Chrysler 300 vs Lexus LX570

What's the difference?

The Chrysler 300 SRT is a big, fast, well-equipped and super-comfortable point-to-point tourer that’s also able to soak up the stresses of a city commute with ease. It’s also showing its age in terms of design, obscenely thirsty, dynamically flawed, and offered with a bottom-of-the-class ownership package. A fun place to visit but make sure you’re ready for permanent residency.

The Lexus is awkwardly big and not very fleet of foot when you're negotiating the commute to work, school or the shops. It slurps fuel at a rate we're not used to seeing these days and it's not the easiest to park, even with all of its cameras and beepers.

The LX is far more at home out on the highway, where it is incredibly comfortable and quiet. One imagines the diesel entry-level model would do it all, but with less consumption. If you must have a V8, the LX 570 without the S might be even more comfortable without the sports dampers.

Either way, it's a lot of car for the suburbs.

The NSW Highway Patrol has adopted the 300 SRT as its weapon of choice, and psychologically I reckon they’re onto a winner.

A high waistline, small glasshouse and big 20-inch rims combine to give the 300 a chunky, take-no-prisoners stance. And this intimidating beast filling the mirrors is enough to make even the most determined speedster drop their bundle.

Except for the SRT badge at the back, the exterior is a chrome-free zone, with black finish on the big honeycomb grille, window frames, and dark chrome wheels dialing up the overall air of menace.

The rear view is similarly imposing, with a large slab of almost right-angular boot lid topped by a pronounced body-colour spoiler.

At this point, we have to call out less than perfect panel fit. On our test car for example the intersection of the bonnet and front clip above the headlights was messy with inconsistent shut lines and poor alignment.

Inside not much has changed over the current 300’s seven years on sale, and the design lacks the integrated approach of more modern competitors.

An 8.4-inch colour media touchscreen sits in the centre of a squared oval panel between the central air vents and under an analogue clock, that shape bearing no resemblance to the form of the heating and ventilation control panel below it or the instrument binnacle alongside.

A mass of buttons confronts the driver across the centre stack, steering wheel and door, while genuine carbon fibre inserts add a racy if slightly ironic touch in a close to 2.0-tonne car.

Leather and suede sports front seats look (and feel) the business, and the strongly illuminated gauges are divided by a 7.0-inch multifunction display including a clear digital speed read-out. Which is just as well, because the fussy increments on the analogue dial are hard to read.

The LX came in for a facelift in 2021, perhaps to differentiate it from its Toyota sibling and, according to the press release, “ its level of urban sophistication.” That kind of tells you where this car is going to spend all of its time, doesn’t it?

There’s the new spindle grille that dominates the nose, with some clever detailing to make it look a bit more sporty and dramatic. Around the car there are modified bumpers, skirts, new wheel designs, all that kind of thing. It does look sportier, but there’s no way to hide the visual bulk of such a big unit.

The interior is largely unchanged and the ruggedness is softened somewhat by semi-anline leather trim and alloy sports pedals. It’s terribly conventional and very usable, but there’s none of the excitement or innovation you'll find in other, more recent Lexus cabins.

At just under 5.1m long, 1.9m wide and close to 1.5m tall the 300 SRT is a sizeable machine, so it’s no surprise there’s plenty of room inside.

Those up front are provided with a pair of cupholders in the centre console (complete with heating or cooling at the press of a button), storage bins and medium-size bottle holders in the doors, a long oddments tray and a small storage cubby (with 12-volt outlet) near the gear shifter, as well as a sunglasses holder in the overhead console and a big glove box.

There’s also a lidded storage box between the seats, complete with sliding tray, two USB ports, an ‘aux-in’ jack and a 12-volt outlet. Even old school nicotine enthusiasts are catered for with an ashtray insert ready to slip into one of the cupholders and a cigarette lighter to drop into the main 12-volt socket.

Rear seat passengers pick up a fold-down centre armrest with two cupholders and a lidded oddments box, decent door bins with bottle holders, as well adjustable vents at the back of the centre console, two USB ports, and switches for the standard heated rear seats.

Sitting behind the driver’s seat set for my 183cm position I had ample legroom but only adequate headroom. There’s enough shoulder room for three adults across the rear, but the broad transmission tunnel throws a spanner in the works when it comes to centre foot room.

The fully-lined boot is nicely trimmed, with a pair of flip-out bag hooks (22kg capacity), load tie-down anchors, and useful lighting included.

Volume is 462 litres, enough to fit our three-piece hard suitcase set (35, 68 and 105 litres) lying flat on the floor, or the CarsGuide pram, with heaps of room to spare. A 60/40 split-folding rear seat adds extra space and flexibility.

