relaxed. There are also six dual-stage airbags — front, side and curtain. On road performance, never really an issue with the X3, remains better than average for a sports utility vehicle, or sports activity vehicle in BMW-speak. There are the obvious and unavoidable shortcomings of a high-mass, high-ride vehicle — particularly noticeable in tightening corners — but overall the experience is positive. A couple of niggles remain, at least one of which — the absence of power adjustment for the driver's seat — is an obvious cost-saving measure. There is also the matter of the deletion of the i-Drive and shifting most of the useful operations such as radio and navigation to dash-mounted dials. As one who never actually despised i-Drive, I find the new system less convenient, because reaching the fiddly knobs is more difficult and distracting than the centrally-mounted i-Drive control. Closing the tailgate can also cause problems as the only grab-point is a recess on the door, an issue for the vertically challenged.

Then there's its classic race-style mechanical layout and the best technology in the Audi arsenal, including quattro all-wheel-drive. The R8 is beautifully built and has a thumping V8 engine fitted right behind the driver's shoulders that will snap it to 100km/h in 4.6 seconds and on to a top of 301km/h. And yet, to be honest, Ferrari, Porsche and Lamborghini have almost nothing to fear from the R8. As good as it is and as great as it looks, the R8 falls short of supercar pace and does not have the sizzle that is so essential for the meatiest sports car steak. That should be bad news for Audi and a punishing penalty for the R8, but it is not. How? Why? Because Audi hit every target it set for the R8 and is confident its approach, which concentrated on building an everyday sports car and not just a supercar boy's toy, will pay off far more successfully than going all-out against Ferrari and Porsche in a battle it cannot win. "You cannot attack Ferrari. It cannot be done. Just as you cannot attack Harley-Davidson," the head of technical development at Audi's quattro division, Jens Steingraber, says. "We decided to make a daily sports car. Audi is not a brand for exotic cars that are not able to run every day or at a high-quality level. "Nobody has built such a concept for daily use in high quality. The R8 is noisy, but not too loud. You can stay with it and be comfortable and quick. "This is a new German sports car. If you want a car for daily use, to take to play golf or drive for more than 25,000km a year, this is the right choice. "We decided not to make a Ferrari Enzo, but to have a new philosophy. It was a position that was empty and we decided to fill it." But there is something else . . . Audi is part of the same Volkswagen carmaking conglomerate that includes Lamborghini, which meant the R8 was never going to be fully loaded. After all, why would Audi bother to build an R8 supercar if it would end up going head-to-head with the Lamborghini Gallardo in a fight that would hurt both cars and brands? So the R8 is effectively capped by the Gallardo, as even Steingraber admits. "When the Gallardo moves, we can also move," he says. Even so, there is no doubt the R8 is a mover. And a shaker. The press preview in Las Vegas last week rocked a city that is packed with high rollers and superstars, as well as highlighting — on road, track and city streets — that the R8 does most everything pretty well. It is going to be costly, with a price on the far side of $250,000, but Audi Australia has already been overwhelmed with orders and worldwide demand means there will be a waiting list. The cost of the R8 is reflected in everything from its gorgeous alloy skeleton to hand assembly of many parts, a leather-trimmed cabin — with optional Bang & Olufsen sound — and a mechanical package that runs to a 309kW V8 that cranks to 8250 revs with either a six-speed manual or six-speed R-tronic automated sequential manual gearbox. But Audi did take an easy shortcut for the R8, installing the V8 it already uses in the RS4 super sedan. It is very good, but it would have been better by far to take the 383kW V10 used in the Gallardo. If only . . . The R8's suspension is fully independent, as you would expect, but Audi has picked up the same magnetic ride control used in the Ferrari F599, Chevrolet Corvette and the latest HSV Commodore with such stunning success. It also touts a dry-sumped engine layout, a 44:56 weight distribution and a pop-up rear spoiler. But most people are more likely to notice the distinctive LEDs used in the headlights — which will switch from xenon globes to an optional full LED system at the end of the year — and tail-lights. Golfers will appreciate luggage space that includes room for two bags behind the twin sports bucket seats. Customers can choose a carbon-fibre "sideblade" and a carbon dress-up package for the engine bay, which is also available with a separate lighting package. Audi Australia is still working on the price and specification for the R8, but the equipment is expected to run to the magnetic-ride suspension and 19-inch alloy wheels, as well as both transmission choices. "The price