Evelyn Reynolds

Volvo got a whole lot right when it debuted the latest generation of the Polestar-massaged V60 station wagon. However, the plug-in hybrid proved a little light on EV range, and its performance couldn’t match that of its gas-only predecessor. Now, with a few extra tweaks under the skin, the revitalized V60 T8 eAWD Polestar Engineered is finally putting down some solid figures.The upgrades to the V60 Polestar’s plug-in-hybrid powertrain are shared with the other Volvo models carrying the same underpinnings. The battery picks up a third row of cells, boosting usable capacity from 9.1 to 14.9 kilowatt-hours. At the same time, the electric motor powering the rear axle gets a bump from 87 to 143 horsepower. It also contributes 228 pound-feet of torque. Because of the added electrical oomph, the formerly turbo- and supercharged 2.0-liter inline-four has surrendered its supercharger. The revised turbo-only mill makes a healthy 312 horses and 295 pound-feet on its own, and total combined output is now a meaty 455 ponies and 523 pound-feet of torque, respective improvements of 40 and 29.HIGHS: Impressive EV range, solid hybrid performance, did we mention it’s a wagon?That increased battery capacity should give the electric-only range a big boost, and it does. In our 75-mph highway cruise test, the 2024 V60 Polestar managed 44 miles of EV range, besting its Volvo-estimated range of 41 miles in Pure mode and absolutely trouncing the 2020 model’s 21-mile highway test result. Overall fuel economy on our 200-mile highway loop is up, as well, from 31 mpg to 34. Charging from empty to full—a typical use case for a PHEV—will take five hours, at best, on 240-volt Level 2 charge equipment. That’s okay for overnight home refills but too slow for midday top-ups. We blame Volvo’s puny 3.7-kW onboard charger, a component they should have upsized when they enlarged the battery but didn’t. Giving the rear-axle electric motor a little extra juice finally puts the V60 Polestar ahead of its gas-only forebear. At 4.1 seconds to 60 mph, the 2024 model pulls ahead of a 2017 V60 Polestar we tested by one-tenth of a second; it bests the 2020 PHEV by three-tenths. A 12.5-second, 111-mph quarter-mile sprint tops the previous V60’s 12.9-second, 107-mph result. The 2024 V60 also improves on the 2020 model’s 50-to-70 passing time, shrinking it from 3.4 seconds to 3.2. In the opposite direction, the V60 slams to a halt from 70 mph in 163 feet and from 100 mph in 331 feet.The V60 Polestar’s demeanor varies between sedate and seething, depending on which mode it’s in. Leave everything in the default settings, and the wagon will prioritize electric driving, lolling quietly down the road until juice runs low or the right pedal gets pushed in anger—a clever icon on the digital cluster’s power gauge marks the point where more throttle will engage the engine. People who want to save juice for city driving will be happy to find settings to either hold or generate charge while driving. The only real complaint here is that the center console’s mode switch is gone, now requiring a few taps of the center display to find and change these settings.LOWS: Slow AC charging, modes buried in menus, limited front-row storage.Polestar driving mode puts the full force of the powertrain to work, with the gas engine working the front wheels while the e-motor propels the rears. Volvo’s turbocharged engine is demure, preferring a subtler sort of racket that avoids the snap-crackle-pop theatrics of other hi-po powertrains. The eight-speed automatic transmission never makes itself known, and the blending between gas and electric propulsion is buttery smooth. Brake regeneration can be activated by shifting the wagon into B instead of D, and it’s strong enough to bring the whole show to a halt.Adjusting the V60 Polestar’s suspension involves more than a few taps on a display. The standard Öhlins dampers are adjustable, yes, but only through the knobs on the top of each strut. The default stiffness is on the firm side of the spectrum, but a softer ride is just a few clicks away. As it comes from the factory, the V60’s ride is stern, nicely transferring weight between the corners as it’s chucked down a twisty two-lane while avoiding the kind of bad-road porpoising you can get in a car like the BMW M3 CS.Despite design cues that are on the mature side, the Volvo wears its style well. Both the interior and exterior lack the kind of trendy drama that leads a vehicle to look old later down the line. The front half of the cabin is cozy but not claustrophobic, although there’s a distinct lack of storage beyond the door pockets. The rear offers suitable space for adults too. One part of the interior that has been zhuzhed up over time is the infotainment system, which now runs on Google underpinnings and includes baked-in features such as Google Maps and Spotify, in addition to the usual smartphone mirroring. Even More Zippy Wagon ContentVERDICT: Volvo’s wünderwagen makes an even better case for itself.At $72,345 to start, our V60 Polestar test car is not a cheap proposition. However, stepping up to the next tier of sporty wagons—a segment run by the likes of the Audi RS6 Avant and Porsche Panamera Sport Turismo—requires a six-figure outlay and places a far greater priority on pure performance. If you’d rather strike a balance between sprightly back-road antics and emissions-free commuting, the V60 Polestar will give you both without feeling compromised.Arrow pointing downArrow pointing downSpecificationsSpecifications
2024 Volvo V60 T8 eAWD Polestar EngineeredVehicle Type: front-engine, front- and rear-motor, rear/all-wheel-drive, 5-passenger, 4-door wagon
PRICE
Base/As Tested: $72,345/$72,925 Options: Luggage cover, $380; power tailgate, $200
POWERTRAIN
Turbocharged and intercooled DOHC 16-valve 2.0-liter inline-4, 312 hp, 295 lb-ft + 2 AC motors, 46 and 143 hp, 133 and 228 lb-ft (combined output: 455 hp, 523 lb-ft; 14.9-kWh lithium-ion battery pack; 3.7-kW onboard charger)Transmissions, F/R: 8-speed automatic/direct drive
CHASSIS
Suspension, F/R: control arms/multilinkBrakes, F/R: 14.6-in vented, grooved disc/12.6-in vented discTires: Continental Premium Contact 6235/40R-19 96W Extra Load VOL
DIMENSIONS
Wheelbase: 113.1 in   Length: 188.1 inWidth: 72.8 inHeight: 56.3 inPassenger Volume, F/R: 51/42 ft3Cargo Volume, Behind F/R: 61/26 ft3Curb Weight: 4494 lb
C/D TEST RESULTS
60 mph: 4.1 sec100 mph: 10.0 sec1/4-Mile: 12.5 sec @ 111 mphResults above omit 1-ft rollout of 0.2 sec.Rolling Start, 5–60 mph: 4.5 secTop Gear, 30–50 mph: 2.5 secTop Gear, 50–70 mph: 3.2 secTop Speed (gov ltd): 113 mphBraking, 70–0 mph: 163 ftBraking, 100–0 mph: 331 ftRoadholding, 300-ft Skidpad: 0.90 g
C/D FUEL ECONOMY
Observed: 27 MPGe75-mph Highway Driving, EV/Hybrid Mode: 86 MPGe/34 mpg75-mph Highway Range, EV/Hybrid mode: 44/540 mi
EPA FUEL ECONOMY 
Combined/City/Highway: 31/30/33 mpgCombined Gasoline + Electricity: 74 MPGeEV Range: 41 mi
C/D TESTING EXPLAINEDSenior EditorCars are Andrew Krok’s jam, along with boysenberry. After graduating with a degree in English from the University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign in 2009, Andrew cut his teeth writing freelance magazine features, and now he has a decade of full-time review experience under his belt. A Chicagoan by birth, he has been a Detroit resident since 2015. Maybe one day he’ll do something about that half-finished engineering degree. More