In the case of a flat tyre your only option is a repair/inflator kit, and it’s worth noting towing capacity for the SRT is the same 450kg for a braked or unbraked trailer, where the standard V6-powered 300C can tow a 1724kg braked trailer.

Hellooo?! I think there’s an echo in here. This is one giant car, with eight seats available for the keen or foolhardy to squeeze themselves into. If you’ve got all eight deployed, the boot space starts at a reasonable 349 litres. Kick out the three in the back row and flip them up to the sides of the boot and you have 710 litres, although that figure is slightly down on what it could be as the seats don’t stow neatly away under the floor.

Getting the third-row passengers out is a bit of a chore, because the middle row needs a hefty shove to move, while folding the third row jump seats is a power-assisted affair. The middle-seat passenger in the third row is hugely unlikely to be comfortable no matter their size, but the headroom is good anywhere you choose to sit, and the second row has heaps of legroom.

Scattered throughout are cupholders - I counted seven - and you get bottle holders in the doors. All three rows should be reasonably comfortable, with vents supplying climate-controlled air to each and everyone, and the middle row has its own set of controls.

When you’re knocking on the door of $170,000, “good value” is relative. You’ll be pleased to hear, however, that the LX 570 S is properly loaded. You get 21-inch wheels, air suspension, comprehensive multi-terrain modes should you feel the need to get out amongst it, terrain cameras (with under-car view), variable steering, auto LED headlights, auto wipers, powered tailgate, reversing sensors, reversing camera, clearance sensors, sat nav, head-up display, power front seats, four-zone climate control, heated front seats, wireless phone charging, around-view cameras, sunroof, heated steering wheel, and heated outboard seats in the middle row.

The 12.3-inch screen is big but it’s the old Lexus system, controlled by the weird mixture of touchpad and four-way rocker switch. It’s never been a satisfactory control method and the system itself is a little cumbersome, lacking Apple CarPlay and Android Auto.

The kids in the back should be sorted, though, with an 11.6-inch HDMI-input screen on the back of each front seat, and a set of supplied headphones so that, once the kids are plugged in, you can enjoy the 19-speaker Mark Levinson stereo in peace.

Forget hybrid, forget turbos, the Chrysler 300 SRT is powered by 392 cubic-inches of Detroit iron… although the 6.4-litre ‘Apache’ V8 is actually built in Mexico.

The engine’s block is indeed cast iron although the heads are aluminium, with the ‘Hemi’ name derived from its hemispherical combustion chamber design.

It’s naturally aspirated, direct fuel-injected and produces 350kW (470hp) at 6150rpm and no less than 637Nm of torque at 4250rpm.

Drive goes through an eight-speed automatic transmission to the rear wheels with a limited-slip diff standard.

The 5.7-litre petrol V8 is classic Toyota/Lexus, unstressed and unhurried, with 270Kw and 530Nm. All of this is harnessed to an eight-speed automatic and an extremely capable off-road setup that almost nobody who buys this car will ever use.

The LX 570 S will tow up to 3500kg braked and 750kg braked.

A model of fuel efficiency this car is not. Claimed economy for the combined (ADR 81/02 - urban, extra-urban) cycle is 13.0L/100km, the 300 SRT emitting 303g/km of CO2 in the process.

Over roughly 300km of city, suburban and freeway running we recorded 18.5L/100km (at the bowser), and the on-board computer threw up some horrifying short-term numbers as we explored the car’s performance potential.

Minimum fuel requirement is 95 RON premium unleaded and you’ll need 70 litres of it to fill the tank… regularly.

The official combined cycle figure of 14.4L/100km is fairly sobering but the real world is even more so - my time with the LX 570 S yielded an indicated 18.5L/100km, which was not unexpected given I spent a lot of time in urban and suburban driving. I don’t think that figure will come as a surprise to any owner of a 2600kg-plus petrol V8-powered four-wheel drive.

The LX 570 S has twin petrol tanks (93 and 45 litres) for a whopping 138-litre capacity to swallow 95 RON fuel, which, on my figures should deliver 745km between fills.

Roll onto a smooth, dry surface, engage the SRT’s standard launch control function and you’ve dialled in the ability to storm from 0-100km/h in a ludicrously rapid 4.5sec.

Unlike smaller capacity turbo engines, the big atmo Hemi takes a while to develop maximum torque (637Nm), hitting peak pulling power at 4250rpm. Keep the throttle pinned and full power (350kW) is achieved on the cusp of the rev limiter at 6150rpm.

All this fire and fury is accompanied by a beautifully brutal V8 roar courtesy of an active exhaust which tweaks the pulsing note it produces according to drive mode and throttle position. It’s hard not to love it, complete with rude pops and crackles on the over-run.

Beware though, this car is relatively loud all the time, so you’ve got to hope the love affair is a long-term one.