will be closer to $250,000 than $300,000. We expect most of the cars for Australia will be manuals," Audi Australia spokeswoman Anna Burgdorf says. "We have sold 32 cars and we think our allocation will be 60 cars a year." That means only three days' production at Audi's Neckarsulm factory, which has been set for a lot of hand-finishing work on everything from the Audi space-frame chassis — which cuts the weight of the body shell to 210kg — to ensure the best quality because it builds only 20 cars a day. Steingraber says: "This is an elite car. It is the peak. It demonstrates that Audi can do this car and the customer can believe in Audi at that range." ON THE ROAD THE first few minutes in the R8 are same-same, but different. The flat-bottom steering wheel and a lot of the switches are familiar from the Audi RS4 and so is the engine, though it is more muted inside and more grumpy outside. The final finishing work is up to the usual Audi standard. But the R8 has supercar looks that hit you hard as you approach and draw more admiring looks than anything that has worn an Audi badge. Every R8 tester in Las Vegas wanted to put the pedal to the floor, but there was frustration for the first 90 minutes because nanny speed limits and road works reduced all running to a 90km/h convoy behind a Q7 four-wheel drive. It was like running the first four hours of the Le Mans 24-hour race with full-course yellow flags, when the only danger is the drivers falling asleep . . . so we quickly found the flaws. The seats are a touch too high, because they need clearance for electric motors; the automated manual shift is set the "wrong" and non-sporty way, to match the rest of the Audi range; and our first test car, an automated manual with magnetic ride suspension, had a tappet rattle in the engine. But then the road cleared, the limits rose and it was time to go for it in the R8. And what a go. The R8 is taut and responsive, yet still comfortable and refined. It copes easily with humps and bumps and the sound system is great. The steering has great feel, the quattro drive provides great grip and the engine . . . well, the engine is good but not great. It is a riot in the RS4 but cannot give the R8 the sort of punch and presence to rival a V8 Ferrari or V10 Lamborghini. Switch the engine and transmission settings to "sport" and it thumps through the gears and gets along quickly, but it does not have the scream or sharpness of a supercar. It is just as Audi says, a sports car but not a supercar. A long way beyond the TT coupe and yet . . . Running back towards town after a brisk blast through the desert, the R8 becomes a nice freeway cruise and, after switching to a six-speed manual car — with a great, involving shift and terrific-looking alloy shift gate — it also made easy work of Las Vegas commuter traffic. The clutch is light, visibility is good, the engine does not grump or run rough and it would be fine for any real-world nine-to-five work. The R8 is a high-end sports car that will satisfy most drivers without compromising everyday driving. It is more than fast enough to snap your neck from the lights and blast past slow-moving traffic, but it is not the ultimate. It is naughty, but not nasty. It will probably be shopped against a Porsche and, even though it is less responsive and involving, a lot of people will go for the R8's brilliant looks and its easy driving. It will satisfy them without challenging them, which is just what Audi wants. ON THE TRACK THE R8 comes alive on a closed road course. That is when you can run it right to the redline, push the limit in curves and really feel the good work that has gone into the Audi. Audi set up a short course on the Las Vegas Raceway infield, where Marcos Ambrose was running his Nascar on the oval this week, and put no limits on the same R8s that had run through the road loop earlier in the preview day. Their new star came on strong as the V8 engine was run right to the redline and proved it can deliver the numbers and the response its owners will want. It still doesn't have the sound or top-end thrust of an Italian exotic, but it is very good. The launch control in the "manu-matic" kicks in from the line and the paddle-shift change is sharp. The manual gearbox has a direct, metallic shift, which suits the look and feel of the R8 . The chassis is a little dull and has too much push at the nose, but the brakes — optional ceramic discs on most cars — are brilliant and the car is more than quick enough for most drivers. I enjoyed the chance to push the limit and even stepped over the edge after switching from a tied-down magnetic ride car to a slightly softer car with regular suspension. The scuffs from the witches hats were easy to buff away . . . but the R8 did not have me drooling or dreaming about extra laps. It is a sharp road car but does not feel like a racer. At the end of a long and varied day, the R8 had delivered on all of Audi's promises — except one. For all its strengths, the body itself over-promises a supercar package that is not delivered. The R8 looks to be a road racer that should throw out a direct German challenge to Ferrari and Lamborghini, but it does not.

