Kia Stinger vs Lexus LS

What's the difference?

The Stinger GT-Line is a great machine. It looks good, feels good to drive and while it's not the cheapest large sedan, it's also not a Camry. With a strong European vibe, it's a nice bridge between boring-dependable and out-of-reach European. Boasting a strong link to Europe in its chassis DNA, it has it all apart, maybe, from the badge.

But Kia has a habit of doing unexpected things and the Stinger was a bold move worth making just for the halo effect of having such a cool car in the range. It has done good things for the company's reputation, as though the rest of the range isn't proof already.

The LS500 is the least logical version of the most logical option in the ultimate luxury sedan segment in which logic doesn’t often apply at all. 

Take from that what you will, but if it was me being driven around I would definitely be opting for the hybrid version of the LS instead for its smooth electrified driving characteristics and lower operating costs.

The Stinger looks fantastic. I know the car has its detractors, but there's a massive Euro influence here that sits well in my visual cortex. It's maybe not as ooh-aah as the A5 or the outgoing BMW 4 Series Gran Coupe, but the Stinger can and should be mentioned in the same breath. It looks terrific, even if it is a bit fussier in the details.

From the signature grille, the low beltline, big wheels and sports coupe roofline, it looks sleek and sophisticated. 

Inside is a bit more conventional, with some real classic touches such as circular air vents, conventional-looking gear selector and a flat-bottomed steering wheel. It's cool, clean and, with the big new screen, a bit more techy-looking than before. There are lots of nice materials and the odd rogue one, but it's a good cabin that feels well put-together.

The distinctive but conservative style of Lexus is on full show across the LS’s massive frame. Like other cars in its class, it’s very much the image of the brand itself with styling points strong, but to me not as impressive as the LC500, which is a definitive expression of the brand.

The LS also has many styling points of the previous-generation Lexus design language which are in the process of being phased out.

The car was only updated last year, bringing with it a more recent interpretation of the brand’s big spindle grille, pointy headlight profile, and angular but traditional rear.

The LS - even in this Sports Luxury guise - does look quite menacing from certain angles. The width and stance of this car is accentuated by its curvaceous rear guards and big square front bumper, with the elegance of a classic three-box sedan maintained in a side profile.

The chrome wheel finish is a bit much for my taste, but there’s no doubt they’re real show pieces. They’d better be, too, because I hear they are incredibly expensive should you need to replace one.

The inside has highs and lows but it’s the place where you can most tell the LS has been on sale for a while.

I love the plush seats, big screen, integrated analogue clock and three-dimensional door card design, which sell the flagship luxury feel.

But this car’s age is on show with its clunky and much maligned 'Remote Touch' pad controller (which Lexus is at long last phasing out in its new cars), last-generation software suite, and its small, crowded instrument cluster.

There are a whopping nine interior trim combinations to choose from and ours has the most recently added black leather and ‘Nishijin Haku’ themed highlights which are meant to be inspired by the way "moonlight sits on an open sea".

The feel is a bit '90s, a rough textured fabric with a silver detailing and elements clad in a thin platinum foil, making you feel like you’re in a classic high-class Japanese taxi.

But I’ll admit it plays well with the ambient lighting effect in the doors, and is a unique selling point compared to the standard leather finish.

This is really a four-seater car. While there is good legroom in the rear, the falling roofline, small door aperture and huge transmission tunnel box you in a bit, almost rendering the middle seat useless for all but the shortest of folks. You do get your own air vents, though, which is generous.

The low roof also means limited headroom, made a little worse by the standard sunroof. I had room but taller people might brush the headlining. There are two cupholders front and rear for a total of four and each door has a bottle holder.

The boot is a modest-for-this-size 406 litres, rising to 1114 litres with the seats down. Access to the boot is good if not spectacular; the hatch opens wide but a slightly narrow aperture means loading and stowing flat packs and things like that could be a struggle.

For passengers, as you’d expect, the LS is stellar. The massive outboard rear seats offer plenty of room, and are complete with reclining, message, and cooling functions.

Adjustable vents feature, with quad-zone climate, and the screens come with individual headphone jacks and HDMI-in so you can bring with you all sorts of entertainment options for those longer journeys.

Other suitable additions worth noting include the wine cooler (although it’s a bit small for anything other than minibar-sized beverages, hardly the 007 trope of rolling out a full-size bottle of Bollinger), flip-down mirror with a light in the roof, and the touch panel controls in the armrest. I also appreciate the built-in sunshades. Nice touch.

Less impressive is the general vibe of the middle seat. With a large raised centre split in the floor and such wide and lavish outboard seats, the middle seat feels a bit forgotten.

Up front, the practicality offering includes a high level of adjustability for the seats to suit a wide range of driving positions, electrical adjust even for the steering column, and a nice wide seat which you simply sink into.

Of course, soft finishes adorn even unseen parts of the cabin so you’ll never touch a nasty hard plastic, and there are large storage areas in both the doors and centre console box.

