Great cars don't come from a committee. Or practicality. Or from any ordinary common sense, really. Great cars come from single-minded devotion, a bit of neurodivergent hyperfixation, and a team given a long enough leash to define its mandate.

One of those great cars is the 2025 Hyundai Ioniq 5 N.

Even though it's built on the bones of a commuter electric SUV, the Ioniq 5 N is one of the best-handling, most well-rounded, and most interesting vehicles on sale today. It's a true driver's car that prioritizes fun and feel over lap times. 

The I5N exists within a fascinating context. The fear was that EVs would be too heavy and bloated to make good performance cars, but even at 4,861 pounds, the Ioniq weighs the same as the brand new and (controversially) hybridized Mercedes C63S E Performance, and hundreds of pounds less than the latest BMW M5. Compared to the Mercedes, at least, the Hyundai is miles better to drive. 

But it still has one big flaw: You can’t take it on an aimless, meandering drive due to its severely compromised real-world range. That's a pretty big flaw. That problem could get fixed soon with a shiny new NACS connector, but I doubt it will ever be that simple.

In our latest video for the Motor1 YouTube channel, we explore the Ioniq 5 N in-depth, hosted by yours truly. Sit back and enjoy one of the most fascinating cars on sale today— sideways in a cloud of tire smoke.

More Motor1 Videos

So much of the conversation about EVs isn't about EVs. We owe much of this to Elon and identity politics, of course, but even with the political shellac stripped back, we rarely talk about EVs in the context of "normal" automobiles. 

The automakers are partly to blame. 

In a desperate bid to separate their EV lineup from "traditional" vehicles, most automakers divert from established norms. For example, Mercedes won’t simply sell you an EV that looks, feels, and drives like an E-Class. Instead, it builds the awful EQE. 

It’s a Mercedes sculpted by painfully generic "aero" body lines, wrapped around a dysfunctional interior. The EQE is an astonishingly fast vehicle that’s less joyful to ride than your dentist’s chair.

This is nearly an industry-wide phenomenon. Automakers think that because EVs use a fundamentally different means of propulsion that customers expect a fundamentally different driving experience.

What if, however, a company took its most-beloved model and did something different, preserving or even enhancing its road manners? 

Take BMW. What if it built a normal 3 Series sedan that happened to have some batteries in the floor? How would it drive? How would it function?

Excellently, in fact.

BMW calls this mid-size EV sedan the *deep breath* 2024 BMW i4 eDrive35 Gran Coupe. Effectively, it’s a classic 3 Series sedan with a liftback, saddled by some clunky nomenclature. 

That’s where the bad news ends. Once you hurdle the awkward naming conventions, you’ll find BMW has adhered to its older, better conventions.

Like every single 3 Series, the i4 GC looks great, drives pleasantly, and folds into daily life like it was borne into your own garage. During a week with the i4 Gran Coupe, I ran errands, suffered traffic, chased one sunset down a mountain backroad, and generally just lived with the car. The i4 didn’t misstep even once.

This is a great sedan, period. And even a great-looking one.

Pros: Quiet, Comfy, Quick

Despite riding on an EV “skateboard,” with batteries lining its belly, the i4 GC sticks with BMW’s classic sedan proportions. That means a long, low hood, with tight angles where they should be and swooping sections covering everything else. I still don’t love the gigantic buck-tooth grille, but painted in a dazzling silver called Dravit Grey Metallic ($1,500), the i4’s side profile and rear-three-quarter angles look spectacular (note the vehicle pictured here is the i4 edrive40 trim, slightly different to our hero car, but equally spectacular). None of this car’s proportions hint at electric propulsion. 

Especially the smartly appointed interior, which offers ample headroom, a large and usable trunk (aided by that hatchback glass), and just enough luxury and technology to show its driver where that lease payment is going every month.

Instead of visual gimmicks, BMW’s design department simply penned a nice-looking sedan from every angle, inside and out, and threw it to the engineering department to do the rest.

Beneath that finely tailored exterior, an 81.5-kilowatt lithium-ion battery pack powers a single rear motor producing 282 horsepower and 295 pound-feet of torque, all sent to the rear wheels.

This slug of power and the i4’s low-drag body amount to a combined 110 MPGe over a projected range of 252 miles. Over the course of my week in the i4, I used maybe a “half tank” of electrons. Never did I suffer range anxiety, though super commuters may get squeamish.