For then, we could be shipped, in a blink, to a German autobahn with no speed limit or an Italian autostrada where few obey the 150km/h signs. At 110km/h you have only just opened the Bentley’s performance envelope of 411kW of power and 650Nm of torque. Its six-litre W12 engine with twin turbochargers is good for a 0-100km/h time of 4.8secs and a top speed of 312km/h The Continental GT indeed lives up to its name. This is a high-speed cruiser designed to traverse Europe or America in comfort. It would do an equally great job here in Australia, too, if the relatively restrictive speed limits and thirsty fuel consumption failed to faze you. How thirsty? Weighing a hefty 2385kg (about the same as two Mazda MX-5s), the big Bentley returns about 17 litres/100km. But this is of little consequence when you slide behind the wheel, for the interior is an unparalleled fusion of modern style, traditional craftsmanship and Bentley detailing. Fire up the W12 (effectively twoV6s spliced together) and not even a near 2.4 tonnes can smother the acceleration which presses you back into the plush leather seat with serious intent. But the $379,000 (new, plus costs) Continental GT is not just a car built for straight lines. On open, flowing corners, its all-wheel-drive produces grip levels that belie a car of this size. This was borne out tackling the agricultural back roads west of the city. Here was an opportunity to snick the six-speed automatic transmission into Sport and shuffle up and down the gears by flicking the steering wheelmounted shift paddles. The Bentley adjusted without complaint from grand tourer to sports car, but on tighter corners, you were instantly reminded by the law of physics that this was one big car. The GT was up to stopping without fuss, but then it does have the largest brake disc of any production car at 405mm on the front and 335mm at the rear. My only moan about the Bentley was the weight of the driver side door. Opening it on a slight incline required a hurculean effort to get out. But then, this is a car where someone would usually open the door for you. Is it not?

Sure, he might admit he’d made her a little overstuffed in the lip department the first time around and tone that area down to something more recognisably human, but otherwise there wouldn’t be a lot of tweaking required. Improving on perfection isn’t easy, even for God, so spare a thought for the poor pencil pushers at Audi who were asked to redesign the TT. This car was groundbreaking when it arrived, back in 1998, was then awarded the highest form of praise by other companies as they tried to copy it (check out the roofline on a Nissan 350Z, for example) and still – today – looks futuristically cool. In fact, it looks like some oversized rollerskate from that excellent movie, Tron. I imagine a series of meetings with the red-eyed designers turning up time after time with a car that looked pretty much exactly like the old TT. “Seriously, we changed the colour of the indicator reflectors – it’s a totally new car,” they would plead. Actually hacking into those fluid lines to come up with something quite markedly different must have felt like sacrilege. The first few times I saw the new shape I got angry. Why on earth would anyone mess with a one-off like the TT? Why didn’t they just start again and call it something else? But after a week of intimate time with one, I must admit I’ve done a backflip of Olympic, or even Politician standard. The new TT isn’t as attractive as the old one, but viewed in isolation, it’s still a pretty sharp, hawk-beaked looking vehicle. My neighbour even described it as being “a bit too porn star” for her taste, so it’s not exactly a sleeper. It’s derivative without being damaging to the original concept and it grows on you. It may yet be seen as a classic in its own right, but that will have more to do with the way it drives than how it looks. The one area where the designers definitely got it wrong, however, is the interior. As good as the old TT looked from the outside, my favourite feature was always the cockpit, which just felt – and looked – special. It was the shiny, garage-door style cover for the stereo that topped it off, but generally there was a sense that the interior had been designed to reflect the exterior. And it worked. The new car is merely another Audi inside, with plenty of nice-feeling plastics but no character or pizzazz – with the obvious exception of the flat-bottomed steering wheel, which is a thing of boy-racer beauty. Luckily the TT has so much character elsewhere that you’re entirely willing to overlook the innards. Because, while we can debate over whether the look of the new car has matched the old one, the new TT is a far, far better thing to drive. It is one of those cars where you just know, in the first five minutes in a heavily trafficked 60km/h zone, it’s going to be special. It has a taut, on-its-toes feel for the road. Muscular, meaty steering – at last – and an exhaust note that is as different from its forebear as Kylie Minogue is from Ozzy Osbourne. The old TT had a pleasant enough rasp to it, while the new one blows raspberries at rasping and gives out an angry, howling growl, which is at its best on the over-run and when running from the horizon. On a favourite bit of road, the new TT put on a display of corner-biting, scenery blurring genuine sports-car behaviour. It handled and went and stopped like, well, almost like certain other brands that Audi just never competed with before, in such a serious way. The old TT was fun enough, but it always felt like swinging a slick, aluminium baseball bat compared with a fine piece of willow, or a sword. Driving the new one gets your pulse racing the way looking at the old one did. Impressively, the model we were driving was merely the base model, powered by a 2.0-litre turbo FSI engine with 147kW, good for a 0 to 100km/h time of 6.4 seconds. Even the fact that the engine only drove the front wheels wasn’t as annoying as it should be. And I just have to mention the steering again. Not usually an Audi strong point – they more favour the light approach than the premium lager – it really does the business here, connecting you with the road at broadband speeds. So, with the inherited looks of the old TT, but a good 30 per cent more fun, this new Audi is one of the company’s best efforts ever. Even a pricetag of $68,900 starts to look like reasonable value. Most people will spend $72,500 instead and get the S-tronic flappy paddle auto box. The fools. I’ll admit I’m keen to try the top-line V6 quattro version, for $88,900, not so much for the 3.2-litre V6 engine (reportedly it weighs the nose down too much and takes some of the free spirit away), but for the all-wheel-drive gripfest – and the 0 to 100km/h time of 5.7 seconds sounds like fun, too.

