What's the difference?
When you look at a Lexus LX, you see a distinct resemblance to a Toyota LandCruiser. That’s understandable given that, fundamentally, the Lexus LX is a comprehensively gussied-up Toyota LandCruiser.
Built to put the luxury brand into the large SUV game, and taking advantage of Toyota's huge product portfolio, it's clear that this is not for chucking down the side of a mountain (although it can absolutely do that if asked, as long as you're on good terms with your local paint shop).
Lexus is - or more accurately, LX buyers are - very clear about how folks use the LX: it’s a city car. So it's got all the sophisticated city looks, with skirts and bling and big shiny alloy wheels. Whether there's a point to all that is irrelevant - there are clearly people, like you, who want a posh LandCruiser.
They call it the Toyota LandCruiser (two words) but to Australian eyes it looks like what we affectionately call a Prado. But it’s what’s underneath the surface, beyond the name, that makes this car so interesting.
We recently had the opportunity to drive the Toyota LandCruiser in the US, where the engine isn’t the usual turbo diesel found in the Prado, but rather a petrol-electric hybrid that Australian buyers are denied.
So we wanted to know if we were missing out on something special or if Toyota Australia made the right call to stick with a diesel-only option. Aside from the engine the LandCruiser is very similar to the Prado, so we’ll focus on the key difference rather than detailing the minor changes across the pair.
We spent time behind the wheel of the US LandCruiser to find out, spending a few days driving it around Los Angeles to get a feel for it.
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.
While no doubt the hybrid would appeal to some buyers, given the limits in towing capacity and higher fuel consumption, the extra performance doesn’t really make the i-Force Max a compelling proposition for the LandCruiser/Prado. Australian buyers have made it abundantly clear they’re happy with the Prado already on sale, so it’s hard to see the hybrid having too much success here alongside the diesel engine.
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 Prado and LandCruiser largely look the same, but the 1958 we drove did have a few standout elements from a design perspective.
The most obvious are the retro round headlights of the 1958, which are meant to hark back to the original FJ Cruiser. The retro theme is helped by the round light framing the large rectangular mesh grille with ‘TOYOTA’ in big, bold letters.
Personally, I really like the round lights and think it’s a shame the Australian-bound Prado misses out, purely for the aesthetics.
Inside the cabin also feels like a throwback in time, but not to the 1950s, rather the late ‘80s and early ‘90s with the grey cloth trim. It’s a brave decision from Toyota to ditch a more modern look and feel, but, again, I really like it. It feels hard-wearing and suits the nature of the Land Cruiser in the US market, where it has to woo buyers away from Bronco and Wrangler.
One design choice of note is the US-spec version has ‘LandCruiser’ embossed on the dashboard ahead of the passenger, something else we miss out on here with our Prado.
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.
As the entry-grade variant in the US range, the LandCruiser 1958 is more utilitarian than pampering. That translates to a cabin that has plenty of usability, just like the Australian-delivered LandCruiser Prados we’re used to.
There’s nothing overtly different about the US-spec model, with good space and small item storage in the front and decent room in the second row.
The multimedia system is the same as the one used here too, which speaks to Toyota’s strength for consistency of product around the world. It means anyone driving a Toyota - whether it’s in Australia, the US or elsewhere - has a sense of familiarity immediately.
It also helps that Toyota has stuck with a large amount of physical buttons and switchgear (I counted nearly 50) in addition to the touchscreen. While other brands look to cut controls to save money at the expense of usability, Toyota is sticking with what people know and enjoy.
However, the US version of the Prado has the same riser box inside the boot, which limits its cargo capacity in the same way as it has done here. It's still a reasonable size, but the riser does eat into space and compromises practicality.
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.
For a bit of context to why the Prado is known as the LandCruiser in the States, Toyota USA skips the Fortuner for the 4Runner and ignores the LandCruiser 300 Series in favour of the Tundra-twinned Sequoia. That leaves the iconic LandCruiser nameplate unused, so it does make sense to ditch the ‘Prado’ name.
In the US it is positioned as a rival to the likes of the Ford Bronco and Jeep Wrangler, aimed at off-road adventure types, rather than the family market.