These are not industry-leading numbers for range or efficiency, but they were sufficient for my family’s needs. A simple nightly recharge would cover 95 percent of driving scenarios, and I suspect fit neatly into the lives of many suburban families shopping for a BMW sedan.  

If you don’t have the ability to charge this BMW in your garage overnight (a convenience that’s probably not considered enough), you’re better served by a gas-powered Bimmer.

BMW claims 5.8 seconds to 60 miles per hour, but from a few hard pulls up to interstate speeds, I’d say that figure’s pessimistic by a huge chunk. My old M3 hit 60 in about 5.5 seconds and this i4 would leave it for dead. From a dig, or on a highway pull, i4 will rip right up to its 118 mph top speed in moments.

Cons: Range, EV Infrastructure, Ugly Grille

Rather than beat you over the head with its EV-ness during those hard accelerations, BMW plays just a scooch of simulated powertrain noise over the i4 GC’s interior speakers. It’s one of the few pure EV gimmicks you’ll find here and the car can be spec’d without it. The sound is so subtle I preferred to keep it on, if only to pair some audio feedback with the snap of EV acceleration.

This BMW’s EV powertrain offers a traditional two-pedal driving routine, along with one-pedal driving as well. The latter option felt crisp and well-calibrated, with a snappy transition to braking when the go-fast pedal is released. The one-pedal system feels especially crisp but never distracting with the i4’s drive mode selector set to “Sport.”

I prefer the pedal sensitivity, steering weight, and suspension response of Sport. While I wish the Sport damping curve felt a bit more lax, you can imagine the amount of spring rate BMW had to throw at a vehicle this heavy to make it feel responsive, and the damping required to rein in this EV’s rebounding body.

Still, Sport offers the most-responsive calibration of each major chassis and powertrain system, livening the i4 GC from relaxed conveyance into a true Sport Sedan.

With a base price of $52,200, this eDrive35 trim offers the best value among the i4 range. It’s plenty quick for daily driving and backroad hustling, quick enough that I wouldn’t be tempted by more-expensive trims.

The M Sport package ($3100) feels like a must-have, owing to the adaptive suspension and gorgeous wheels, but I could leave everything else off the build sheet (though the Harman Kardon sound system would tempt me at $875, as would San Remo green paint ($650) and heated seats ($500)). 

That places the i4 eDrive 35 squarely in competitive territory, pitted against ICE sedans, hybrids, and EVs alike. But none of them offer the goldilocks mix of this BMW. 

Its gas-powered competitors are slower, less composed, and often have less badge equity. Hybrid cars doubly so. Other EVs will outpace this BMW for around $55,000, but none look as handsome and drive as nicely.

Lease deals on these cars keep getting sweeter. As a second vehicle to sit beside the gas-powered truck or SUV that already lives in your garage, it’s a deeply competitive offering from BMW. 

In that way, this new BMW is a lot like the old BMWs we love so much. It blends form with function, backs up its good looks with amenities, and pairs quick reflexes to superb road manners.

The i4 eDrive 35 Gran Coupe is a great BMW sedan. It’s also an EV.

Competitors

More BMW Reviews

Over the past decades, the big three German luxury brands have injected an unhealthy amount of sportiness into even their most-relaxed models. Even German people movers have an overly stiff suspension and incredibly quick steering, offering buyers a sense of performance in a car they’ll be driving back and forth to work.

This stuff belongs on M cars and AMGs, yes, but for the rest of them, comfort and luxury should be the priority. Going by my few days behind the wheel of the CLE convertible, it seems Mercedes-Benz has yet to lose the plot.

The CLE is a brand-new car in the Mercedes lineup, launched last year to fill the gap left by the discontinued C-Class and E-Class coupes. As such, it’s sized to fit between the two cars—not quite as big as an E-Class, but not quite as small as a C-Class. At 4,486 pounds, it’s no lightweight. But that doesn’t harm this car’s luxury intentions. And with 375 horsepower and 369 pound-feet on tap from the hybrid straight-six under the hood, there’s no shortage of forward thrust.

The CLE450 I tested puts power to the ground through a nine-speed automatic and standard 4Matic all-wheel drive. The 48-volt hybrid system is best appreciated in low-speed, stop-and-go situations. It delivers an instant punch of torque fill while the turbo spools. Climb the rev range and you’re treated to a linear, appropriate level of acceleration—it’s nothing particularly explosive, but considering this isn’t an AMG, it’s fitting.