No point in spoiling his day — noblesse oblige and all that. After all, this is a Mercedes wherein the satisfaction lies in knowing with certainty that you could have if you really wanted to. As menacing as the black E-Class looks in all its AMG livery, this remains a luxury sedan — a very focused and purposeful one. AMG enjoys a reputation as wizards to the wealthy — in a league with BMW's revered M division. Both are producers of gilt-edged performance machinery for the well-heeled. Previously reliant on the instant gratification of force-fed urge, the latest generation of the AMG cars display a more rounded character. With the shift in philosophy away from superchargers, AMG has moved to creating its own bespoke engine — a naturally aspirated V8 with a capacity of 6.208 litres (they like to call it a 6.3, possibly because the badges look cooler) and an output ranging from 386kW to 354kW depending on model, all at 6800rpm. The torque figures are also constant at 630Nm at 5200rpm. For the E Class the change away from the 5.4-litre powerplant equals an increase in power to 378kW but a drop of 69Nm in torque from 700Nm; more top end but with less punch to get there. More than the actual figures, the nature of the engine determines how different the two models are to drive. City cruising and open-road driving show that this is a car of different character. The 63 is much smoother in its power delivery, minus the back-slapping arrival of piles of torque as the supercharger gets busy. The E63 demands a more determined mindset, unlike the old supercharged models, when a brush of the throttle set the tone. Getting the best out of the 6.3 demands a more positive and smooth approach, with firm application of the throttle and intelligent choice of gears rewarded. Kept on the move with the engine sitting above 4000rpm, the 63 is a willing worker. Using the paddle shifts for the seven-speed box adds another element to the experience, but the truth is that the ratios and shift points are so well-sorted in full automatic that 90 per cent of the time it is as effective to allow the car to choose. With its semi-active air suspension the E63 can be set to one of three ride heights from boulevarde cruising to track attack. In any mode the E63 is a delight to drive. Tip the car into a corner and the reaction is immediate. The grip from the front end is huge, feedback communicative and general balance quite superb. Ride quality, for what can be a genuine track-day warrior, is at the upper end of the scale while interior comfort is everything you would expect from a luxury manufacturer asking you for $227,600 for a basic package. Over and above the E Class safety and comfort items — a full spectrum of electronic minders, airbags everywhere, sunroof, digital TV, concert-quality sound, satnav and four-zone climate control — the E63 has plenty of AMG-specific kit. The sport seats with multiple electronic adjustment are superb when you work out all the possible permutations; the composite front brakes add another level to the safety package while the AMG instrument cluster and quad exhausts spice up the package. The test car was also fitted with the optional distronic cruise control ($6590) and Bi-Xenon active headlights ($1440). The distronic system, while not unique, is clever and useful. In effect, it is a radar unit fitted behind the grille, which acts in concert with the cruise control to lock on to a car in front and maintain a pre-set separation, braking or accelerating as necessary.