From the March 1999 issue of Car and Driver.However much we rhapsodize about the mystical bond between drivers and certain special automobiles, at some point a car has to deliver on some fundamental functions, specifically, its ability to haul people and cargo reliably and efficiently. Measured against that practical standard, it’s tough to come up with a more rational car than Volkswagen’s new Golf. Which may have a lot to do with its posi­tion as the third-bestselling car in history, behind the Beetle and the Toyota Corolla, and ahead of Henry Ford’s sainted Model T. And even though we tend to value dri­verly virtues over practical ones—that’s why we prefer Miatas to, say, Malibus—­the sensible-shoes dimension is mitigated a little here by the fun-to-drive factor.How much fun is this car to drive? Well, not as much as the roarty GTI VR6. The 2.0-liter SOHC eight-valve four that’s standard equipment in the five-door Golf has been thoroughly overhauled, but it’s distinctly short on snort. Still, for drivers who draw pleasure from the kind of precision and straight-line sta­bility that come from autobahn breeding, the Golf does fairly well. And does it with the added bonus of providing surprisingly supple ride quality, quiet operation, and a long list of luxo features. And when needed, it has an amazing appetite for cargo.HIGHS: Supple ride quality, capacious cargo maw, driver command features.That last is the great virtue of front-­drive hatchbacks, of course. And that’s why the basic Golf design has changed so little in a quarter-century. You don’t have to squint very hard to see the relationship between the Giorgetto Giugiaro original, introduced in May 1974, and the latest renewal, now embarked on its fourth generation. The edges have been softened, and the mechan­ical elements are more refined, but the only fundamental change over the years has been carefully controlled growth. Since its debut a quarter-century ago, the wheelbase of the five-door Golf has been stretched 4.4 inches, its overall length has increased 8.1 inches, its width has expanded by 4.9 inches, and the roof is just 1.2 inches taller. It is also, however, almost 1000 pounds heavier. You can thank your friendly federal government for much of the extra mass, which can be attributed to crashworthiness and other safety-related standards. On the other hand, the expanding dimensions have also expanded the Golf’s capacity for stuff. In 1975, the Golf/Rabbit five-door could hold 35.7 cubic feet of assorted goods once the rear seats were folded flat. The latest version can ingest precisely 41.9 cubic feet of cargo, according to Volks­wagen. That’s almost as much as you can cram into a new five-door Chevy Tracker sport-utility vehicle. Given the new Golf’s expanded dimensions—almost three inches longer, 1.6 inches wider, and a half-inch taller than the Golf III—VW could have created even more space for lamps, furniture, stuffed owls, chain saws, and the other small freight people are prone to haul around, but a parallel priority was increasing the habitability of the rear seat. Thus, rear-seat legroom has expanded by 1.8 inches, and there’s also a tad more headroom. It’s still snug behind the front seats, but that’s something that can be said for almost any compact sedan you care to name —unless you name one of Chrysler’s Neon twins.However, there’s plenty of room up front, and the seats are worthy of a BMW: Well shaped and nicely padded, they have excellent lateral support and lots of adjustability. When you combine those virtues with a steering column that tilts and telescopes, plus a pedal layout that practically begs you to practice your heel-and-toe technique, you have a setup that wouldn’t be out of place in a World Rally Championship car. Some secondary elements of the control layout don’t play quite as well. For example, the rotary seatback rake­-adjustment knobs are hard to reach and generally unpopular with American drivers. The audio controls—VW seems to have a universal system common to a number of its current cars—are irritatingly small, and because the system is mounted low, just below a small storage bin, they’re even more irritatingly tricky to use while driving. That bin, for its part, is just below a panel that conceals a brace of pop-out cupholders—clever in design but awk­ward to employ when the car is moving, the contents of the cup are hot, and you can only devote one arm to the task. LOWS: Tepid power, ropy shifting, verges on pricey.On the other hand, the appearance of the Golf’s interior is almost beyond reproach—a stylish combination of tex­tures, patterns, contrasts, and quality materials, augmented by thoughtful touches. For example, there are remov­able rubber liners at the bottom of the map pockets to keep stuff from rattling and also to allow for cleaning. And there’s a comprehensive first-aid kit tucked away above the left-rear wheel well. And speaking of safety, all Golfs (and Jettas) come with side airbags for front-seat passengers, and anti-lock brakes. Both features were optional in the previous generation. Okay, we said something about fun to drive, right? Good news, bad news. Like most of its predecessors, the new Golf feels like a German car. There’s that unique tension in its sinews, and a sense of athletic poise and balance. That’s tempered somewhat by concessions to ride comfort—relatively soft spring rates and shock damping—and steering that’s a little lighter than we’d associate with the rally car we men­tioned earlier. But let’s not confuse civ­ilized ride quality and good road-noise isolation with mushy responses. Thanks to its new unit body, shared with the Jetta among others, the new Golf is some 250 pounds heavier than its predecessor, but if its responses are slightly slower, they’re still precise and pre­dictable. If you read understeer into pre­dictability, you’d be correct—but it’s moderate understeer. The bad news: Enjoying this car means totally renouncing any power dreams that may have been lurking in your subcon­scious. VW’s redesign of the standard 2.0-liter gas engine (a high-mileage 1.9-liter turbo-diesel is also available) was aimed at improved emissions performance and better packageability—remember that the designers had to shoehorn this unit into the New Beetle, too. As a result, output is unchanged at 115 horsepower and 122 pound-feet of torque, although peak torque comes on at 2600 rpm rather than 3200. Compound that with a significant weight gain—not to mention the addition of a vague five-speed manual gearshift, an apparent Golf tradition—and you have acceleration that’s just this side of glacial. When we tested a third-generation Golf (July 1994), it managed to tow itself to 60 mph in 9.1 seconds—not exactly Neon ter­ritory, but acceptable. This Golf took 10.6 seconds to hit 60, another sport-ute simi­larity but one we think falls outside the realm of acceptability. More Archive ReviewsGetting the output of this engine up to competitive levels would have required a new DOHC multivalve cylinder head. VW was simply unwilling to take on that cost, particularly with Audi’s proven 1.8-liter DOHC 20-valve four in the inventory and soon to become an option in the Beetle. VERDICT: High quality, unparalleled practicality, but the thrill is gone.With that engine, we think it would be much easier to appreciate the other virtues of this hefty hatchback. Not to mention its rather hefty price—$16,875 for the base five-door GLS (the GL three-door costs $1450 less). Power windows that go down or up with one touch are neat, and we like a six-speaker stereo as much as the next guy. But we’d swap all the goodies for about 25 horsepower.Car and DriverArrow pointing downArrow pointing downSpecificationsSpecifications
1999 Volkswagen Golf GLSVehicle Type: front-engine, front-wheel-drive, 5-passenger, 4-door hatchback
PRICE
Base/As Tested: $16,875/$18,170Options: Luxury package (power sunroof, aluminum wheels), $1000; 6-disc CD changer, $295
ENGINESOHC 16-valve inline-4, iron block and aluminum head, port fuel injectionDisplacement: 121 in3, 1987 cm3Power: 115 hp @ 5200 rpmTorque: 122 lb-ft @ 2600 rpm 
TRANSMISSION5-speed manual
CHASSIS
Suspension, F/R: control arms/multilinkBrakes, F/R: 10.1-in vented disc/7.9-in discTires: Michelin Energy MXV4 Plus195/65HR-15
DIMENSIONS
Wheelbase: 98.9 inLength: 163.3 inWidth: 68.3 inHeight: 56.7 inPassenger Volume, F/R: 49/38 ft3Cargo Volume: 18 ft3Curb Weight: 2844 lb
C/D TEST RESULTS
60 mph: 10.6 sec1/4-Mile: 18.0 sec @ 77 mph100 mph: 38.3 secRolling Start, 5–60 mph: 11.5 secTop Gear, 30–50 mph: 9.9 secTop Gear, 50–70 mph: 10.6 secTop Speed (drag ltd): 115 mphBraking, 70–0 mph: 176 ftRoadholding, 300-ft Skidpad: 0.76 g 
C/D FUEL ECONOMY
Observed: 24 mpg
EPA FUEL ECONOMYCity/Highway: 24/31 mpg 
C/D TESTING EXPLAINEDTony was smart, well read, funny, irascible, cantankerous, opinionated, friendly, difficult, charming, honest, and eminently interesting to be around.