This big armrest console also hides the USB connectivity within, and there’s a set of big cup holders with a flip-away lid if you want the wood grain design uninterrupted when they are not in use.

I have to mention the useless touchpad controller here, but hand the brand props for offering a collection of climate shortcut buttons on the dash, an actual volume knob, and truth be told you don’t need the touchpad anyway because the screen is touch. Just be ready for the matching last-generation software, which isn’t the best to use or navigate.

The boot has a volume of 440 litres which sounds plentiful, but the actual use of it is a reminder of one of the reasons SUVs are so popular.

Yes, it’s big and reasonably deep, but putting the largest CarsGuide case in there proved a bit clumsy as you have to lift it over the tall rear bumper and it only just clears the top of the relatively small opening.

I love sedans, but this is one area where you can see the benefit of a hatch opening, particularly if you were frequently doing the airport run.

The Lexus LS is it, the flagship sedan in the Japanese premium outfit’s line-up. It’s available in two trim levels, either the borderline aggressive F-Sport or plush Sports Luxury.

It’s also available with two drivetrain choices, with no price difference between them. The F-Sport starts from $195,953, before on-roads, while the one we’re testing here, the Sport Luxury starts from $201,078.

This pricing is below par for big luxury sedans designed to be ridden in rather than driven, making it a relatively good-value proposition straight out of the gate.

The entry-level Mercedes-Benz S-Class (the S450) starts from $243,890, the single version of the BMW 7 Series (740i M Sport) starts from $268,900, leaving only the Audi A8 (50TDI) even close when it comes to pricing, which starts from $202,700. We don’t get its Korean rival, the Genesis G90 in Australia yet.

‘Value’ or not, the LS has its work cut out for it, as this particular corner of the executive transport marketplace is probably more about badge cred than it is logic, and the 500 Sports Luxury is at a further disadvantage, as it doesn’t offer the Lexus unique selling point, a silky smooth hybrid system.

Ask yourself, when it comes down to it, if money was no object would you rather have a Grand Seiko or a Rolex?

Again, logic doesn’t apply, but the Lexus does offer pretty much everything buyers in this class should be after.

Inclusions on every LS are 20-inch alloy wheels, adaptive LED headlights, 12.3-inch multimedia touchscreen with Apple CarPlay, Android Auto, and built-in navigation, a 23-speaker Mark Levinson branded audio system, climate control with interesting ‘infra-red body temperature sensors’, heated and cooled front seats with 28-way power adjust, a heated steering wheel, full four-door keyless entry with push-button start, ambient interior lighting, a panoramic view camera, electric motion-sensing boot, radar cruise, and connected services.

Just to remind you this Sport Luxury grade is the one to be driven in, not drive yourself, unlike the F-Sport alternative it scores dual 11.6-inch rear seat entertainment touch panels with HDMI input, full quad-zone climate, power reclining for the rear outboard seats with message functions, a drop-down armrest console with a climate control panel, electric sunshades for the rear three windows, a cooler box, seat ventilation, and two additional airbags for the rear seats. Proper plush. Wish it came with a driver, too.

Things you miss out on for picking this one? Not much, the F-Sport scores a more aggressive dash, an 'LFA-Style' cluster, bolstered front seats, sport steering wheel, variable gear ratio steering with rear steering, high performance brakes, and active stabilisers.

Under the GT-Line's bonnet is Kia's Theta II 2.0-litre four-cylinder turbocharged engine. It's the same as before, with a stout 182kW and 353Nm. Driving the rear wheels is an eight-speed automatic from the Hyundai-Kia empire.

It's pretty rapid, knocking out the 0-100km/h spring in just six seconds, a mere 1.1 seconds slower than its faster sibling's 4.9 for the benchmark.

The LS500 packs a 3.4-litre twin-turbocharged V6 petrol engine with impressive peak outputs of 310kW/600Nm.

This engine is designed to replace a V8 in terms of its power and feel, and in a lot of ways it does.

It might surprise you to learn the only other place you’ll see this engine used in Australia is the Toyota LandCruiser 300 Series.

The alternative present in the LS500h is a hybrid version of the same engine, sans the turbos.

With its electric assistance, power outputs are lower than this turbo version, but get close with a combined total of 264kW.

While I like the walloping nature of the turbocharged V6 we drove, I think the hybrid is a no-brainer choice for reasons explained in the driving segment.

Kia's claimed combined cycle figure is 8.8L/100km. As the Stinger goes without trickery like stop-start or mild hybridness, it's no surprise that my week with it yielded an indicated 10.4L/100km, which isn't bad for a 1750kg sports sedan that was not molly-coddled and also spent some time in a resurgent case of crap traffic in Sydney.

It also drinks standard unleaded, which is a nice touch.

Given the angry sounds emanating from under the bonnet of this LS every time I put my foot on the accelerator, I was surprised to find overall fuel consumption for the week was surprisingly good.

I used the LS to drive mostly around town, and yet it beat its own urban claim of 14.2L/100km, settling at 12.9L.100km, closer to the combined fuel figure of 10L/100km.