But the Allroad never had the great size, voluminous interior and elevated driving position which affluent suburbanites in Australia and America prefer in this sort of SUV. Given that the Yanks are the world's most powerful and influential consumers of these vehicles, the German marque had little choice but to defer. The Q7 is late on the scene with its most obvious rivals, the American-built Mercedes-Benz M-Class and BMW X5, now into their second generations. Yet it could have been much worse. Once the consequences of its mistake became apparent, Audi managed to secure an SUV platform from parent Volkswagen and project partner Porsche. Then, as if to prove a point, it created a bigger vehicle than either the Touareg or Cayenne, which all roll down the same production line in Bratislava. Just as there were accusations early on that Porsche and Volkswagen had lowered their standards in the pursuit of US market penetration — based largely on poor quality survey results and a couple of embarrassing recalls — the Q7 has also suffered from a disappointing four-star Euro NCAP crash-test result. This is a rung below the standard expected in this class. In 2004 the Touareg scored a maximum five stars. Judging from the Q7 order bank in Australia, that controversial crash test — which forced Audi to take corrective action — and other extraneous factors such as rising interest rates and higher fuel prices have not dented sales. And little wonder. While the vehicle fails to break new ground in this segment, the Q7 is a strong alternative to its main rivals — including the class-leading X5 — with a powerful road presence, luxurious appointments, quiet and cavernous cabin, a third-row option and, in the TDI model tested here, a marvellous V6 common-rail turbo-diesel. A bit more powerful than the version used in the Touareg, the Q7's 3.0-litre TDI produces 171kW at 4000rpm and 500Nm from 1750-2750rpm. The engine's diesel origins will be obvious to those outside the vehicle, but for those within it manifests a quiet, smooth and flexible nature that has no trouble with the 2.3-tonne kerb weight and never leaves the driver aching for more acceleration or responsiveness. In this regard, the six-speed automatic transmission works in wonderful concert with the engine, shifting gears with smoothness and cleverness in accordance with driver demands and the prevailing road conditions. There is also the means for gear shifting in a sequential-manual fashion, although the diesel's muscle at low and medium revs tends to negate the need for it. The Q7 is not as lean on fuel consumption as its government rating indicates, returning 12.3 litres per 100km across our test. But, like the NCAP result, this is probably not a figure that will terminate a prospective sale. Indeed, this is true for most facets of the Q7. Not a new breed of prestige-sports SUV as Audi would have us believe, the Q7 still proves to be a competent, composed and well-rounded vehicle. It is a cinch to manoeuvre around shopping centres, effortless to drive on the open road, undisturbed across broken bitumen and controlled around corners. A monocoque construction with independent double-wishbone suspension front and rear, the Q7 does not feel as sporting to drive in standard form as the Allroad or X5 — the value of which is disputable in a high-riding, two-tonne SUV — but it does feel stable and secure in most situations. It keeps a level head during quick directional changes and, with the combined efforts of Audi's Quattro permanent 4WD and 255/55 18-inch Bridgestones, maintains a great deal of adhesion to the road. It also has accurate steering, and all-wheel disc brakes offering outstanding resistance to fade. Things come undone a bit in accordance with deteriorating road conditions. On corrugated dirt and gravel, the Q7's electronic traction nannies become intrusive, cutting power and braking (and emitting a horrible noise) in the quest to maintain control. A less-than-impressive emergency-braking exhibition on loose gravel and sand also brings into question ABS calibration for dirt roads. Off-road, the confidence the vehicle exudes on bitumen erodes further. Short overhangs, decent ground clearance and a full-size spare wheel on the five-seat model are all beneficial, but the braking assistance offered with the ESP-related off-road mode provides nowhere near enough control, often forcing the driver to take corrective action. Up steep gravel inclines the Bridgestones can struggle to maintain traction, while the parking assistance system goes berserk when it detects wheel ruts or even long grass. It can be turned off, but re-engages of its own accord whenever the driver selects reverse. For all the attention to detail and hi-tech gadgets and passenger comfort that Audi has built into the Q7, the interior also has some drawbacks. For instance, the TDI driver must contend with a foot-operated park brake (which did not disengage properly on our test car), an unconventional high-mounted ignition slot on the left-hand side of the steering wheel and, worst of all, distracting reflections on both exterior mirrors from the chrome-look trim surrounding the dashboard air-vents. There is no electric front seat adjustment, no lumbar support and no rear-seat automatic seatbelt locking retractors for securing child restraints properly. If the optional panoramic sunroof is fitted, there's a sense of never being able to escape a blazing sun (despite perforated blinds). The optional electric tailgate is convenient and detects obstacles, but can also cause minor injuries before grinding to a halt. Accommodation and amenities are excellent in the front and rear passenger compartments, and further astern in the five-seat version there is more than enough luggage room. The floor-mounted guide rails and attachments in the cargo area are also useful, although the flimsy "telescopic retention bar" left something to be desired. Again, irritations like these are unlikely to halt the Q7 queue. Standard TDI features include a reverse-parking camera, dual-zone climate-control, a beaut 11-speaker stereo, eight airbags, leather trim and Audi's MMI computer interface. Combine these with the requisite size and looks, a splendid engine and an $85,700 asking price, and Audi has at last got itself a sure-fire SUV success. Even with an all-new Allroad coming soon, "all roads" now lead to the Q7.