He loved cars, car people, and words… but most of all, he loved racing. The Car and Driver writer, editor, and racer passed away in 2018 at age 78.
Remembering Tony More

From the October 2023 issue of Car and Driver.Why wait for Elon Musk’s ethically dubious Neuralink? If you want to feel telepathically connected to something, buy a BMW M3 CS. Behind its David Cronenberg body-horror visage is a lighter, stronger M3 that responds with such immediacy that it’s as if there’s a cable from the USB port jammed into your brainstem.The M3 CS’s twin-turbo 3.0-liter inline-six makes 543 horsepower, 40 more than the M3 Competition and 70 more than the standard model. Torque remains unchanged from the Comp at 479 pound-feet. Unlike the equally track-focused M4 CSL, the CS is all-wheel drive, though the system can decouple the front axle to enable rear-drive heroics. An eight-speed automatic is the only transmission offered because it’s quicker than a human.Carbon-fiber-reinforced plastic carries the weight (or lack thereof) in the M3 CS. BMW uses it liberally, from the roof to the cabin trim. The cabin also sheds weight by replacing the center armrest with an awkward stub of a thing that’s ergonomically frustrating in daily driving. BMW’s lightweight (and, if you’re thick of thigh, cramped) carbon bucket seats are standard. All of this contributes to a curb weight of 3890 pounds, 39 less than the M3 Competition xDrive we tested and 310 more than the M4 CSL.Then again, daily driving is clearly not BMW’s goal for this car. The M3 CS defaults to its smoothest suspension setting but can’t negate the impact harshness from the thin-sidewall Michelin Pilot Sport Cup 2 R tires. Switch to a firmer setting anywhere but an obsidian-smooth track, and you’ll regret it. The steering is quick and never relaxed on-center, riding a fine line between telepathic and twitchy. It’s a rowdy point-and-shoot affair.More on the M3 SedanThe M3 CS’s liposuction pays off. With a 2.7-second 60-mph time, it’s a tenth quicker than the M3 Competition xDrive and six-tenths quicker than the CSL (thank you, all-wheel-drive traction). It crosses the quarter in 10.7 seconds at 129 mph, so you can brag that you own a 10-second car. Around the skidpad, there’s more understeer than expected from the Cup 2 Rs. An average of 1.06 g’s is quite low for a track tire and barely exceeds the Competition xDrive’s result. But the sticky tires and an $8500 carbon-ceramic brake package keep deceleration nice and tidy, stopping the car from 70 mph in just 146 feet.Andi Hedrick|Car and DriverAndi Hedrick|Car and DriverYou may have noticed that the M3 CS only marginally outperforms the M3 Competition xDrive, despite a starting price that’s $34,400 higher. If you’re chasing every tenth on the track, that could be worth it. But if you’re just peacocking at the office, we’d stick with the Competition and save a bit on physical therapy.Arrow pointing downArrow pointing downSpecificationsSpecifications
2024 BMW M3 CSVehicle Type: front-engine, rear/all-wheel-drive, 5-passenger, 4-door sedan
PRICE
Base/As Tested: $119,695/$132,695Options: M carbon ceramic brakes w/ gold calipers, $8500; Signal Green paint, $4500 
ENGINEtwin-turbocharged and intercooled DOHC 24-valve inline-6, aluminum block and head, direct fuel injectionDisplacement: 183 in3, 2993 cm3Power: 543 hp @ 7200 rpmTorque: 479 lb-ft @ 2750 rpm 
TRANSMISSION8-speed automatic
CHASSIS
Suspension, F/R: struts/multilinkBrakes, F/R: 15.7-in vented, cross-drilled carbon-ceramic disc/15.0-in vented, cross-drilled carbon-ceramic discTires: Michelin Pilot Sport Cup 2F: 275/35ZR-19 (100Y) Extra Load DT ★R: 285/30ZR-20 (99Y) Extra Load DT ★
DIMENSIONS
Wheelbase: 112.5 inLength: 188.8 inWidth: 75.5 inHeight: 56.6 inPassenger Volume: 98 ft3Trunk Volume: 13 ft3Curb Weight: 3890 lb
C/D TEST RESULTS
60 mph: 2.7 sec100 mph: 6.4 sec1/4-Mile: 10.7 sec @ 129 mph130 mph: 11.0 sec150 mph: 16.1 sec170 mph: 23.7 secResults above omit 1-ft rollout of 0.2 sec.Rolling Start, 5–60 mph: 4.0 secTop Gear, 30–50 mph: 2.4 secTop Gear, 50–70 mph: 2.7 secTop Speed (mfr’s claim): 188 mphBraking, 70–0 mph: 146 ftBraking, 100–0 mph: 295 ftRoadholding, 300-ft Skidpad: 1.06 g 
C/D FUEL ECONOMY
Observed: 19 mpg75-mph Highway Driving: 30 mpg75-mph Highway Range: 460 mi
EPA FUEL ECONOMYCombined/City/Highway: 18/15/22 mpg 
C/D TESTING EXPLAINEDSenior EditorCars are Andrew Krok’s jam, along with boysenberry. After graduating with a degree in English from the University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign in 2009, Andrew cut his teeth writing freelance magazine features, and now he has a decade of full-time review experience under his belt. A Chicagoan by birth, he has been a Detroit resident since 2015. Maybe one day he’ll do something about that half-finished engineering degree. More

From the February 1997 issue of Car and Driver.I have a friend, a Manhattan lawyer, who grunts his hunter-green Range Rover into four-wheel low-low to traverse a brief stretch of potholed dirt road on the approach to our upstate New York driveway. It’s 50 yards of “off-roading,” for which a Vermonter in a Caprice wouldn’t even lift off the throttle, but it’s the only polishing the gears in my attorney amigo’s transfer case ever get. HIGHS: Supple, cushy highway ride in a cabin that whispers “Q45,” state-of-the-art all-wheel-drive mechanicals.The typical Infiniti QX4, the world’s newest upscale sport­-ute—the category-within-a-category that we now call LSUV, “L” for “luxury”—probably won’t even go that far off the road. Leathery trimmings, a CD changer and a Bose sound system, and a superb highway ride so pervade this machine that it’s difficult to imagine anyone bramble-brushing its paint job, muddying the carpeting, or dirtying the stylish three­-spoke alloys. Indeed, Infiniti rationalizes the ample slathering of imitation wood trim in the cabin by calling it a “further element of ruggedness, so as not to let the occupants forget they are in a sport-­utility.” Which they otherwise might. Still, the QX4 is a fully capable off­-roader, with a sophisticated new four­-wheel-drive system biased toward trans­parent highway performance, presumably for the day you simply must cross a wet Hamptons lawn to reach valet parking at the wedding reception. To say the QX4 is nothing more than a Nissan Pathfinder carrying around $9900 worth of leather, imitation wood, and elec­tronics perhaps misses the point, although certainly there is a Pathfinder under the aggressively restyled grille and body cladding. (Much of the marketing motiva­tion for the LSUV class is the under­standable desire of Infiniti, Lexus, and Acura dealers to share in the profit their mainstream counterparts are accruing from standard SUVs.) The excellent new-generation Pathfinder serves as a platform for a totally recalibrated five-link, coil-spring rear suspension that, in combination with the independent front struts and a lot of ride-control engi­neering, provides the QX4 with what is arguably the most com­fortable, most compliant, most refined, and yes, most luxurious ride of any sport-utility vehicle in the world. LOWS: Big box, little engine; lots of leather, carpeting, and wood-grain to push around.Nor did the QX4’s four­-wheel-drive system come out of a pickup-truck parts bin. It’s in fact derived from the electronic all-wheel-drive system used in the hot Nissan Skyline GT-R coupe sold in Japan—one of the more desirable cars off limits to the U.S. In the “auto” setting of the three-position dash switch (two-wheel drive, automatic operation, and locked center differential), a wet multiplate clutch in the center diff apportions power to the front wheels as well as the rears, depending not only on slippage but also on throttle opening and engine rpm. It does all this not in preset steps but via seamless variable torque splitting. This All-Mode four-wheel-drive system is not shared with the Pathfinder. No apology is needed for the QX4’s handling. There’s none of the