Lexus ES vs Lexus LX570

What's the difference?

There’s no denying the Sport Luxury is imposing, spacious, plush, chock-full of kit, efficient, speedy and pleasingly relaxing up to a point.

But its interior is also dated and true ride comfort can be elusive beyond smooth roads for this top-of-the-line version to make the grade as a proper luxury sedan.  

The ES 300h feels more like an aspirational Toyota than a Lexus for the (wealthier) masses, especially after recent triumphs like the latest NX and RX SUVs. The Camry DNA is difficult to disguise, as the amused strangers who sat in our test car uninvited thinking it was their Camry highlights.

Sure, the hybrid is no Chevy V8, but in many other ways, the Sport Luxury seems like the modern successor to the Holden Caprice experience.

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.

Historically, cars like the ES appeal to an older and more conservative demographic, who value imposing, conspicuously-expensive looking sedans offering the luxury of space. This is the Cadillac model and our Lexus embodies it.

Which is why hire company operators snap such vehicles up. Great for airport-hotel-airport runs.

But it’s weird, given how much of Lexus’ design language is in the ES’ elaborate nose and tail treatments, how generically Toyota this looks. Certainly, our test car’s 'Sonic Quartz' white paint job does not help.

Just to reinforce this perception, two strangers were fully sat inside our unlocked test Lexus before they realised it wasn't their actual car parked nearby – a white Camry of course.

How they laughed. But if I had paid over $80K for my ES, I certainly wouldn't be amused.

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.

The ES 300h may look like a gussied-up Camry on the outside, but there’s very little evidence of the Toyota inside the stretched cabin, with Lexus-specific seating, trim and dashboard.

However, if you’re familiar with the latest LS, NX or RX models, much of what you see is now dated, previous-gen tech, and that’s an issue in some key ways.

Let’s start with the SL positives, though.

Quiet and free from rattles, the interior is defined by its first-class fit and finish, and then closely followed by the vast length inside, with ample room up front to stretch out and relax in. The ES’ substantial width adds to the sense of spaciousness.

Ventilation is excellent, exemplary even, with strong and effective climate control all around the car. Great for very hot days.

The front seats provide practically infinite adjustment in most directions, and include a handy thigh-support extender that – like everything else inside – moves electrically.

Comfy and supportive, they do a fine job. Effective heated and vented cushions and backrests are further bonuses.

But let's call out the hard front headrests. They feel cheap. And the ES’ age now shows in other, eyebrow-raising ways for an $80K-plus machine.

The dash is a messy mix of now-dated Lexus styling cues – from the ugly asymmetrical centre console to the single circular instrumentation dial for speed and tachometer.

The original IS 200's analogue watch face theme was cool in '99. Today's iteration looks basic.

Storage seems poorly judged given the vastness of this sedan, provided for by cavities in the sub-sized centre armrest, glove box and door bins. Note that the latter cannot hold bottles.

Then, there’s the ill-conceived touchpad that requires brain-surgery precision when fingered to navigate the main display screen when driving (though now it's also a touchscreen, and not before time); after years of various iterations of this, it remains alien and confounding in the extreme to operate. Rest assured, it's been banished in newer-gen Lexuses.

Also annoying is the infernal ‘please obey all traffic regulations’ voice warning, just like you find in a Yaris; the limited and easily-flummoxed voice-control tech and the dated and low-fi graphics for the needlessly complicated sat-nav system.

We relied on CarPlay because the in-built item endlessly let us down. Chuck them all out.

However, there are upsides to a dated interior, because even though this is a confusing and at-times intimidating button-fest, it’s still preferable to the today's everything-behind-a-touchscreen mania.

Give us physical switches and buttons every time, like the ES. Yes, the Lexus also has them replicated within the central display, but the point is, the driver has a choice.

You shouldn't be shocked to learn that the Sports Luxury impresses most as a sumptuously comfortable back-seat experience.

Rear access is easy, the passengers can adjust the front seat, climate control and audio systems via handily-sited switches (meaning they're replicated thrice in some instances).

Limo luxury amenities include individually-reclinable and heated outboard seats that are downright sumptuous, blinds for all glass (electric for the rear window), a lined centre bin, face-level air vents, two USB ports, a 12V outlet, generously-sized elbow rests on the doors, overhead lighting and door pockets are also included.

This is tailored as an airport/hotel shuttle and very comfortable doing so.

No folding backrest, though, meaning the boot – though not small at 454 litres – lacks the load-through facilities now common in most other sedans, including the Camry.

Under the flat floor is a space-saver spare with the words ‘SPACE MISER MKIII’ emblazoned across it. Classy.

In summary, the ES’ interior is one of two parts – comfortable but dated up front, invitingly lush out back. Perfect for its intended station in life then.

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.

Doing duty in a cornucopia of Toyota products, the ES 300h’s A25A-FXS engine remains the same as the pre-facelift model, meaning it is a 2487cc (2.5-litre), double overhead cam, 16-valve Atkinson Cycle in-line four-cylinder petrol unit with variable valve timing.