Yet, to me, it has lots of appeal. Very much, in fact, like the Nissan Maxima. This sedan also has all the right ingredients, follows a proven recipe and is served up in a pretty package. So why doesn't it get eaten up by a hungry audience? Nissan's 3.5-litre V6, the successor to the award-winning three-litre version, is a delightful power plant in the Maxima. It's so good, in fact, that in various states of tune it also does duty in the 350Z and the Murano. In the latest Maxima, it's mated to a continuously variable transmission that is so simple it has no gears. Basically, it consists of a steel belt sliding up and down two cones, one driven by the engine and the other connected to the wheels. For the driver, upchanges are seamless and quiet. If needed, there's a locking mechanism to retain six specific ratios to make the engine less stressed when towing or climbing steep slopes. The suspension package of this big front-wheel-drive sedan is also simple, though in handling and ride comfort it's highly effective. The Maxima, the biggest sedan Nissan sells in Australia, offers comfortable seating for five adults and a very accommodating boot. Styling is distinctive and functional, although to some the sweeping roof and hard-edged grille are a bit aggressive. Few would criticise the cabin. In the top-line Ti model tested, the interior is leather-trimmed and neatly styled. The dashboard is simple yet effective. There's that word again. In fact, go over the Maxima and everything appears to be well thought out. It all works simply, reliably and, yes, effectively. But it's not perfect. The foot-operated parking brake doesn't match the user-friendly characteristics of the rest of the car. Nor is there a fold-down rear seat, which limits the Maxima's versatility. I recognise that such seats are becoming like the dodo, but there's no denying they're a bonus. To cart long, skinny items, however, there's a flip-down access port under the rear seat's armrest. The Ti variant comes with a vast feature list including rear park sensors, dual-zone climate air-conditioning with extra vents in the rear, cruise control, six airbags and a six-disc CD stacker. Safety features include ABS brakes, electronic stability control, seat-belt pretensioners and five lap-sash belts. In fact, even the base ST-L model has this safety list. On the road, the Maxima is quiet, refined and smooth. Pushed hard, it reveals understeer that is typical of most front-wheel-drive sedans. Thanks to a rigid body and stability control, however, it's a composed and predictable car. The CVT is responsible for its excellent fuel economy and for the secondary benefit of keeping the engine at relatively low revs. Potentially, this indicates the engine will have a long and stress-free life. The price is right, the features are tops and the comfort is excellent. All better than a Chiko roll, in fact.

Even sans options, it's still painfully expensive for what is, after all, a fairly underwhelming four-cylinder mid-size car. Indeed, the entry-level 3 Series rivals Mercedes-Benz's C180 as the quintessential try-hard hard car — the one for prestige aspirants whose dough can't go to a model equipped with one of the Bavarian's legendary straight sixes. The 320d is so far departed from this that it deserves a more drastic differentiation than that implied by "d" for diesel. The 2-litre four-cylinder DOHC unit features the latest generation high-pressure common rail electronic injection and computer-controlled variable geometry turbocharger. Unlike the horrid 120d hatch with which it shares this powertrain, the 3Series diesel is stuffed with sufficient sound-absorbing materials to render quibbles about diesel clatter irrelevant at any RPM except idle. And unlike the "other" 320, the "d" can be a responsive performer. Driven through a six-speed Steptronic automatic, it reaches 100km/h from standing in a claimed 8.9 seconds, almost a second faster than its self-shifting petrol counterpart. With all of the diesel's 115kW and 330Nm being yours from 2000rpm, it packs a near knockout mid-range punch to back its off the line jab. Even without the $600 optional sports suspension (one extras box worth ticking), the 320d is a clarity reinforcer as to why a well-set-up rear-wheel-drive remains the enthusiast's choice. Which is also why, in this case, "d" stands for dilemma as much as diesel. While fuel frugality and thus practicality are supposed to be the compelling factors behind the diesel choice — try 7.3 litres per 100km over a week of urban driving — the 320d provides a real reason to look askance at a petrol six. Or the lesser of them at least. The 323i hosts a disappointingly detuned version of BMW's 2.5 straight six — the full whack of which is to be found in the 325i and 525i. But with a mere 130kW/230Nm to shift a kerb weight comparable to the 320d, this six is no quicker as an auto and can't go within a bull's roar of the diesel's distance between refills. It also starts at $11K more, a vast ask when you're already stretching the bucks beyond breaking simply to be seen in a car with a blue and white roundel. Both models, though, are afflicted with the same 16-inch run-flat rubber. While ride is less of an issue in its latest generation, the expense and dubious utility of run-flats remain reasons that mitigate mightily against choosing a BMW. It's absurd that the marque is so married to these things that it won't at least offer the option of conventional tyres and some kind of spare. A base 320d starts at a cool $56,700. Ours came with that woodgrain stuff, adjustable centre armrest, sunroof and metallic paint (an outrageous $1600 on its ownsome) to comprise a chilling $62,220. The 320d Executive starts from $61,500, so dabbling in its option list will send the driveaway price north of $70K before you can say "sheer driving pleasure". At least the 320d delivers more of this than the petrol four or base six. Indeed, if the 320i screams wannabe, the 320d bespeaks an informed choice. Even so, it can't transcend the mindset necessary to purchase any "affordable" prestige car — you have to not much care that you're not getting that much car.

