Lexus LS vs Lexus RX350L

What's the difference?

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.

Lexus has seemingly added two extra seats to its RX range without any design or dynamic drawbacks. If you're a fan of the five-seat car, there's little doubt you'll be a fan of this one, too. 

What it will come down to, though, is how often you use the third row of seats, and how big the humans that will be sitting in them in are. If they're for kids or for occasional use, the space will be ample. But if your child has undergone a Tom Hanks in Big-style growth spurt, you will likely find the space back there too tight for everyday use. 

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.

All the action takes place at the back end here (essentially from the rear wheels back), with Lexus adding 110mm in length to form the RX L, which sits on an identical wheelbase to the five-seat car.

They deserve credit for not making this seven-seat version feel like a behemoth, with the extension in keeping with the style of the five-seat car (same 'floating roof' sitting above a kinked pane of glass), with only the more vertical and extended boot line hinting at the third row inside.

Elsewhere, it’s business as usual for the RX L, with the bigger model sharing the sharply angled body styling, narrow headlights and ferocious-looking grille of the standard RX.

Inside, expect a premium-feel interior, with leather seats in the first and second rows (the third gets the man-made stuff), elegant wood finishing and a sleek and simple dash set-up dominated by a floating screen in its centre.

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.

You know how there are some seven-seat SUVs in which, at a pinch, you can squeeze two adults into the third row? Well, the RX L isn't one of them.

For one, climbing over the second row (after pulling a manual handle that Lexus says is quicker than an electric set-up) requires some acrobatics. And once in the seat, my head (I'm 175cm) found itself in an intimate relationship with the roof. My knees were forced into the seat in front, and most worryingly, my presence pushed the second row far enough forward to make that passenger uncomfortable, too. 

Still, how often are you really going to squeeze adults back there? There is certainly enough room for younger kids, or - as I suspect is more likely - for the third row to be used as an in-case-of-emergency option. It can house a child seat, too.

There's not a bad ambiance back there, though, with artificial leather seats, two central cupholders and tri-zone climate with vents and temperature controls. Middle-row riders now get an extra 45mm of forward adjustability (to compensate for the third row), and there are two cupholders hidden in the pull-down seat divider and bottle room in each of the rear doors.

Up front, expect two cupholders, along with a pocket in each door, while the large central storage bin is home to two USB connection points and a power source, the latter matching a second power source underneath the air-conditioning controls. 

And so, to the boot. All three rows in place, you'll find 176 litres of storage to the seat-tops (211 litres to the roof). Lower the third row, and that number climbs to 433 litres. Drop the second and third row, and you'll find 966 litres of storage.

First, the bad news. There's a price punish for opting for the seven-seat RX. How much, though, depends on which trim level you decide on. 

The RX L arrives in 'Luxury' and 'Sport Luxury' trim levels, and with two engines; a petrol-powered V6 or a hybrid option that adds an electric motor. Luxury prices start from $84,700 (a $3280 increase over the five-seat car), while the Sport Luxury models start from $101,500 (a $1630 rise). 

Opt for a Luxury car ($84,700 for the 350L, $93,440 for the 450hL) and you'll find leather seats in rows one and two, and artificial leather in the third. You'll also get heated and ventilated front seats, a leather-wrapped steering wheel and tri-zone climate control.

Outside, expect proximity unlocking, 20-inch alloys, LED headlamps and DRLs as well as standard roof rails. Technology is handled by a nav-equipped, 8.0-inch display that pairs with 12 speakers. There is no Apple CarPlay or Android Auto, though, and the entire system is operated via the 'Lexus Remote Touch' mouse pad thingy that I can't get used to no matter how hard I try.

Spring for the Sport Luxury ($101,500 for the 350L, $110,240 for the 450hL) and you'll add a colour head-up display and moon roof, as well as adaptive suspension, heated second-row seats, a nicer interior treatment and LED headlights with adaptive high beam. Your screen is bigger (now 12.3 inches), and it now pairs with a 15-speaker Mark Levinson stereo, too.

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.

There are two engine options on offer here; the V6 of the 350L or the hybrid powertrain of the 450hL.

The six-cylinder petrol engine is good for 216kW at 6300rpm and 358Nm at 4600rpm, sending that power to all four wheels via an eight-speed automatic transmission. 

The hybrid option uses the exact same engine, just with lower outputs of 193kW at 6000rpm and 335Nm at 4600rpm. It's paired with an electric motor that lifts the total output to 230kW. That combination pairs with a CVT auto, sending power to all four wheels. 

Lexus claims identical performance figures for both options, with a 0-100km/h sprint of 8.0 seconds and a top speed of 200km/h.

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.

The petrol V6 will require a claimed 10.6L per 100km on the combined cycle, with the hybrid predictably performing better, returning 6.0L/100km on the same cycle. Emissions of CO2 are pegged at 234g/km (V6) and 137g/km (hybrid).

The V6-powered RX boasts a 72-litre tank, while the hybrid shaves several of those off, offering 65 litres.

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.

Let’s start with the good news: having admittedly only been behind the wheel for a shortish stretch (and a lot of that was on a freeway) I’ll be damned if I can spot the difference from five- to seven-seater.

Its 110mm longer than the five-seat car, of course, and it's heavier, too. And a more thorough test might well reveal those extra kilograms from behind the wheel. But I suspect you'd have to be truly pushing the RX L around some serious corners to have any chance of noticing.

Keep in mind, this isn't the sportiest option in the segment, and this L version isn’t either. The steering feels a little vague and flat on-centre, and neither engine offers face-peeling acceleration. But the ride is terrific, the cabin is comfortable and polished and both the Luxury and Sport Luxury are ferociously well-equipped. 

We'll wait until we get the RX L into the office for a more thorough examination, but after our brief taste test, we reckon there'll be no on-road penalty in opting for the seven-seat option.

Lexus has a strong reputation on this front, and the RX L is predictably well-sorted from a standard safety viewpoint.

Expect 10 airbags (with the curtain bad extended to the third row), a reversing camera, blind-spot monitoring, rear cross-traffic alert and rear parking sensors. 'Lexus Safety Sense+' also arrives as standard, which adds active cruise control, lane-keep assist, auto high beam and an AEB pre-collision safety system the now includes pedestrian detection for the first time. 

The five-seat RX was awarded the maximum five-star ANCAP crash rating when tested in 2015.

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.

Expect a four-year/100,000km warranty (that's 12 months longer than both Germans), and the RX L will require a trip to the service centre every 12 months or 15,000kms. Your first service is free, and total maintenance costs for the first 60,000km will run you $2031.31.