In this application, it makes 131kW of power at 5700rpm and 221Nm of torque between 3600rpm and 5200rpm, and sends that through to the front wheels via an e-Continuously Variable Transmission (CVT) with a sequential shift facility offering artificially stepped 'ratios' for a more-conventional automatic transmission sensation.

A series/parallel full hybrid system, the engine is backed up by a permanent magnet synchronous electric motor, delivering 88kW and 202Nm, and is fed by a tiny 1.6kWh Nickel-metal hydride battery pack.

With only a couple of kilometres of pure-EV driving availability, and only under light throttle or when coasting along, the latter is recharged via the petrol engine as well as recaptured energy from the regenerative braking system. Combined power output is 160kW. No combined torque maximum is stated.

With an impressive power-to-weight ratio of 92kW/tonne, the 1740kg 300h needs 8.9 seconds to reach 100km/h, and maxes out at 180km/h.

To handle all that movement and mass, the steering is an electrically powered rack and pinion set-up, the front suspension consists of MacPherson-style struts and the rear suspension is made up of a multi-link arrangement.

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.

Rated as Euro 6, the ES 300h requires a minimum brew of 95 RON premium unleaded petrol.

But that’s where the bad news stops, because over 626km of all sorts of driving in hot weather with the tri-zone climate control in full workout mode, we averaged an extremely commendable 5.6 litres per 100km. Well done, Lexus.

That’s against the official combined average of 4.8L/100km, which equates to just 109 grams per kilometre of carbon dioxide emissions. Not bad.

With the 50L tank brimmed, expect a real-world range of about 890km – or 1041km using the official average fuel consumption figure.

Either way, the 300h is mighty frugal for a 5.0-metre long and 1.8-tonne luxury machine. But cab and hire companies already knew that from their Camry hybrids, right?

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.

In the right conditions, the ES 300h is a big, squishy, comfy drive. At low speeds, for instance, thanks to an airtight cabin that does a great job isolating its pampered occupants from the outside world.

You cannot hear the car on start-up because the electric motor whirrs this Lexus off the line instantly, silently and effortlessly. And aided by all the surround-view cameras, the steering is light and direct enough to make parking a breeze. Automotive Valium to soothe your weary head after a long day.

Likewise, get the ES out on a smooth motorway and that relaxed feeling remains, with the 300h being right at home as it lopes along quietly and steadily. Cocooned in sumptuous leather and walnut, the adaptive cruise control gently rolling with the ebb and flow of traffic, it’s easy to zone out in here.

Find an empty stretch of road and you might also be impressed at how instantaneous the 300h’s throttle response is, leaping into action and piling on the speed without even breaking a sweat. This thing ain't slow!

Likewise, if you must hurry through a tight set of corners, the Lexus will remain composed and in control, without skipping a beat. Even the brakes seem well tuned and nicely modulated – something that many electrified vehicles struggle to achieve. It’s all so nice and easy.

So, what’s the catch?

First of all, while hushed when pussyfooting around, the illusion of posh sophistication is shattered once the accelerator pedal is prodded down hard, with the accompanying engine noise seeming incongruous.

Perhaps it’s because we’ve been lulled into an electric peace, but once the revs are up, no amount of sound-deadening will quell the mechanical roar.

And it's that same Camry hybrid symphony you've probably heard hundreds of times before, in the back of a taxi hurrying to the airport.

Except in the Lexus, it's far-more muffled. Like you're wearing headphones. 

Then there’s the question of bonding. While the ES 300h will do what’s asked of it capably and without complaint, there is nothing to connect car with driver.

By this, we mean that the steering is remote and feels numb at all times, with little to no feedback. Enthusiasts will search for the short way home. This is the anti-Alfa Giulia - technically a rival.

Most people will not care about that, but on the Sport Luxury’s 18-inch wheel and 235/45R18 tyre package – while modest by today’s standards – the ride quality is less than ideal on anything but smooth roads.

The ES can easily cope with small-frequency surface irritations, but seems to lack sufficient suppleness dealing with larger bumps and pot holes.

There’s an underlying and often unyielding firmness that undermines this car’s luxury aspirations. We’d dial back the taut handling for more cushiness if we could. Or fit a decent set of adaptive dampers.

Plus, the Dunlop Sport Maxx tyres aren’t as quiet as we’d expect on some of our coarser bitumen surfaces.

Comfy on smooth roads, fast when you need it to be, fit enough to go exactly where you point it to without losing composure, and wonderfully economical even when driven like it’s been stolen, the 300h has much to offer from a driving point of view.

But you won’t be aching to drive it just for fun’s sake. And you’ll quickly learn which roads are less than perfect in your neck of the woods.

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.

Here is where Lexus really excels nowadays.

Since the beginning of 2021, it caught up with most other manufacturers by offering a five-year, unlimited kilometre warranty with roadside assistance – up from four-years and 100,000km previously. Free towing and loan vehicles are provided for that period, too.

Service intervals are at 12 months or 15,000km, whichever comes first.

The ES offers three years and 45,000km of capped-price servicing, with each one costing $495 – as well as a free loan vehicle and car wash.

Plus, there’s also Lexus’ ‘Encore’ aftersales subscription program offering myriad offers and services.

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.