That extra kick of electric power comes courtesy of an integrated starter-generator (ISG) sandwiched between the engine and the transmission, capable of 23 hp and 151 lb-ft on its own. Power arrives as smooth and unobtrusive as it was when I first experienced this powertrain back in 2019, behind the wheel of the then-new AMG E53 sedan. The only difference here is a strangely audible exhaust note coming from the rear of the CLE. I could understand the overstated tone if this were an AMG-badged car, but it’s not. And while straight-sixes usually produce nice sounds, this one sounded weirdly droney and unpleasant.

Pros: Luxurious Demeanor, Good Looks, Snappy Hybrid Drive.

At least the CLE looks good. From what I can tell, the front end shares more with the C-Class, while the rear borrows from the E-Class. Despite the mismatch of designs, it all comes together into a cohesive package with good proportions. The bright red cloth top wouldn’t be my first choice, but I’d definitely stick with the red leather interior, a $1,620 option. Visibility is good even with the top up thanks to the relatively large rear quarter glass, though the belt line is incredibly high, so don’t expect to be able to comfortably lean your elbow out the window.

Like every new Mercedes, the CLE’s cabin is a lovely space to spend time, with a minimalist dashboard design and a set of extremely comfortable, highly adjustable seats. Unfortunately, almost everything—including lumbar, bolster, and massage functions—is operated via the gigantic 11.9-inch portrait touchscreen. Even worse, the steering wheel controls are entirely touch-capacitive and require light swipes for things like volume and cruise control adjustments. Even the main volume rocker is touch-operated. A few more real buttons would be nice, Mercedes.

Where the CLE succeeds most is in its mission as a luxury cruiser. The steering feels smooth and light, while the suspension produces a soft and compliant ride. The brake pedal tuning makes it easy to bring the car to a linear, controlled stop, while the throttle encourages calm takeoffs. There’s no hint of sportiness here. It’s all geared toward a pleasant, laid-back experience meant for real, day-to-day driving scenarios. Exactly how it should be.

The only sporting intention you’ll find on the CLE450 is the Sport drive mode, which doesn’t change much aside from the throttle response. This is the type of car that encourages you to lay back and glide leisurely to your destination, massage seats on full blast. Sure, it’ll go fast and handle corners well enough, but it’s clear that’s not the point of this car, nor should it be. 

While I haven’t driven the CLE’s main competitor, the BMW 4 Series convertible, I have driven the coupe variant. As a daily driver, I prefer the Benz’s general attitude and its stellar seats. It looks far nicer, too. But the BMW has a more logical interior layout that includes a real volume knob. And if you’re the type who likes to use your daily as an occasional fun car, the M440i has a far more characterful powertrain. If it were my only car, I’d probably have the BMW. But if I had a fun car for the weekends, I’d buy the Mercedes.

Cons: Touch-Capacitive Controls Are Bad, Engine Can Sound Weirdly Droney

The CLE450 starts at exactly $75,000 including destination. For that, you get a healthy amount of standard equipment, including a Burmester sound system, heated front seats, and the company’s nifty “Airscarf,” which pushes warm air onto the back of your neck through the seat, so you can enjoy an open-top experience even when it’s cold outside.

Our tester came with about 10 grand in options, including an Alpine Grey paint job ($1,750), a 360-degree surround view system ($600), 20-inch wheels ($850), a head-up display ($1,100), seat massaging ($950) and seat ventilation ($450). Of those, the seating upgrades are the only must-haves. During my time with the car, the seat ventilation was always on full blast; it’s a savior on hot, nice days when you just want to cruise with the top down.

The CLE convertible is proof luxury brands don’t have to lean into sportiness to move product. Delivering a supremely comfortable, pleasant driving experience can be equally impressive if it’s done right. And this car nails the brief for a reasonable price.

Competitors

More on the CLE

The 2024 Kia EV9 is one of the only mainstream three-row EVs you can get, and it gets the basics right. This SUV is efficient, charges quickly thanks to a high-voltage architecture, and is extremely comfortable even full of people. Just on that basis, it’s a good buy.