Suspension is by a short and long arm (SLA) and upper A-arms at the front, with a five-link set-up at the rear, and Bilstein adaptive dampers all around.

The switch between Comfort and Sport is swift and marked, with the latter best kept for billiard tables and race circuits. Around town ride in the more compliant setting is agreeably smooth.

Push the big 300 along your favourite backroad and you know you’re asking two tonnes of metal, rubber and glass to move against its will.

The eight-speed auto responds well in manual mode (with wheel-mounted paddles), and the grippy sports front seats do decent job of keeping their occupants stable and balanced, but the sheer mass of this car means you’re never going to get a corner-carving hot hatch-like experience.

And despite a chunky, leather-trimmed sports wheel, the hydraulically-assisted ‘SRT Tuned’ steering isn’t exactly the last word in road feel or sharp response.

Having said that, the fat 20-inch (245/45) Goodyear Eagle F1 rubber grips hard with minimal impact on ride quality, and in a more relaxed mode the SRT is a stress-free and comfortable tourer.

Big acceleration is balanced by big brakes, with beefy ventilated rotors (360mm fr / 350mm rr) clamped by Brembo four-piston calipers front and rear.

The system’s outright power is impressive but can be abrupt on initial application at around town speeds, until you get used to greasing the pedal pressure in.

‘SRT Performance Pages’ allows you to scroll through multiple real-time data screens (timers, G-force, engine performance, etc), which is fun, with outputs downloadable to a USB stick or SD card. The 19-speaker harman/kardon audio system absolutely cranks, and the active cruise control works intuitively, without the frustrating conservatism (taking forever to pick up the throttle) of some other systems

First, some key figures - the LX 570 S is 5.08 metres long, 1.98 metres wide and 1.87 metres tall, depending on the height you’ve set the air suspension. It is Quite Large. Yes, cars like the Mazda CX-9 are as long and the Hyundai Palisade is nearly as tall, but given the LX’s humble origins, it just feels really, really big, and it looks it, too.

That feeling is not helped by oddly heavy and slow steering. The latter quality is a result of its off-roading abilities, but you can’t help but wonder if the variable-ratio steering couldn’t be made a bit quicker for town use. The S in the 570 S also adds sportier dampers front and rear, which do the ride quality few favours. Smooth roads are fine, of course, but concrete roads induce a weird porpoising movement that some air-suspended Land Rovers get, and it’s not particularly pleasant, although if you don’t use one of those roads, you won’t notice.

It's obviously a tricky machine to park and get around tight inner-city back streets. Our narrow suburban street posed a challenge when turning in and out of our narrow driveway with cars parked either side. And I did wonder about the strength of our driveway, given the heft of the LX.

I'm not going to pretend I enjoyed driving the LX, but it’s not bad to drive. You’re always aware of the sheer size and weight of the thing, though, as well as the conspicuous consumption of the very smooth and very agreeable V8. The engine does its best to shift the huge weight and the transmission is beautifully calibrated.

Once you’re on a motorway, progress is quite regal, too, so trips away in the LX will be supremely comfortable, even if you hit the busted-up dirt roads I accidentally ended up on. 

The LX has 10 airbags, ABS, stability and traction control, forward AEB (with pedestrian detection), auto high-beam, lane-departure warning, blind-spot monitoring, rear cross traffic alert and trailer-sway control.

The LX does not have an ANCAP safety rating. Its LandCruiser twin was last tested in 2011, so that’s not exactly relevant, given the huge rule changes and improvements in safety equipment since then.

The warranty world has moved significantly in recent months, and the 300 SRT’s three year/100,000km warranty is now well off the pace.

Yes, it includes corrosion cover and 24-hour roadside assistance, but with the likes of Ford, Holden, Honda, Mazda, and Toyota now at five years/unlimited km, Chrysler is way behind.

Kia moved to seven years/unlimited km in 2014, and there are whispers of the Korean brand shifting to 10 years sooner rather than later.

Service is required every 12 months/12,000km, and no capped price servicing program is currently offered.

With the caveat that labour rates will inevitably vary between dealerships, Chrysler Australia estimates five year standard servicing cost at $2590 (including GST).

Lexus offers what I think is a unique four-year/100,000km warranty along with four years' roadside assist.

Capped-price servicing weighs in at $495 per service, almost $3000 over six services, and you'll be back at the dealer every six months or 10,000km before leaving with a loan car. Or the dealer will come and fetch the car from you and then return it freshly cleaned. Nice.

LX owners also get access to Lexus Encore Platinum . This generous program includes Lexus on Demand (you can book another Lexus - such as an LS or an RC F if you’re feeling racy - four times per year at some airports or dealers) and eight valet parking vouchers for some Westfields and Chadstone in Melbourne, all booked through the Encore app. There’s also a bunch of benefits inherited from the standard Encore program.