Mercedes-Benz E400 vs Lexus LS

What's the difference?

A convertible that doesn't feel like one when the roof is in place is no easy task to build, but it's one Merc's engineers have pulled off with the E400 4Matic Cabriolet. Effortless power, a tonne of technology and a comfy, leather-wrapped cabin all make Merc's drop-top E-Class a strong proposition.

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.

Elegance. That's the word that springs to mind when you first clamp eyes on the E400 Cabriolet. While the Coupe version has a crouched-over sportiness about its exterior design, the convertible is all about big and boat-like proportions, especially with the fabric roof opened.

Like nearly all drop-tops, the E400 looks best with the cabin open to the elements, and the side profile especially paints a picture of well-heeled wafting, with only the AMG alloys and body styling hinting at the performance on offer under the bonnet.

Inside, expect perfectly executed modern luxury, with soft leather seats, touchpoints that melt under the fingers and a sprinkling of woodgrain trim. All of which feel like old-world luxury, nicely juxtaposed by the huge twin-screen display that dominates the dash.

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.

It's a two-door, four-seat convertible, so practicality isn't at the very top of its list of strengths.

That said, life is peachy for upfront riders, both of whom will travel in spacious luxury. There are two cupholders hidden beneath a woodgrain cover underneath the climate controls - also home to a power outlet - as well as a clever double-hinged central storage bin that can be opened by either the passenger or driver, and which opens to reveal two USB points.

There's room in the doors for bottles, too, and the entertainment system can be controlled via a touchpad controller mounted above the traditional click wheel - although, to be honest, using it is harder and more time consuming than simply pretending it doesn't exist.

Climbing into the back (and we mean climb - there are no rear doors) is made easier by the fact you can fold and slide the front seats automatically by pulling a lever mounted near the headrest. Once there, though, you'll find space is a little tighter, and you feel weirdly cocooned, owing to the huge raised tunnel that runs through the middle of the cabin, and the low roof line.

There are two cupholders that live in the space where the middle seat would normally go, and there's a little bottle-holder cubby to the left of both backseat riders. There are air vents back there, too, but no temperature controls.

The front doors are huge and really very heavy, requiring considerable heft to open them.

The boot space is predictably a little limited, with 385 litres on offer. There's also a little flip-down separator, which shows you how much room the roof will need to come down, reducing boot space to 310 litres. Speaking of which, the soft-top can be lowered in just 20 seconds, and at speeds up to 50km/h.

One practicality quirk, though. The front (and only) doors are huge and really very heavy, requiring considerable heft to open them, especially if you're parked on a slight angle. Honestly, I was reduced to kind of pushing them open with my foot at times.

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.

It's a fabulous engine, this twin-turbocharged V6 - even if it doesn't feel quite so lively in Cabriolet form as it does in the hardtop equivalents.

The 3.0-litre unit produces 245kW/480Nm, sending it to all four wheels via a nine-speed automatic transmission, linked to the standard 4Matic all-wheel drive system.

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.

Mercedes claims 7.4L/100km on the combined cycle (but you can expect to be pushing nine litres in real-world conditions), with emissions pegged at 170g per kilometre of CO2.

The 66-litre tank will only accepts 95RON fuel.

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.

Sure, the E400 Cabriolet can drive itself, but we’re equally pleased to note that it’s still a lot more fun handling the steering duties yourself.

And that is mostly due to that fabulous engine; quiet and effortless at city speeds, rorty and enthusiastic at pace, and genuinely angry with the drive setting switched to their most hardcore Sport+ mode.

We’ve already spent time in the sedan version, and while this Cabriolet is heavier (1935kg vs 1820kg) and slightly slower to 100km/h (5.5sec vs 5.2sec) it doesn’t immediately feel it behind the wheel, with a similar and satisfying lurch into the future when you plant your foot.

But hard charging is not what this car is about, and the E 400 is at its peachy best when rolling about the city or the ‘burbs with the top down, and the warm summer air washing through the cabin.

In its normal drive settings, the steering is light but engaged, and the ride on offer from the standard air suspension is outstanding, cosseting the cabin from all but the very worst road imperfections, while the torque from the V6 serves up effortless, unobtrusive acceleration.

With the roof up, Merc’s designers have done a stellar job of hiding the fact this thing is a convertible at all. It’s a solid-feeling cabin with the fabric roof fastened, and the cabin is quiet and free from wind noise.

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.

Expect the usual three-year, unlimited-kilometre warranty, with service intervals pegged at 12 months or 25,000km. Mercedes' capped-price servicing scheme limits maintenance costs to $2280 for the first three years of ownership.

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.