hobby­horsing of some short-wheelbase utes or the high-roll-center slackness of others with necessarily long off-road suspension travel. The QX4 feels like . . . well, like a tall car. For all the real estate they take up on the planet, SUVs like the QX4 are surprisingly inefficient people movers. The QX4 is really a slightly cramped four-person vehicle—though there are belts for three in the back—and rear head and foot room are a bit limited.You really have to crank small-engine SUVs to get what would in any car be considered subpar acceleration. It’s true of the iron-block two-­valve 3.3-liter QX4 as well, whether freeway merging or approaching the wall of aerodynamic reluctance that begins to solidify at about 70 mph—0 to 60 mph takes twelve seconds. Admittedly, the 168-hp V-6 is cammed and tuned for low-speed torque in an odd nod to potential off-road use. So you’ll be paying about $38,000 (loaded) for a vehicle because it has boon­docks capabilities that may rarely be used, and it will be lumbered with performance around which a Neon will run brightly colored rings. But at least the QX4 is vastly quieter than its more utilitarian competi­tion, so you’re spared the roaring, whin­ing, trapped-inside-an-air-conditioner cacophony of lesser SUVs. The luxury-SUV market is a special and limited one, for unlike most luxury sedans and coupes, the contenders offer not much more in pure performance than do their ple­beian counterparts. Most buyers demand a bit more for their money. More Luxury SUV Reviews From the ArchiveThe Acura SLX (née Isuzu Trooper), the Honda Passport (née Isuzu Rodeo), the Lexus LX450 (née Toyota Land Cruiser), and now the badge-engineered QX4 (née Pathfinder) join a category long served by Land Rover. These vehicles also compete with the image-enhanced Mercury Mountaineer, and by next fall, the Mercedes-Benz M-class will attempt to redefine the whole LSUV market with its unique Daimler-Benz cachet. There are signs that the SUV market is finally nearing saturation—Ford’s offer of Explorer rebates, for one—but the LSUV niche will remain viable as long as there are buyers who absolutely, positively must have a rolling oxymoron that makes few compromises in highway ride, inte­rior quietude, cabin luxury, or—it’s true—off-road capability. VERDICT: World’s most expensive—and most comfortable—Pathfinder.Arrow pointing downArrow pointing downSpecificationsSpecifications
1997 Infiniti QX4Vehicle Type: front-engine, rear/4-wheel-drive, 5-passenger, 4-door wagon
PRICE
Base/As Tested: $36,209/$37,872Options: Premium Sport package (power sunroof; heated front seats, limited-slip rear differential), $1650; luxury tax on option, $13
ENGINESOHC 12-valve V-6, iron block and aluminum heads, port fuel injectionDisplacement: 200 in3, 3275 cm3Power: 168 hp @ 4800 rpmTorque: 196 lb-ft @ 2800 rpm 
TRANSMISSION4-speed automatic
CHASSIS
Suspension, F/R: struts/rigid axleBrakes, F/R: 10.9-in vented disc/11.7-in drumTires: Bridgestone Dueler H/TP245/70SR-16
DIMENSIONS
Wheelbase: 106.3 inLength: 183.9 inWidth: 72.4 inHeight: 70.7 inPassenger Volume, F/R: 52/39 ft3Cargo Volume, Behind F/R: 85/38 ft3Curb Weight: 4258 lb
C/D TEST RESULTS
60 mph: 12.0 sec1/4-Mile: 18.7 sec @ 72 mph100 mph: 71.0 secRolling Start, 5–60 mph: 12.4 secTop Gear, 30–50 mph: 6.0 secTop Gear, 50–70 mph: 10.0 secTop Speed (drag ltd): 100 mphBraking, 70–0 mph: 205 ftRoadholding, 300-ft Skidpad: 0.70 g 
C/D FUEL ECONOMY
Observed: 15 mpg
EPA FUEL ECONOMYCity/Highway: 15/19 mpg 
C/D TESTING EXPLAINED More

From the July 1994 issue of Car and Driver.Riding in a hearse—all 21 feet of it—is a harrowing experience. Not because the thing is so large that we discussed photographing it by satellite. And not because it’s morbid or ghoulish. But because the word “hearse” is derived from “harrows,” which were framelike things that held candles. Then the name “harrows” was applied to the frame used to carry the coffin from the house to the church. And then anything used to trans­port a coffin became a harrows, from which was required only moderate drunken slurring before the word was bastardized into “hearse.” So much for tedious etymology. What isn’t tedious is the 1994 Superior Crown Sovereign Cadillac hearse, a name that, like the car, is so immense it has stretch marks. This vehicle is as painstak­ingly custom-built as anything George Barris ever concocted and a lot classier. Sure, Cadillac made the hood, front fend­ers, drivetrain, and dashboard. But every other piece, from the A-pillars to the 31-inch stretch in the wheelbase to the immense side doors to the high-mounted brake light in the rearmost loading door, is custom-fabricated of metal, glass, and sheet-molding compound. All of this is performed in a 135,000-square-foot fac­tory in the dankest recesses of Lima, Ohio, by S&S Superior, a company that has been building hearses for 71 years. The hearse tested here fetches not only the freshly deceased but also $69,858 per copy. From the moment it arrived in Ohio (having been shipped from Cadillac’s plant in Arlington, Texas), it required seven weeks of labor by 196 persons before it achieved a condition sufficiently stately to conduct the big-buck business of funerals.Oddly enough, from behind the hearse’s wheel, your first impression is that the two-seat cockpit, like the cabin of a pickup truck, is cozy and compact (apart from offering such amazing headroom that a six-foot-five driver can still wear a fedora and not rub the headliner). The notion of coziness is dispelled the first time you round a curve and the hearse’s inside rear wheel soundly slams a curb, then inflicts canyon-size ruts some two feet into your neighbor’s freshly seeded fescue. The side-view mirrors reflect the immense, cue-stick-straight flanks but divulge no clue as to the location of the hearse’s tail. There exists no three-quarter vision, either, because of the 18-inch dead panel (their term, not ours) behind the B-pillars. And the view through the backlight is largely obscured by dour velvet drapes. The first time I backed the Crown Sovereign hearse into my garage, I crushed a 50-gallon Rubbermaid garbage tub, and the foremost four feet of this Cadillac was still protruding defiantly onto my driveway. Thus, the next time you observe a funeral director backing a hearse precisely into position for a drop-off (with God knows how many already-unhappy onlookers sulkily scrutinizing his every move), give him a small salute.The upside to all of this difficulty in maneuvering is that those with whom you share the road afford a hearse special cour­tesy. They make holes in traffic, let you merge, allow you to exit driveways and side streets. They avert their eyes. You could drive a hearse naked and not be noticed, at least until burial proceedings were approximately 30 minutes underway. S&S Superior’s president is Don Cuz­zocrea, a softspoken 49-year-old man whose office is adorned with photos of Johnny Rutherford, George Bush, Johnny Unitas, and a helmet once worn by friend Al Unser Jr. As he walks through his plant, he greets all 196 employees by name. Cuzzocrea wasn’t sure he wanted C/D to test one of his hearses, given the vehi­cle’s mission in life, never mind its sym­bolic mission in the afterlife. As it turned out, he needn’t have worried. Well, mostly. Parts of the test didn’t surprise us. If you want to see something akin to Mike Tyson in a Kathy Smith aerobics video, for instance, you should observe a 5489-pound hearse, standing almost six feet tall, hurtling around a skid­pad. It doesn’t so much circulate the skid­pad as fill it. Still, this hearse, pushing its front Michelin MX4s like a mammoth white bulldozer, achieved 0.70 g of grip, the same adhesion achieved by a standard-­length Fleetwood Brougham we tested last year. From 70 mph, this behemoth stops in 213 feet, which places it dead even with a Mazda MPV and a Dodge Caravan. And gliding majestically at 70 mph, the hearse generates the same hushed interior thrum as a Bentley Turbo R. This seems