There are a lot of little things that could be polished, however. The ride could use work, the charging is fast but not without hiccups (unrelated to charging infrastructure), and the interior—while packed full of amenities—lacks a premium touch in terms of look and feel. 

Ultimately, it’s not enough to dissuade a respective buyer from going all-in, but if it were my $78,430 to spend, I might wait for the facelift in a few years.

The Bad

Let’s get the bad stuff out of the way first, because the foibles were enough to dampen what was otherwise a very pleasant experience.

I drove nearly 1,000 miles in the EV9, and three out of the four times I charged it, the car didn’t want to shift into drive or reverse afterward, which was frustrating. At first, I thought it was because the battery had overheated, although talking with Kia, I realized that was not the case. More likely, it was a user error on my part, which, in my opinion, seems more like a design failure than my own incompetence (although don’t put that past me.)

If I sat in the car while it was charging with the AC on, a red battery icon showed up on the dash after I unplugged the vehicle. It looked exactly the same as if the 12-volt battery in a normal car had a fault. There was no message in the infotainment telling me what to do—I just couldn't shift into drive or reverse. After cycling the car’s power several times (thankfully, the EV9 still has a physical on/off switch, unlike many other EVs), eventually it came back to life. Each time I was stuck in the charging stall for around five minutes, unsure of what to do.

Speaking to a Kia representative, it seemed like using the vehicle’s systems (AC, infotainment, etc.), while the car is charging puts it into "accessory mode," which makes it unable to shift into drive or reverse. An extra tap on the brake pedal would’ve allegedly taken me out of this mode, but that was definitely something I tried. Maybe I didn’t have the process going in the right order, but needless to say, if you’re charging your EV9 it might just be best to turn the car off and get out to avoid any frustration.

The other foibles were pretty minor by comparison. The main functions of the center display are accessible via a series of capacitive buttons on the dash that require a hard press to activate, compressing the hard plastic they’re embedded in. It feels and sounds bad. The menus also have a small but nevertheless annoying amount of lag, and they’re not organized well. 

At high speeds, the ride is poor. Despite having fully independent suspension, the EV9 judders over broken pavement on the highway like a pickup truck. Smaller wheels and tires, at least smaller than the 20-inch alloys on this tester, would do it favors. To be clear, though, this ride characteristic is a feature of many electric vehicles, especially crossovers and SUVs. It’s not unique to the EV9.

The Good

The good things were momentous in comparison, especially if you frequently carry a lot of people around. 

The seats in the EV9 are a step above almost anything I’ve driven, including the six-figure Mercedes-Benz EQS, the Cadillac Escalade, and even the Kia Carnival—a very plush minivan with similar features but not nearly the same level of comfort. Either of the two highest EV9 trims can be specced with eight-way adjustable second-row captain chairs, which are heated and ventilated (a second-row bench is standard). The driver and passenger get the same treatment, with the addition of a massage feature for the driver.

Using the seats' heating/cooling function instead of the regular HVAC will save you a fair amount of range, as the car’s energy consumption menu clearly shows. Range fluctuations of 5 to 10 miles are possible on hot days if you use the car’s heat pump. That said, the EV9 is efficient even if you’re not micromanaging it. 

I averaged over three miles per kWh over the hundreds of miles I drove, which puts its realistic range easily above its EPA estimate of 280 miles. Indeed, it’s even better than the smaller two-row Cadillac Lyriq I drove earlier this year, though that car was driven during an especially chilly and rainy New England winter.

In other words, the EV9 can go the distance, at least with the larger battery. According to the EPA, the standard battery on the EV9 will take you just 230 miles. Opting for rear-wheel drive versus all-wheel drive will likewise net you more range, although that’s a luxury some buyers will doubtlessly think twice about giving up.

AWD also unlocks the EV9’s full performance. The base RWD car gets just 215 horsepower, which is not a lot for an SUV that weighs in at just over 5,000 pounds. AWD EV9s are heavier at around 5,700 lbs, but they get a dual motor setup good for 379 hp, which is more than enough for a family SUV.

The competition, especially from America, will pick up in short order, though. On the higher end, Lucid will soon start production of its three-row Gravity SUV. It will be more expensive than the EV9, but it will charge faster and go much further. Likely over 400 miles. The Cadillac Vistiq will also arrive next year as a 2026 model-year vehicle. Its range will be very similar to the Kia’s, and using the Lyriq’s and Optiq’s excellent interior as a reference, it could be even more pleasant inside.