As part of its box of tricks, the Honda Legend has a system called active noise control, which works in the same way as the plane headphones. It's designed to cancel out low-frequency booming in the interior and works independently of the stereo. But despite repeatedly switching it on and off, we could not tell the difference. It certainly sounded like a great idea and the Legend is full of them. Although most are not new, the result is an unconventional large luxury car with an amalgam of influences. It bears the hallmarks of being created for the US market but is unmistakably a Honda. That's obvious almost immediately from what's under the bonnet. Honda may be the world's largest engine maker, but it doesn't make big engines. At least, not yet. Only one powerplant is offered: a 3.5-litre V6 driving through a five-speed automatic. That's two cylinders and one ratio short of what many will consider the norm for a large luxury conveyance. It's a glorious engine, though, with a smooth, silky touch for the urban commute. Press on, and it has the Honda quality of delivering its best high in the rev range — and keeps getting better the higher you go. In doing so, it goes from imperceptibly quiet to potently racy without a hint of exertion. However, this engine lacks the low-rev torque that most will identify with luxury motoring and below 4000rpm there's a decided absence of punch. It can feel sluggish off the mark, overtaking requires a run-up and along tight and twisty roads, it's hard to keep the engine on the boil. A wide spread of ratios in the five-speed automatic, with a big gap between third and fourth, doesn't help. On the positive side, the auto hangs on to the chosen gear at the redline and will accept downshifts high in the rev range with a slight lift off the throttle. Sensibly, the shifter allows fourth and fifth to be locked out and steering wheel paddles are also a plus. One innovation unique to this car is its four-wheel drive system, which adjusts torque loads under hard cornering to help the car turn more effectively. In particular, it allows the outside rear wheel to turn faster, helping to negate understeer — the tendency to run wide in a corner. It gives the Legend more dynamic ability than you might expect given its length — nearly 5m — and a kerbweight approaching 1.9 tonnes. The brakes held up well on a twisty run down into a NSW gorge and while they don't have the greatest pedal feel they were a class above the tiller for intimacy. There's an indirect and artificial quality to the steering that makes it easy to overcorrect lane-keeping on freeways, for example. On smooth surfaces the ride quality stays good, although rougher roads give it a fidgety edge that the best luxury cars avoid, and the tyres can be heard coping with coarse or broken tarmac. The interior is welcoming with leather generously applied and the stepped dash design has a tier of woodgrain. Cabin space cannot match that in locally built large cars and the angle of the side glass means the roof could encroach a little on headroom. That said, four large adults are unlikely to feel cramped. The situation is similar in the boot, which with 452 litres capacity falls short of locally built premium models but is fairly capacious nonetheless. A ski-hatch and tie-downs help compensate for a floor that isn't flat. Underneath a space-saver serves as spare. Despite the visibly pleasing seat contours, we had sore legs after one five-hour stint in the saddle and came away feeling there was a slight compromise in the driving position. Certainly, there are some issues with forward visibility. The length of the bonnet is impossible to gauge and the A-pillars could have been designed to obscure traffic approaching from left or right at a T-junction or roundabout. The wing mirrors are excellent, though. The controls are a little scattered, but there's logic in their placement. The hardest ones to find quickly are those grouped together on the small centre-console — although steering wheel buttons more than compensate. In common with a lot of new cars, there are too many little information screens, all of which differ in terms of typeface, resolution and layout. A rotary knob very reminiscent of BMW's iDrive is used to navigate through menus and with a relatively modest number of functions, it's reasonably easy to get around although it means changing the fan speed, for example, becomes a multi-button procedure. Another reminder of Munich came in the shape of the interior door handles; as in the 5 Series, they are too close to the hinge for easy leverage and strain visibly when closing the front doors. With only one model priced at $74,500, the Legend comes well-equipped with leather, active headlamps with light sensor, foglights, rear parking camera, power heated front seats, dual zone climate control, cruise, sunroof, auto wipers, and side and rear sunshades. Safety equipment includes six airbags — rear passengers miss side bags — stability control and a pop-up bonnet, similar to the one which debuted recently on the Jaguar XK, to lift pedestrians clear of hard engine surfaces in the event of a collision. With so much gear it would be churlish to grumble, but we did miss a lane-change blinker function, mute button for the stereo and, in particular, parking radar for the unguessable front — although the rear camera is an aid to reversing. A compass and GPS display compensate a little for the lack of satnav. Getting the Legend on to the Australian market has already taken some time, with some US buyers now several years into ownership. Its stateside priorities are evident in its bland and derivative big-car design, which lacks the sharp style of the Honda Euro, say. Another tell-tale of the car's stateside priorities is the foot-operated parking brake — very much an American device. In the US the Legend is sold under Honda's premium Acura badge — the equivalent of Toyota's Lexus — and as you would expect, it feels thoroughly well-engineered and built. It also seems like a lot of car for the money, not least because the new model is substantially cheaper than the one deleted two years ago. Not even Honda expects it to have widespread appeal here — in many ways, it runs counter to Australian notions of what a large luxury car should be. Buyers who go in with their eyes open will get a unique take on the segment.