stately and appropriate. But most surprising for a vehicle the size of Belgium is its accelerative prowess. Sixty mph is yours in 9.1 seconds, corpse not included. This relative quickness, of course, is attributable to GM’s Gen II 5.7-liter V-8, which belts out 260 horsepower at 5000 rpm and a locomotive-like 335 pound-feet of torque at a down-and-dirty 2400 rpm, all of it fed through a 9.5-inch ring-and-pinion assembly possibly pur­chased from Dale Earnhardt. In addition, Superior makes its own two-piece drive­shaft and heavy-duty coil springs. Our drag-strip results reflect, as noted, only one body aboard. Usually there would be two (one supple and smiling, the other not), as well as the added 350 pounds of dead weight (sorry) for what the funeral biz euphemistically calls a “container.” But this 0-to-60 time is a tenth of a second quicker than that of a Camaro V-6 auto­matic. And if you in your Camaro get embroiled in a drag race with a Superior hearse, guess which car gets pulled over by Officer Bob? Under wide-open throt­tle, the big V-8 snarls and whoops in a dis­tinctly non-funereal fashion, although the hot-rod racket emanates from so far astern that you look in the mirrors to see if some­one’s ZR-1 is possibly overtaking. One drawback to this performance is a dismal EPA city rating of 14 mpg. Mind you, most hearses set out on trips that aver­age only ten miles (unless you shuck your mortal coil in New York City, where it is a 100-mile run to find someplace to plant containers). And although the top speed of this vehicle is 111 mph, it is rarely achieved in the midst of a funeral proces­sion, because it agitates the bereaved. Despite its Titanic size, Superior’s Cadillac hearse is not a bad thing to drive in a straight line, given its power and flawlessly smooth four-speed 4L60-E trans­mission. The tall, vinyl-wrapped roof cap resonates beyond 75 mph, however, and the front seat offers the lateral support of a canvas park bench. The biggest dynamic drawback is steering that sets new stan­dards in numbness and encourages you to spin the tiller of this land-locked yacht with one digit. Superior’s attention to detail here is nonetheless superb. The panel that usually encases four electric window lifts, for instance, now holds only two, but the plate behind the switches is fabricated to look original. The company fashions these cus­tom trim bits so perfectly that you have to be told what’s been modified. Cadillac has such faith in Superior that it allows the hearses to be adorned in any location—­the base of the all-new A-pillars, for example—with the marque’s traditional crossed-wreath crests. The replacements for the rear side doors are custom-made in steel by Supe­rior—using a three-story, 800-ton press­—and are fitted with custom glass that is 42 inches long. Both are fitted with Superior’s own side-impact beams, even though no living soul will ride behind these rear doors (the only rider back there is, ah, no longer deeply concerned about injuries). The fuel-­filler neck, all the way to the tank, is pro­tected by a series of fiberglass boxes, to avoid spillage if the hearse should turn turtle. (In fact, Superior installs massive roof-rail tie pillars that, asserts Cuzzocrea, “make it far better in a rollover than a stan­dard Fleetwood.”) And the company crash-tests its hearses at the Transporta­tion Research Center in Ohio. The mirror-like chrome rocker sills are uninterrupted, fashioned by Superior in absolute straight-and-true sheets. The grille is enlarged for looks. The rearmost load­ing door is something to behold: it is 45 inches wide—allegedly the widest in the hearse biz—and custom-stamped in glass­-smooth steel. The door is mounted on two gigantic precision-tooled hinges and encased in stainless-steel doorjambs. It swings open an amazing 125 degrees (to avoid hernias, the pallbearers on the door side must get as close to the rear bumper as possible), it opens from the left or the right, your choice, and it slams shut, appro­priately, with the vault-like finality of a Mosler safe. It may be death’s door, but it’s beautifully assembled. All of the upholstery, from the carpet to the headliner, is identical to Cadillac’s and is stitched as flawlessly as that in a BMW M5. The rub­ber seals inside the doors and windows are all of Superior’s own design. Electro-gal­vanized steel is used from the beltline down and for all exposed metal surfaces. And the trim pieces around the taillights fit more snugly than Cadillac’s originals. All of which may explain Superior’s seven­-year/70,000-mile warranty, although, Cuz­zocrea points out, “It is common for a hearse to be in service for 15 years.” The finish on every Superior surface, whether steel or fiberglass, includes eleven coats of primer and paint and is glossier than on the stock Cadillac. While I was touring the production line (on which 92 cars were aborning right then), a worker furiously sanded the paint on an original fuel-filler flap—even though it was the same color as the rest of the car—because he couldn’t abide Cadillac’s factory-­sprayed orange peel. Speaking of color, only 50 percent of today’s hearses are painted black, a color that evidently lends gratuitous somberness to an already dark event. The second most common choice is white, with gold, dark green, silver, and burgundy not far behind. Cuzzocrea’s favorites are “calypso green and baby blue.”What you don’t so readily see on Supe­rior’s hearses are the subtle touches that save the funeral director from embarrass­ment. “One director locked himself in the container area,” says Cuzzocrea. This is a problem, because the rear side doors can­not be opened from inside, and access to the cockpit is denied by glass partitions. More Cadillac Reviews From the Archive”I mean, here’s this guy beating on the windows to get out,” he recalls. “After that, we installed a little button in the loading door—an emergency door release.” The inverse is also a problem. More than one funeral director has locked himself out of his hearse, a mortifying debacle at the cemetery. Thus, Superior cleverly crafts a hidey-hole inside the fuel-filler flap, in which is inserted a spare key. On the floor of the 114-inch-long con­tainer area are ten ten-inch-wide rubber rollers, each embedded in a block of chrome set atop the walnut flooring, which itself is supported from below by a tube-­steel cage welded to the car’s frame. You roll the casket (today they average seven feet in length) forward until it rams the two foremost bier pins, then insert a single bier pin at the rear, in any of eight different slots, depending on the deceased’s length. The rubber rollers, in theory, do an ade­quate job of keeping the casket from mov­ing laterally, unless, like us, you drive the hearse around a skidpad at tire-shredding speeds—an activity usually denied to Amer­ica’s funeral directors.The rear bumper is fitted with a custom stainless-steel center section to prevent scarring from dropped caskets, which Cuz­zocrea says “happens a lot.” And the cargo area is plumbed so that its atmosphere is exchanged every 120 seconds—not because the deceased may be emitting fetid odors but because the attendant floral arrangements atop the casket inevitably are. Immediately behind the front seat and under the casket area are two more secret compartments. The compartment behind the passenger seat is reserved for a “church truck”—the collapsible cart that transports the casket when the pallbearers run out of Gatorade. And hidden directly behind the driver is a full-sized spare tire, because it is unseemly to arrive at the cemetery riding atop a space-saver spare, which, in any event, isn’t real happy supporting 7200-pound-GVW vehicles anyway. Perhaps what is most significant about S&S Superior of Ohio is that it is an Amer­ican company that last year built (this is not a typo) 1005 hand-built cars and will this year export $1 million worth of vehi­cles to Japan. Not just customized cars, either, but what can arguably be called meticulously crafted new cars. “All I need is an engine and transmis­sion,” says Cuzzocrea. “Everything else—­frame, suspension, custom-stamped steel body, glass, upholstery—we can do our­selves. And as for quality of assembly, I’d put our stuff up against the final product of any big-time manufacturer.” I ask if Cuzzocrea could build the world’s greatest Cobras or replica GT40s. “In a heartbeat,” he replies. However, to keep Superior successful and productive another 71 years, what is principally required is the lack of a heart­beat. Yours and mine. Arrow pointing downArrow pointing downSpecificationsSpecifications