Even with some imminent competition on the horizon, though, the EV9 is a solid option for people who want to go electric but need room for seven or more people. Sure, there are a lot of little things that could use some work, but the overall package is impressive. Despite being the first electric three-row out there, it will doubtlessly be a strong competitor in the growing segment.

More On The EV9

I'm a simple guy who likes simple things, and the 2025 Volkswagen Jetta GLI is the type of car that tickles every part of my lizard brain. Driving the updated GLI for the last week, I've had to remember that drive modes other than Sport exist—especially with passengers in the car.

With VW's turbocharged 2.0-liter four-cylinder EA888 engine under the hood, the GLI still makes 228 horsepower and 258 pound-feet of torque—the same as last year. It's enough power to engage the car's stability at launch or traction control through a corner, with the limited-slip differential helping sort it all out.

The 2025 GLI is the only Jetta available with a six-speed manual. My test car had the seven-speed dual-clutch automatic with paddle shifters instead, which was fine. It's the gearbox that about 70 percent of GLI customers opt for, anyway.

Sport Mode awakens the throttle response, stiffens the standard Dynamic Chassis Control adaptive dampers, increases the sound of the exhaust note inside the cabin, and holds the revs high in anticipation of your right foot. Never once did I feel the transmission shift up a gear too early, and it's always eager to shift down when needed. It enhances all the noises I love to hear, too—sorry, neighbors.

Normal, Comfort, and Eco Modes still work as advertised, taming the suspension, throttle response, and exhaust note. Your passengers will appreciate them, but I barely remember they existed when I laid into the throttle, soaking up the sound of the turbo and waiting for the pops and burbles from the exhaust. Even if the piped-in engine noise is a bit raspy, it's still awesome.

Pros: Punchy Turbocharged Engine, Awesome Sport Mode, Practical

VW only made minor updates to the exterior of the Jetta line, including the GLI, for 2025. It has a revised fascia and a few new wheel options, with the GLI getting a fresh 18-inch wheel design and a light-bar grille. The most significant changes are inside.

The Climatronic Touch automatic climate controls are now standard across the entire Jetta range. The lack of tactile buttons or switches forces you to take your eyes off the road when adjusting the HVAC, and even though there are indentations for the temperature and fan speed controls, they're not defined enough to instill much confidence when reaching for them.

And even if you do put your finger in the right places, it’s hard to tell what you’re accomplishing without looking at the sliders. But I don’t despise using them like I thought I would. Being able to slide your finger across a capacitive touch surface is neat, but taking your eyes off the road to do it is not.

The glossy buttons on the steering wheel aren’t as frustrating to use, but Volkswagen is moving away from that wheel design in the GLI. The Jetta also gets the free-standing 8.0-inch infotainment screen in the redesigned instrument panel, which is big enough for the sedan, but I did find myself accidentally switching between screens when reaching for the small-ish volume knob. The tweaked interior is nice, but the cabin is starting to feel dated in this competitive segment.

Cons: Clunky Touch Controls, No Rear Vents, Starting To Feel Dated

Volkswagen didn’t rewrite the Jetta’s formula for 2025. Not that it needed to. This is the seventh-generation sedan’s second refresh since 2018, and the GLI remains an engaging, practical sedan with a turbocharged engine tuned for affordable fun.

The car seats five, has a spacious trunk (compared to the Mustang my family fills up every week grocery shopping), and comes equipped with drive modes your mother will love, all for just $33,940 with the $1,225 destination fee included. There’s no need to spend $50,000 on a boring crossover when this thing exists, and you can bomb down suburban streets like a menace without getting yourself into ticket territory.

Buyers will only have two choices when purchasing the new GLI: Picking their transmission and deciding whether to add the $650 Black Package. Both the manual and automatic-equipped GLIs have the same starting price. The regular Jetta is cheaper to start for 2025, at $23,220. The updated Jetta and Jetta GLI will go on sale toward the end of the third quarter this year.

Competitors

Competitor Reviews

Toyota didn't need to fix the Camry. It's been the best-selling sedan in America for more than a decade and is on pace for another stellar year. But even a vehicle as popular as the Camry deserves an update now and then. Thankfully, Toyota maintained the formula.