The hybrid is said to nearly halve this consumption, and I’m inclined to believe it based on previous experience with Toyota/Lexus hybrid systems. 

The LS500 requires at least 95RON unleaded fuel and has an 82-litre fuel tank. That means you're looking at a range of around 635km, using our real-world figure.

I have driven and loved the Stinger GT. It's tremendous fun, goes like a rat running away from a cut snake, which itself is being chased by a mongoose with its bottom on fire, and it handles like a proper sports sedan.

The GT-Line is obviously not that quick, but it's not slow, either. But it does take a bit of the GT's DNA and delivers a driving experience eerily reminiscent of an E90 BMW 3 Series. That seems like an out-of-date reference, but it was a beautiful car to drive with a lovely balance of ride and handling.

The steering has good feel and you know what's going on underneath the front wheels. You sit towards the centre of the car, also a BMW trademark. Turn the wheel and the car goes with you, despite its bulk, and it's happy to dance a bit with its limited-slip diff.

The 2.0-litre turbo does a good job in most conditions but you feel it coming up short when you're hustling it. It's never breathless, but the torque deficit to the turbo six is clear. If you've not driven the faster Stinger, you may not notice, but there's a touch of lag in the 2.0 that contributes to the idea it's working hard to move the big sedan.

But back off a little and it becomes a fluid, fun drive. In town it's firm but very comfortable, gently bumping rather than crashing into potholes. The rear suspension is a complicated five-link set-up that costs money and eats into boot space but delivers the goods.

Given its length the Stinger is a bit tough to manoeuvre in tight spaces and its 11.2m turning circle isn't too flash either, but you soon get used to it.

For a seemingly very sophisticated car, there’s something decidedly unsophisticated about the way the LS500 feels from behind the wheel.

Immediately, it feels nowhere near as cutting edge or even as special as something like the LC500, which to me becomes the truest expression of everything Lexus.

No, the LS500 in this turbo V6 guise feels a little bit too old-fashioned. It’s quiet and under acceleration feels like a V8 of just a few years ago, but the Aisin-sourced traditional torque converter automatic transmission is, dare I say, ordinary, lacking the finesse of its German rivals. It’s a problem which is easily solved. Pick the hybrid.

Elsewhere the experience is decidedly Lexus. If you’ve driven even an IS the experience is very familiar in the LS. The touchpoints all match, the steering is light and smooth with a healthy serve of electrical assistance, and, for the most part, the ride is as floaty and comfortable as you’d expect.

I say ‘for the most part’ because there are limits to what the LS’s adjustable-height air suspension will filter out on the enormous 20-inch wheels, complete with run-flat tyres.

Small bumps and potholes are dispatched with ease. Anything too large which passes a certain thud-factor will definitely be communicated to the cabin, though, making for a strange all-or-nothing ride quality.

It is impeccably silent inside, though. The engine is distant, even under load, and tyre noise is virtually non-existent thanks to specially designed alloy wheels with hollow chambers designed to minimise this effect. Now that’s more like what I expect from a Lexus.

It handles very well for such a big unit, making it at least decent to drive for the few buyers who will actually take the helm themselves.

This is no land yacht, it’s a surprisingly agile and adept machine when faced with a bit of blacktop. And it's here where the turbocharged V6 comes into its own compared to the hybrid, offering superior driver engagement.

This Sports Luxury version of the LS500 has everything and then some. The usual key highlights are included: high-speed radar based auto emergency braking with pedestrian and cyclist detection as well as intersection assist and fully adaptive cruise control, lane keep assist with lane departure warning, blind spot monitoring with rear cross traffic alert, rear auto braking, traffic sign assist, adaptive headlights, and a panoramic parking camera.

Specific to the Sports Luxury is two additional rear airbags for a total of 12. Despite this thorough suite of equipment, the LS has not been tested by ANCAP.

Kia's ground-breaking seven year/unlimited kilometre warranty along with roadside assist for the first 12 months. Each time you service your car at Kia, you get an extension on your roadside assist for up to eight years.

Perhaps the only thing that makes you go, "Oh, what?" about the Stinger is the 12 months (Good)/10,000km (Oh...) service intervals. That's pretty common with Kia's turbo engines but is a little inconvenient. Then there's the cost - prices range from $312 to $685, which adds up to $3459 over the first seven services. If you stay under 10,000km/year, that's not bad going at under $500 per year for servicing, but if you're a high-miler, it will add up.

The servicing isn't outrageous - and the prices are capped - but it's not cheap, either.

Lexus offers a five-year and unlimited kilometre warranty, and LX buyers get three years of complimentary membership to the brand’s ‘Encore Platinum’ owner experience, which includes three years of capped price servicing, free loan cars at the time of service, invites to events, discounts on fuel at Ampol outlets, and four uses of ‘Lexus On Demand’ which lets owners swap into another Lexus model for up to eight days at a time, as well as eight free uses of valet parking at certain locations.

Servicing on the LS occurs once every 12 months or 15,000km and is fixed for the first three years at $595. Very cheap for the space it plays in.