1994 Superior Crown Sovereign Cadillac hearseVehicle Type: front-engine, rear-wheel-drive, 3+1-passenger, 5-door wagon
PRICE
Base/As Tested: $67,650/$69,858
ENGINEpushrod V-8, iron block and heads, port fuel injectionDisplacement: 350 in3, 5733 cm3Power: 260 hp @ 5000 rpm Torque: 335 lb-ft @ 2400 rpm
TRANSMISSION4-speed automatic 
DIMENSIONS
Wheelbase: 152.5 inLength: 255.9 inCurb Weight: 5489 lb
C/D TEST RESULTS
60 mph: 9.1 sec1/4-Mile: 16.9 sec @ 83 mph100 mph: 27.2 secRolling Start, 5–60 mph: 9.1 secTop Speed (gov ltd): 111 mphBraking, 70–0 mph: 213 ftRoadholding, 300-ft Skidpad: 0.70 g 
C/D FUEL ECONOMY
Observed: 16 mpg
EPA FUEL ECONOMYCity: 14 mpg 
C/D TESTING EXPLAINED More

From the October 2023 issue of Car and Driver.There we were, that Vapor Blue Ford Mustang GT and me, at a Pasadena stoplight, windows down, waiting to enter a freeway. A black Tesla Model 3 rolled up alongside. The driver, in his late 20s, smiled at the Ford through an open window. “Nice,” he offered.”Thanks,” I said. “Wish it were mine. Just on loan.”A pause, followed by a gesture toward the Mustang’s dash, unsure. “Is that . . . a giant screen?”I blinked, wondering whether this was a setup. The Model 3’s touchscreen is famously humongous. The GT’s wide glass display, new for 2024 and as long as your arm, is more tasteful, but it still tumors off the dash like a hat on a hat. “Works fine,” I said, shrugging. “But looks tacked on, you know?”A shrug of his own, a friendly nod at his dash. “Yeah. Everyone’s doing it though, right? Kind of the standard now.”Change comes for everything, even cars that rarely change much. When the light turned green, we waved goodbye. I made a hard left onto a tight on-ramp, and the rear tires slithered a bit on exit, and there was a deeply satisfying blast to redline in first gear, the 5.0 spewing torque and brap as the San Gabriel Mountains behind arced skyward under golden light, and I found myself thinking not at all of pixels but definitely of why every person in America should want at least one V-8 Mustang and probably two or three, especially on blue-sky days in rolling land during what we’re told is the time of the petro-muscle sunset. HIGHS: A healthy shot of power, soul, and feedback in a budget-friendly package; rev-happy V-8; and (hallelujah!) a standard clutch pedal.Then, naturally, we came to a screeching halt in stop-and-go traffic. Southern California: great but imperfect, as ever. And a new Mustang for 2024, the sixth major revamp in 60 years, same-same. Greg Pajo|Car and DriverGreg Pajo|Car and DriverBig changes matter with cars like this, but small ones can matter more. Months back, when Ford unveiled that glassy cockpit, with a 13.2-inch infotainment touchscreen and a 12.4-inch digital instrument cluster, loyalists scowled; Mustangs had never worn anything like it. Gone was the old double-brow dash, a family hallmark. Other details are more critical. Ford calls the new platform S650. It’s a moderate update of the outgoing Mustang, the S550, which first met dealers for 2015. Just as last year, there are three variants: the EcoBoost turbo 2.3-liter four, the 5.0-liter V-8 GT, and the track-focused GT-based Dark Horse. Key updates include a bit more power, a stiffer structure, a retuned suspension, and a quicker ratio for the electrically assisted power steering, from 16.0:1 to 15.5:1. The vacuum-operated brake booster gets replaced by an electronic unit that’s a bit grabby at parking-lot speeds but otherwise nicely transparent.Cosmetically, little carries over. The new styling is essentially S550 with less fillip and more sneer. The taillights and trunklid now form a concave V deep enough to hold shadow in daylight. The net effect is a car that looks smaller but isn’t. The GT receives a larger and more fish-mouthed grille than the EcoBoost, as well as hood extractor vents. In coupe form (a convertible remains available), the new GT is as wide as the old but 0.9 inch longer and 0.7 inch taller, its wheelbase 0.1 inch shorter. Our manual-equipped Premium GT with the Performance package crosses the scales at 3947 pounds, 69 pounds heavier than an identically equipped S550. Thank all that is Henry—that six-speed manual remains standard. A 10-speed automatic is a $1595 option that comes with remote start and the ability to rev the engine from the key fob. The GT badge has long represented peak Mustang bang for buck, but inflation is real. To the $44,090 base price, our test car added the $4995 GT Performance package, which includes larger Brembo brakes, Pirelli P Zero PZ4 summer rubber, and a 3.73:1 Torsen limited-slip rear axle. We also got the GT Premium package, Equipment Group 401A High (upgraded interior materials, 12-speaker Bang & Olufsen stereo, Co-Pilot Assist+), Recaro seats, the Mustang Nite Pony pack (black mirrors, badges, 19-inch wheels), magnetorheological dampers, the active performance exhaust, and floor mats. The total: $62,425. Reasonable for today’s market, given what those options bring. Still, don’t Google what a 2015 Mustang GT cost new unless you need a good cry. LOWS: Not a ground-up redesign; enthusiast options add up quickly; try-hard dash screen doesn’t fit the vibe.Eight cylinders are a tradition here, going back to the ’60s. The double-overhead-cam, 32-valve Coyote V-8 is a light revision of its former self, virtually identical in manner and appearance. The highlight is the addition of a second throttle body—the intakes now front the engine bay like a pair of fangs—and new exhaust cams to boot. The result is more power, 480 horsepower at 7150 rpm, to be exact. Add the performance exhaust, and the GT’s output rises to 486 horses at 7250 rpm. The torque peak—415 pound-feet, or 418 with the active exhaust—arrives at 4900. This is, of course, on 93 octane. The Coyote has always had a divisive sound: low-end burble, barky midrange, and raspy, rat-a-tat hammer up top. This one is no different, boasting the trademark creamy response and smooth wave of torque. It’s happier at high rpm than its forebear and unhappy nowhere. The theme here is balance, a hallmark of the best modern Mustangs, no component outweighing another. As with the S550, blasting around town feels like an event. The manual is easy to be smooth with. Back roads and fast freeways fall into a rhythm. The car is comfy when loping along and predictable when wrung out. If you use that digital display (or the steering-wheel buttons) to play with the drive modes, you will find that the interface is intuitive, and also that those modes make a difference. In steering feel, Normal is fine, if boring and effort-light. Track brings more self-centering but occasional woolliness under load. Sport is the most naturally weighted. Suspension adjustments in those modes are similar, taking advantage of the dampers’ talent for compromise: Track is workable for imperfect two-lanes but too stiff for maintaining high speeds, trading cohesion for response. Normal adds a smidge of ride comfort but can take impractically long to settle the body in quick transitions. Sport is just right for fast road use, precise and compliant. Drag is, well, for drag racing.While on that topic, launch control is available, and no-lift shifting is new to the GT. To extract maximum performance, don’t use either. By taking matters into our own hands, we saw a 4.2-second sprint to 60 