The 2025 Toyota Camry is just as excellent as its predecessor—slightly better in a few key areas, even. A sharp redesign makes it look more modern, an updated interior adds some much-needed technology, and its hybrid-only lineup means the mid-size sedan is more efficient than ever.

Under the hood is Toyota's fifth-generation hybrid system, which combines a 2.5-liter four-cylinder engine with battery assist. The powertrain makes 225 horsepower with the front-wheel-drive setup and 232 horsepower with all-wheel drive. I tested the latter option—a fully loaded XSE with AWD. It's paired to an electronic continuously variable transmission and returns up to 51 miles per gallon combined on the base LE model with front-wheel drive. This XSE AWD gets 44 MPG combined.

Toyota's hybrid system, with its battery-aided torque, gives the Camry quick and smooth acceleration off the line. The four-cylinder engine runs a high compression ratio of 14.0:1, which keeps the Camry powerful still at highway speeds. You'll have no issue overtaking.

Although the Camry is no sports sedan (that is, until the next TRD version arrives), it has refined driving dynamics. The chassis is balanced, the suspension compliant, and the steering feels responsive. It's comfortable, too. Apart from some engine droning, especially when you get on the accelerator pedal hard—to be expected with most hybrid powertrains—the Camry is quiet, refined, and easygoing. It's an excellent appliance for puttering around the city.

This XSE model comes standard with real leather-trimmed chairs, leather-lined door panels, and power-adjustable heated seats. The $4,075 Premium Plus package adds seating ventilation (plus a bevy of other features). A 12.3-inch digital instrument cluster sits behind the steering wheel and an adjacent 12.3-inch touchscreen graces the center of the dash.

Pros: Sharp New Design, Huge Tech Improvements, Nice To Drive, Premium Interior

Senior Editor Chris Perkins had complaints about the interior quality of other trims, but this XSE is pretty fancy. The perforated leather is lush and comfortable, the ride is quiet (apart from that droning engine), and the dual 12.3-inch screens are a welcomed upgrade over the previous Camry.

The infotainment screen runs Toyota's latest interface, which is a joy to use. It's clean, concise, and easy to navigate. Touch responsiveness is also on par with any modern smartphone. The Camry XSE also comes standard with wireless Apple CarPlay and Android Auto, as well as wireless phone charging.

Design-wise, the cabin benefits from a host of aesthetic upgrades. A shiny piece of black plastic houses the central touchscreen and extends to the passenger side with a flowing horizontal design. Usually shiny black plastic looks bad, but here it adds some much-needed visual width to the Camry’s cabin. Aluminum accents line the dash and door panels, and matte black plastic covers most of the high-traffic areas. It all looks and feels lovely.

But the big visual draw is the Camry’s exterior. Toyota added bold design elements on the front end like a huge honeycomb grille, angular horizontal vents, a sharp hood line, and curvy headlights. In the rear, it has curvy taillights too, a “CAMRY” wordmark, a subtle spoiler, and dual exhaust tips on this XSE model. The new Camry looks great, honestly; It’s no longer just another anonymous mid-size sedan.

Every Camry comes standard with Toyota Safety Sense 3.0. That includes blind-spot monitoring, a rear cross-traffic alert, adaptive cruise control above 20 miles per hour, a lane-departure warning, road sign recognition, and more. But even on the XSE, you will have to shell out $4,075 for the Premium Plus package if you want adaptive cruise control with stop-and-go compatibility, as well as lane-change assist and a 360-degree overhead camera.

Cons: Pricey Safety Package, Occasional Engine Droning

Truthfully though, that extra safety equipment is worth the added costs. Adaptive cruise with traffic jam assist is a lifesaver in stop-and-go traffic. The steering assist is generous and—while not hands-free—requires less intervention from the driver. It makes long-distance highway cruising an absolute breeze.

A base 2025 Camry LE will cost you $29,495, while the XSE starts at $35,695, still a reasonable price for what Toyota offers. The XSE tested here costs $43,194, loaded with options—the priciest of which is that $4,075 Premium Plus package. On top of the safety features already mentioned, it also adds a nine-speaker JBL audio system, a panoramic glass roof, and a bit more. All-wheel drive is another $1,525 on top of that, these snazzy 19-inch wheels are $1,500, and the front accent lighting package is another $399.

