Lexus LX570 vs MG Im6

What's the difference?

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.

A super solid first outing from the IM brand. Don't let the pricing fool you, there is still bang for buck on offer in the IM6 Performance, even if it at times feels a bit too digital for my tastes.

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.

I feel almost mean saying this, because there will be plenty of people who like the way the IM6 looks, and I don’t want to rain on their parade. But… I’m not one of them.

It reminds me a bit of the pre-facelift Tesla Model Y, in that it’s largely feature-less and a bit blobby, and there’s not a sharp angle anywhere to be found on the thing. Premium to me means powerful and assured — picture just about any Audi — whereas I just find this a bit bland and soft.

Anyway, I do like the big alloys, the insulated glass roof and the light treatment front and rear.

And I like the cabin. The seats aren’t leather, but they’re super thick and comfortable, and there is a genuinely premium air in the cabin, helped by the acreage of screens and the quality elements, like the little door panels.

The doors unlatch electrically, matching the pop-out door handles outside, but they can be a bit fidgety. Someone from MG told me how they worked (you kind of cover the handle and let the door come to you) but I watched everyone else who tried to open them struggle. If you're at the point where you have to explain how a door handle works, you might have over-egged the pudding.

The second screen below the main one acts a bit like a mobile phone. You can alter your home screen widgets and access the main menu, even as Apple CarPlay is synched at the top. You’ll get used to it, I’m sure, but I found it to be a bit fidgety.

Actually it reminds me a little bit of the Lexus trackpad, or whatever that hateful system was called, where you controlled the main screen via a little mousepad thing, though happily it’s nowhere near as annoying as that was.

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.

The IM6 measures 4904mm long, 1988mm wide and 1669mm tall, and it rides on a 2950mm wheelbase, with IM describing it as a "mid-large SUV", though I expect it will be classed as a medium SUV Australia.

That said, ICE and EV mid-size electric SUVs are not cut from the same cloth, with the latter making use of a flat floor to maximise space. And so it is with the IM6, where backseat room is pretty damn impressive. I’m 175cm, and I had no problem at all with legroom or headroom, plus the same plush seats from up there are in the back, too.

There are also air vents but no temperature controls, and while there are USB ports, there is no regular household-style plug in the cabin. 

The glass in the windows is laminated, while the roof is double glazed, which MG tells me is Australian summer-proof, but I guess we'll know for sure in a couple of months.

There’s no shortage of cargo room either. There’s a 32-litre frunk up front, and there’s 646 litres in the boot with the rear seats in place. They’re 60/40 split, and if you drop them, luggage space grows to 1621 litres.

The towing capacity is a braked 1500kg, too, but I don’t expect to see many of these towing a camper trailer around.

Premium play means more premium prices, and my IM6 Performance will set you back $80,990 on the road. That might have just sent your eyebrows skyward, but keep in mind it’s faster than some Ferraris, and is swimming with high-end tech, so the bang-for-buck factor is actually still pretty good.

There are cheaper ones, too. The single-motor Premium grade is $60,990 drive-away, albeit with less power and slower charging. Then there’s the Platinum, with a bigger battery and faster charging, which is $69,990

The Performance, though, gets everything IM has to give, including an 800-volt architecture, which means super-fast charging, as well as twin motors, brutal acceleration, a decent driving range and adaptive air suspension.

Elsewhere, you get LED lighting, a big and insulated glass roof, and 20-inch alloy wheels. Inside, there are thick and soft synthetic leather seats that are heated and cooled in both rows, a banging 20-speaker sound system, and wireless charging to pair with wireless Apple CarPlay and Android Auto.

There’s also 'active noise cancellation', and a seat-aware digital assistant which is about the best, and fastest, I’ve ever used. The IM6’s speaker system can locate where a voice is coming from, so any passenger can use the assistant. For example, if you’re in the backseat and say 'hey IM, lower my window', only your window opens. It’s a technology that I specifically remember the German brands crowing about not so long ago.

There’s also a 10.5-inch central touchscreen that controls much of the vast 26.3-inch screen that runs from in front of the driver to the centre of the cabin, as well as clever little magnets embedded in the dash in front of the driver, as well as in the back of the front seat headrests, that are designed to hold phones, iPads or other little accessories.

Also cool is the IM6’s self-parking tech, but there’s also a relatively useless crab walk function, which leans on the rear-wheel steering system to drive diagonally at slow speeds. I’m still not entirely sure when you’d use that one, to be honest.

Honestly, it’s a lot of stuff, and a lot of tech.

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.

This is the real party trick of the IM6, because there’s a nuclear power plant under the metal somewhere. All up, the twin-motor setup produces a total 578kW and 802Nm, though I suspect you’re never accessing all the grunt all at once. Still, 100km/h zips by in 3.4 seconds, and the top speed is 239km/h. For the record, that’s exactly as fast the Ferrari Roma Spider I recently handed back, so yeah, it’s properly supercar quick.

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.

Also on board is a 100kWh Nickel-Cobalt-Magnesium battery that produces a WLTP driving range of 505kms. Pretty good.

Charging is strong, too. The high-tech platform allows for 396kW DC fast charging, which is faster than what is currently offered in Australia. The claim is 30-80 per cent charged in 15 minutes. There’s also an external vehicle-to-load (V2L) port.

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. 

First things first, don't get too distracted by the word "performance" here. The IM6 doesn't act like a performance car, it feels bit too plush, and bit too digital, for that.

But that's not necessarily a bad thing. Performance cars are often loud, raucous and uncomfortable, and the IM6 is none of those things. Instead, those mountains of power and torque make silky, silent progress absolutely effortless, which feels pretty premium to me.

MG makes a big deal of how much work went into insulating the cabin from noise – with active noise cancellation joined by double-paned insulated glass – and it is a properly calming and quiet space.

Also strong is the suspension, with the adaptive air setup soaking up most bumps and bruises, but I found it can clang over really solid bumps, sounding like it's bouncing off a stopper. The steering is solid, too, with a nice weight, if not overly talkative in the feedback department, while the rear-wheel steering helps eat into the turning circle for tight three-point turns.

The downside, though, is that it all feels a little too digital, and like there's been a little too much overthinking gone into it. Having to push a button to see behind you in a hurry is bonkers (see my explanation in the Safety section below), and the secondary screen is more annoying than intuitive. And there were several bings or bongs I couldn't even identify. All of which interrupts the otherwise calming nature of the drive experience.

There is a long list of safety aids on the IM6, and I won't detail the lot here. But I will call out a couple of curious mentions.

As always, the driver distraction warning is annoying, but can be switched off. And MG also counts the IM platform, or what it calls a digital chassis, as part of the safety offering. It has its own digital brain that adapts the air suspension, the rear-wheel steering and the active safety kit on the fly.

The other curiosity is the weird way you see out the back. Rather than fit a digital rear-view mirror to counteract the almost non-existent rear vision, you instead push up on a little toggle on the steering wheel to bring up a live view of what's happening behind you on the central screen.

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.

The IM6 is covered by a five-year, unlimited-kilometre warranty, rather than MG’S 10-year term. Capped-price servicing is offered for the first five years, with your total bill just under $3000. The service intervals are 20,000kms or 12 months.