mph and a 12.5-second quarter-mile at 114 mph, or roughly the same as the previous generation’s performance. The GT held to the skidpad with a 0.99-g average, and stops took 153 feet from 70 mph and 312 feet from 100 mph. Other strengths and weaknesses recall the outgoing Mustang: all-day highway comfort and stability that won’t put you to sleep, fit-everyone stock seats that are a tad too spongy on a winding canyon road, a trunk that’s sizable, a rear seat that’s useful only for short trips or children. The refreshed interior features more soft-touch materials, though the plastic rear shelf still throws an annoying reflection onto the back glass, glaring out traffic in the rearview.Rationally speaking, most people don’t need a $62,425 Mustang GT. They do not ache for all-singing, all-dancing dampers or a Torsen’s creamy corner exit, and deleting those options saves big cash while losing little. Yet machines like this are bought mostly on emotion, and those parts deliver more of it. Trying them makes you want to hunt fancy German cars in the hills until your face hurts from grinning. So equipped, the Ford lands that best of all fast-car tricks: It somehow produces the feeling that you’re doing everything right.More on the Mustang!Pixel cancer, the faithful will grumble. And not a redesign from the ground up—valid complaints. But how many new cars of this ilk remain? How many do this much this well, with this much character and history, for this price or less?VERDICT: Imperfect but still a stout dose of that old-time rock ‘n’ roll.A rear-drive, three-pedal, four-seat, V-8 pony car that’s new and big of heart, attainable, at home in commute or canyon, and more than the sum of its parts. Yes, please—forever, all day long. Sign us up.Arrow pointing downArrow pointing downSpecificationsSpecifications
2024 Ford Mustang GTVehicle Type: front-engine, rear-wheel-drive, 4-passenger, 2-door coupe
PRICE
Base/As Tested: $44,090/$62,425Options: GT Performance package, $4995; GT Premium package, $4520; Equipment Group 401A High package, $2900; MagneRide dampers, $1750; Recaro seats, $1650; active-valve performance exhaust, $1225; Mustang Nite Pony package, $1095; floor liners with carpet mats, $200
ENGINEDOHC 32-valve V-8, aluminum block and heads, port and direct fuel injectionDisplacement: 307 in3, 5038 cm3Power: 486 hp @ 7250 rpmTorque: 418 lb-ft @ 4900 rpm 
TRANSMISSION6-speed manual
CHASSIS
Suspension, F/R: struts/multilinkBrakes, F/R: 15.4-in vented disc/14.0-in vented discTires: Pirelli P Zero PZ4F: 255/40R-19 96YR: 275/40R-19 101Y
DIMENSIONS
Wheelbase: 107.0 inLength: 189.4 inWidth: 75.4 inHeight: 55.0 inPassenger Volume, F/R: 55/30 ft3Trunk Volume: 13 ft3Curb Weight: 3947 lb
C/D TEST RESULTS
60 mph: 4.2 sec100 mph: 9.5 sec1/4-Mile: 12.5 sec @ 114 mph130 mph: 16.5 sec150 mph: 23.5 secResults above omit 1-ft rollout of 0.3 sec.Rolling Start, 5–60 mph: 5.0 secTop Gear, 30–50 mph: 10.0 secTop Gear, 50–70 mph: 9.0 secTop Speed (gov ltd): 155 mphBraking, 70–0 mph: 153 ftBraking, 100–0 mph: 312 ftRoadholding, 300-ft Skidpad: 0.99 g 
C/D FUEL ECONOMY
Observed: 18 mpg75-mph Highway Driving: 24 mpg75-mph Highway Range: 380 mi 
EPA FUEL ECONOMY
Combined/City/Highway: 17/14/23 mpg 
C/D TESTING EXPLAINEDFreelanceSam Smith is a freelance journalist and former executive editor at Road & Track. His writing has appeared in Esquire and the New York Times, and he once drove a Japanese Dajiban around a track at speed while being purposely deafened by a recording of Taylor Swift’s “Shake It Off.” He lives in Tennessee with his family, a small collection of misfit vehicles, and a spaniel who is scared of squirrels. More

It is always brave to call the final result of any contest before it has ended. Yet it seems impossible that anything will beat Great Wall Motor Company’s Ora Funky Cat for the title of the most oddly named vehicle C/D will drive this year.This is no self-built special. The Funky Cat is an electric hatchback from China’s GWM, an automotive group that produced no fewer than 1.2 million vehicles last year and is in a joint venture with BMW to produce the next Mini EV hatchback. GWM subsidiaries include Havel, Wey, and the intriguingly named Tank—which, appropriately, makes nothing but boxy SUVs. Ora is an electric-only brand that gives its models feline names and is aimed at younger buyers. In the People’s Republic, our subject is the Haomao, or “Good Cat,” but when exported to Europe this cat gets to be Funky. The Funky Cat sits on what GWM calls its L.E.M.O.N. platform, an apparent (and unfortunate) acronym that isn’t explained in any greater detail on its corporate website. But don’t let the twee name and cutesy looks fool you. Beneath all that lies a generally well-engineered car, one that can compete with better-known rivals on range, performance, and—perhaps most important—price. Every Ora model gets retro styling, and compared to some of its siblings the Funky Cat’s slightly startled front end can be regarded as getting off lightly. It is no surprise to discover that credited designer Emanuel Derta formerly worked for Porsche; the chrome-ringed round headlights are reminiscent of the units found on early-1970s 911 Carreras. The Funky Cat’s design is positively restrained when compared to other Ora models—the Lightning Cat sedan looks like a proto-Panamera, and the Ballet Cat is a four-door take on the original Volkswagen Beetle.Seen from the side or rear the Funky Cat looks more modern, although its combination of curves and short overhangs makes it look smaller than it is; at 166.7 inches in length, this feline is only slightly larger than the last-generation Hyundai Kona EV. Inside, the five-seat cabin has decent space for occupants both front and rear, the design is unfussy, and materials seem upmarket enough. The old-school theme extends to chrome-effect switchgear and pleated trim that wouldn’t feel out of place in a 1960s sports car. This is pleather rather than leather, but it still feels convincing once that secret is known. Disappointingly, the metal switches feel insubstantial when operated, as does the rotary R/N/D direction selector, but your fingers need to explore the lower reaches of the dashboard and seat bases to find any cheap-feeling plastics.The Ora has two 10.3-inch landscape-oriented displays—one a digital instrument cluster, the other a touch-sensitive control screen—but the interface isn’t the snappiest to operate.All European-market Funky Cats feature a single 169-hp motor turning the front wheels that draws energy from a lithium-iron-phosphate battery with an estimated 43.0 kilowatt-hours of usable capacity (a larger pack with an estimated 57.0 kilowatt-hours is optional, but we have yet to drive that setup). Under Europe’s optimistic WLTP protocol, the standard pack has an estimated range of 193 miles, or approximately 164 miles in EPA methodology. One weakness is fast-charging, as the Funky Cat only supports DC fast-charge rates up to 80 kilowatts, well below punchier rivals. On the plus side, it is lighter than most similarly sized alternatives, with the smaller-pack car weighing 3395 pounds by Ora’s measurements. Performance feels strong for a junior EV. Off the line, the Funky Cat can be made to chirp its front tires on dry asphalt, the traction control taking a laid-back approach to intervention. Acceleration stays brisk until around 60 mph, tailing off rapidly above that. Ora quotes 8.3 seconds to reach 62 mph, but it feels subjectively quicker. Past 70 mph, the car seems to hit a half-life curve, with each successive 10-mph increment taking twice as long as the last to arrive; confirming the 99-mph limiter would require both patience and a longer straight than we could find on our German test route. (No, we didn’t go onto the autobahn.)Refinement is good at gentle speeds, with a soft suspension pillowing urban bumps. But wind and tire noise build quickly with velocity, and when traveling faster over rough roads there was the occasional sense of