Driving Audi's TT exudes style, luxury and performance, in a cute, elegant, little package. We first met the TT in Melbourne on its Australian launch at the end of 2006 and it was one memorable rendezvous, stretching her legs on Phillip Island Racetrack. Here we saw she could handle her own at speeds of up to 200km/h. But this time, the base model TT got to spend some time in our garage and prove she's more than just a sporty car. She's one that can handle busy Sydney roads as well. Equipped with a 2.0-litre, four-cylinder, turbo engine, the entry level TT is priced at $68,900. Ours came with extra touches such as fine Nappa leather upholstery for $800, storage package, $400, and Audi's magnetic ride for an extra $3000. The turbo TT has much to offer and is reasonably priced for its segment. From the word go, the turbo TT responds. You ask it a question with the accelerator and it answers with an impressive growl. Constantly working hard, the turbo dazzles you with its charm even at cruising. It won't stop there, digging deeper when you reach higher up the tacho. Its 280Nm of torque comes on as low as 1800rpm, remaining strong through to 5000rpm. In terms of power, there's 147kW at 5100rpm to 6000rpm. The front-wheel-drive TT races 0-100km per hour in 6.6 seconds, in the six-speed manual guise. Now that's not going to break any records, but it will give you an enjoyable ride, accentuated by her low sportscar dynamics. The ride is bumpy and gets too firm at lower revs, more so when you or your passenger find that sport suspension button near the gearstick. It makes sure you feel every pot hole in the road, yet it ensures better handling around corners, providing greater control and minimising body motion. Once your foot's on the throttle and you give it decent oomph, the TT excels. She's economical to run with fuel consumption figures of 7.8-litres per 100km on our test. It comes with impractical rear seats, unless you only intend to transport children under 10. A trip into the city with an adult seated in the back provided comic relief for those in the front, but not so much for the unfortunate soul testing out her contortionist-like moves. With a hunched back and crooked neck, it was an uncomfortable ride. In terms of design, the TT has the stunning looks from when it first came onto the market in 1998. But other brands seem to have caught up with the futuristic-like appeal of the Alfa Brera, Nissan 350Z and other offerings from the likes of BMW and Mercedes. The TT possesses typical Audi character and class but with some enhanced styling changes, including a longer, wider body. The roof has been repositioned further to the rear. Because of lighter aluminium technology called the Audi Space Frame, the TT is lighter than its predecessor. A small spoiler that is activated when reaching 120km/h automatically or by the touch of a button, adds to the sporty appeal and enhances performance by increasing negative lift at the rear wheels. The design, influenced by the Bauhaus style of the 1920s, is sexy with its glamorous appearance, eight years after we first saw it. While the inside may be uncomfortable for the back passenger, those in the front will enjoy comfort, luxury and sophistication. The circle theme of the brand is accentuated on the air vents, air conditioning and radio knobs, and the speedo and tacho. Silver trim adds a contrast on the black console, as you slide into the side-hugging leather seats. With a high window line starting above your shoulder, low ceiling, snug environment and a racing steering wheel with a flat bottom, like that in the RS4, there's no doubt you'll feel low and sporty in the TT. But there are some things that could be improved, such as a spare tyre as standard. Instead it gets a tyre mobility system, an aerosol can of goo that repairs any damage. And it doesn't have a great deal of boot space, although, as one passenger said: "At least it had more space than the back seat." Caution is needed in car parks, with typical coupe long doors. And when in underground car parks with low roofs, be extra careful when opening the boot.