We drove the LandCruiser 1958, an entry-grade specification that has a ‘retro’ look and feel and features some unique design elements. It’s priced from US$56,700 (approx. $86,300), which is significantly more than the $72,500 Prado GX that starts our local range.
Despite the retro elements the 1958 variant gets a reasonable level of standard equipment, including keyless entry and ignition, heated fabric seats, climate control, a 7.0-inch digital instrument display panel, an 8.0-inch multimedia touchscreen, six-speaker sound system and wireless Apple CarPlay and Android auto.
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 heart of our review, the unavailable hybrid engine, the so-called 'i-Force Max' hybrid powertrain. This is because the US market has never embraced diesel engines, which are so beloved by Prado owners in Australia, so in the search for greater efficiency, Toyota USA is leaning on hybrid technology.
The set-up in the LandCruiser combines a 2.4-litre four-cylinder turbocharged petrol engine with an electric motor in the bell housing between the engine and eight-speed automatic transmission. The combined output of this petrol-electric hybrid is 243kW of power and 630Nm of torque, which is significantly more than the 150kW/500Nm offered by the 2.8-litre turbo diesel offered in Australia.
The catch is, despite the additional power and torque, the LandCruiser is only rated to tow slightly more than 2700kg compared to the 3500kg towing capacity offered by our diesel Prado.
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.
Obviously one of the biggest reasons for offering/choosing a hybrid engine is fuel efficiency and on that front the LandCruiser runs into the classic problem of big car, small engine. The official combined urban/highway fuel economy figure for the hybrid is 10.2L/100km, which is well behind the official claim for the diesel-powered Prado of just 7.6L/100km.
Drilling in deeper, the LandCruiser hybrid can drop as low as 9.4L/100km on the highway but rises to 10.6L/100km in a purely urban environment, which is typically the opposite to how hybrids excel.
The other major difference between the LandCruiser and our Prado is the size of the fuel tank. The US model only gets a 67-litre tank compared to the 110L offered in Australian models. That, naturally, has a major impact on range, with the LandCruiser hybrid only able to go a theoretical 656km on a single tank, compared to nearly 1300km for the Prado diesel.
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.
While it may be a hybrid, the LandCruiser is no urban ‘show pony’ and Toyota USA is adamant that it is tough enough to live up to the reputation of its famous nameplate. It’s built on the same TNGA-F platform as our Prado - as well as the Tundra pick-up and others - so it has the foundations for rugged adventure.
It comes standard with locking centre and rear differentials, rear coil springs, full-time four-wheel drive, a two-speed transfer case, ‘CRAWL Control’, a 2400W AC inverter and standard trailer brake controller, which are all must-haves for anyone planning a serious off-road trip.
While we have little reason to doubt the off-road ability of the LandCruiser, our test drive was limited to the urban jungle of Los Angeles, which allowed us to really focus on the powertrain.
Not surprisingly, given its similarities with other Toyota hybrid set-ups, it felt very familiar, albeit in a very different vehicle than the RAV4 and Camry we’ve driven previously. Despite its big on-paper numbers, there was some noticeable lag on initial acceleration and the engine sounds like a modern four-cylinder - a bit gruff when revved hard.
It certainly has enough performance to pull the LandCruiser along, but it isn’t over-endowed with power and torque. At least not in the way its stats suggest.
For the most part, around town, it did a good job of quietly motivating the big SUV around with a minimum of fuss.
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.
Being a US-specific model there is no ANCAP or Euro NCAP crash testing data, but given the diesel model scored a five-star rating there’s little evidence to suggest it would be any less safe.
All US LandCruiser models come standard with the Toyota Safety Sense 3.0 suite of active safety features. This includes pre-collision warning, lane departure warning with steering assist, lane tracing assist, road sign assist and full-speed adaptive cruise control.
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.
One big plus for the LandCruiser over the Prado is Toyota USA offers two years of free servicing - a nice bonus.
It does have different warranty coverage for different components though, the overall vehicle warranty covers the first three years, the powertrain is covered for five years but the hybrid components are warranted for 10 years.