floatiness, the Funky Cat feeling under-damped. Grip levels proved reasonable, but there was no joy to be found in trying to push the limits of adhesion amid early-onset understeer and a lack of feedback. The inconsistent regenerative braking also added to the sense of dynamic disconnect, taking awhile to build resistance after the accelerator was lifted.But the biggest distraction from the cabin’s calm was a multitude of beeps and alarms. The Funky Cat has a speed-monitoring system that pings every time the car goes above a posted speed limit, even by a single mph. The lane-keep assistant chimes if it feels the car is straying from its lane, eventually intervening further with aggressive self-steering. A driver-monitoring system adds yet further admonishment if it thinks the pilot’s attention is wandering. Deactivating these is an awkward, multi-stage process, and the lane-keep system frustratingly defaults to on with each restart. More Compact EVsThe standard fitment of these systems—as well as active cruise control and blind-spot monitoring—seems to be one of the primary reasons the Funky Cat achieved a class-leading score in the Euro NCAP safety ratings. But in our experience, Ora added what felt like an unsafe level of distraction.GWM OraFor European buyers the Funky Cat’s most attractive detail is its price, with the standard version asking the equivalent of $35,700 in Germany before tax. That’s aggressive, but Volkswagen recently announced it is cutting the starting price of the face-lifted European-market ID.3 Pro—with 201 horses and a 58.0-kWh battery—to about $36K before tax. Yet Great Wall has plenty of room to respond with more aggressive cuts if it wants to. In China, the most basic version of the Good Cat, with the smaller battery and a 141-hp electric motor, costs just RMB 107,800 ($14,850). The Ora Funky Cat feels like it’s 90 percent of a car. The basics are all good, but the details still require more polish. Arrow pointing downArrow pointing downSpecificationsSpecifications
2023 GWM Ora Funky CatVehicle Type: front-motor, front-wheel-drive, 5-passenger, 4-door hatchback
PRICE (Germany)
Base: $35,700
POWERTRAIN
Motor: permanent-magnet synchronous AC, 169 hp, 184 lb-ft Battery Pack: liquid-cooled lithium-iron-phosphate, (C/D est) 43.0 kWhOnboard Charger: 6.6 kWPeak DC Fast-Charge Rate: 80 kWTransmission: direct-drive
DIMENSIONS
Wheelbase: 104.3 inLength: 166.7 inWidth: 71.9 inHeight: 63.1 inCargo Volume, Behind F/R: 30/8 ft3Curb Weight (C/D est): 3400 lb
PERFORMANCE (C/D EST)
60 mph: 7.5 sec1/4-Mile: 16.5 secTop Speed: 99 mph
EPA FUEL ECONOMY (C/D EST)
Range: 164 miSenior European CorrespondentOur man on the other side of the pond, Mike Duff lives in Britain but reports from across Europe, sometimes beyond. He has previously held staff roles on UK titles including CAR, Autocar and evo, but his own automotive tastes tend towards the Germanic, owning both a troublesome 987-generation Porsche Cayman S and a Mercedes 190E 2.5-16. More

From the April 1997 issue of Car and Driver.Various old-fogy automo­tive wankers are forever lamenting the demise of rattletrap roadsters—the kind that were around when the average guy could tell you who Neville Chamberlain was. Well, cheer up, graybeards, a few of these old-timer cars are still around. Caterham Cars of Cater­ham, England, produces a vari­ation of the original Lotus 7 that first appeared in 1957. When Lotus decided to stop producing the car in 1973, Caterham purchased the rights to produce the tiny English roadster. Today, Caterham offers two models for sale in kit form in the U.S.: the Supersprint and the Classic SE. Both cars use 1.6- or 1.7-liter carbureted Ford Cortina-based four­-cylinder engines that date back to the Sixties. The Supersprint has an independent rear suspension; the Classic makes do with a solid rear axle just like the original. It also eschews bucket seats in favor of a bench that stretches across the cockpit—­just like the original—with only the trans­mission tunnel and belts left to hold the driver in place. Plus, the smaller tires of the Classic are dwarfed by the car’s rear fenders. The aluminum covering the frame was polished (you can get it painted), and the fiberglass fenders and the nose cone were painted red.In 1982, Caterham lengthened the car by two inches to increase its legroom, but it’s still extremely tight inside. To get into this roadster, you first stand on the seat and then support your body on the roll bar and side sill as you slide your legs under the steering wheel. After a few tries, it becomes relatively easy, but there’s little room once you’re in there. Thankfully, the park­ing brake is located under the passenger-side dash so it doesn’t intrude. Footroom is also precious. In fact, this tester had to drive barefoot because his size ten­-and-a-half sneakers simply wouldn’t work—depressing the clutch meant applying the brake, too. But being cramped is part of the fun, right?The car weighs just 1124 pounds. Weight is the enemy of performance, and this car’s light weight makes for a truly energetic drive. Our test car’s 100-horsepower 1.6-liter motor did the 0-to-60-mph routine in 6.5 seconds, which beats both a Mazda Miata and a BMW Z3. The engine pulls cleanly right off idle, and a proper exhaust bark bellows right below your left ear. The only clue that there are carburetors meter­ing the fuel flow is the appearance of two air cleaners poking through a hole cut in the right side of the hood—or should we say “bonnet”? Besides that, the engine ran just as smoothly as a fuel-injected one during our fair-weather test. Skidpad grip is impressive at 0.91 g, but a tendency to lock the right front brake stretched out stops from 70 mph to 220 feet. My experience with old sports cars is limited to a couple of elderly Triumphs I once considered buying. After just a few miles in either the TR3 or the TR6, I walked away amazed that I was able to drive both for short trips without having to walk back—the cars felt ready to fail at any moment. The Caterham definitely looks like a vintage car, but somewhere along its evolution, it has lost that rattle­trap feel. You can accelerate hard, dive into corners, and mash the brakes with­out fear of imminent breakage. You find yourself hustling around and grinning a lot in this kooky-looking machine. The four-speed gearbox is pirated from a 1970s-vintage European Ford Escort. It’s perfect for the car. The lever is tiny—smaller than a Miata’s—and snicks into gears with an enormously satisfying mechanical feel that so few cars offer these days. More Caterham Content From the ArchiveEven though the car starts as a kit, you’d hardly know it when driving. The frame is strengthened by aluminum honeycomb panels that are riveted to its sides, and the result is an impressively stiff car. No rattles or squeaks accom­pany hard driving, which speaks volumes about the car’s quality. The kit for the car pictured here, which includes the engine, costs $23,500. A Caterham dealer will put it together for you for $2500. Doing it yourself is said to take about 50 hours. A 1.7-liter assembled Supersprint costs $33,000. Of the 700 Caterhams pro­duced each year, only 50 make it across the pond, and that has created the cur­rent 16-week waiting list.Did we have fun driving the Classic? Yes, but probably not as much as guys old enough to remember Neville Chamberlain.Arrow pointing downArrow pointing downSpecificationsSpecifications
1997 Caterham Classic SEVehicle Type: front-engine, rear-wheel-drive, 2-passenger, 2-door convertible
PRICE
Base/As Tested: $26,000/$26,000
ENGINEpushrod 8-valve inline-4, iron block and headDisplacement: 98 in3, 1599 cm3Power: 100 hp @ 6000 rpmTorque: 100 lb-ft @ 4500 rpm 
TRANSMISSION4-speed manual 
DIMENSIONS
Wheelbase: 88.5 inLength: 133.0 inCurb Weight: 112.4 lb
C/D TEST RESULTS
60 mph: 6.5 sec1/4-Mile: 15.5 sec @ 84 mphRolling Start, 5–60 mph: 6.5 secBraking, 70–0 mph: 220 ftRoadholding, 100-ft Skidpad: 0.91 g 
C/D TESTING EXPLAINED More