But for a premium, well-equipped, nice-to-drive sedan for under $45,000, the 2025 Toyota Camry XSE feels like an absolute steal given the price of new cars these days. Outside of maybe the latest Honda Accord, there isn’t another car in the class that even comes close. The 2025 Toyota Camry is still the king of mid-size sedans.

Competitors

Competitor Reviews

The 2025 Chevrolet Equinox is aimed at someone like me: A dad with a growing kid who’ll soon be able to drive. The Equinox isn’t trying to be everything to everyone. Instead, Chevrolet attempts to broaden this SUV’s appeal with a new, rugged Activ trim and a fresh design.

The updated Equinox is enough—practical enough, safe enough, and powerful enough for parents to feel comfortable ferrying their kids to school before they're old enough to do so themselves, all without breaking the budget. What it lacks in performance (what did you expect from the 175-horsepower, turbocharged 1.5-liter four-cylinder?) the Equinox makes up for in safety and technology.

Chevy Safety Assist, which includes enhanced automatic emergency braking, front pedestrian and bicycle braking, forward collision alert, lane-keep assist with lane departure warning, and more, is standard equipment alongside a host of other safety tech. Rear park assist, adaptive cruise control, and reverse automatic braking are just some of the other goodies you get in the entry-level LT trim that starts at $29,995 (with the $1,395 destination charge included).

The RS and Activ trims start at $34,395. All three aforementioned trims are available with front-wheel drive and a continuously variable transmission, or all-wheel drive and a new eight-speed automatic. The Activ, with its 17-inch Continental all-terrain tires, felt the most adept at soaking up the bumps and potholes that littered the streets of Minneapolis when I drove it last week alongside the RS.

I thought the chunkier tires would have translated into more road noise in the cabin, but there was no audible difference between the Activ and the RS models. The 1.5-liter engine is the same as before, capable of scooting you into traffic or past a semi without hesitation, but don’t expect a kick in the butt when you slam the accelerator. You’re well aware of when the engine is working—just give it time to do its job.

Pros: Lots Of Standard Safety Tech, Value-Oriented, Improved Styling

The transmission has no trouble picking a cog despite the two additional forward gears, but the ‘box feels like it needs a moment to perform the necessary calculations before shifting. It’s like Chevy programmed the computer to measure twice and shift once. But once the ECU has decided what the transmission should do, it shifts quickly.

All-wheel-drive Equinox models get the added benefit of a new Off-Road mode, in addition to Normal and Snow modes. Off-Road mode allows more wheel spin and vehicle yaw, but the dirt road Chevy selected for us, with its 20-mile-per-hour posted speed limit, didn’t really allow for evaluating those claims. Not that I was expecting to scale a mountain in rural Minnesota.

The Equinox’s wider platform and all-new exterior design help give it a more workmanlike appearance, borrowing the squared-off wheel wells from the Silverado and Colorado. It also makes the rear opening slightly larger. Each trim has a unique fascia and bumper, with the Activ wearing the widest one. The two-tone white roof is available on the LT and Activ, while the black roof is an option on the LT and RS.

Inside, the Equinox Activ features Evotex faux leather and suede microfiber seating that feels premium enough for the price point. It’s soft and supple, like most of the important touchpoints inside the cabin. However, there’s also plenty of hard plastic on the forward door cards, pillars, and anywhere else you’d expect an automaker like Chevy to save a few pennies. Only the driver seat features an adjustable-height seatbelt.

Cons: Underwhelming Powertrain, Cheap Plastic In Spots, Lackluster Off-Road Trim

Chevrolet moved the shifter to the steering column, freeing up room in the center console for the oversized driving-mode selector that now sits behind a finicky wireless charging pad. Its upright, horizontal orientation made placing my phone in the right spot difficult, hampering charging.

The 11.0-inch driver’s display and 11.3-inch infotainment screen were large and easy to read, and the tactile HVAC controls underneath the central screen were easy to use. It was a breeze engaging the optional ventilated seats and keeping the automatic climate control set to Lo without looking away from the road.

The RS was the sportier of the two trims I drove, but only if you counted its looks. The flat-bottom steering wheel, red trim, and red and blue accent stitching evoked a racier aesthetic that did not translate to the driving experience. Cruising around felt unremarkable, but maybe that’s the point.

The new Equinox doesn’t get in the way of what you need it to do. It has an all-new design inside and out, but Chevy didn’t want to alienate the buyers who have made the Equinox the brand’s best-selling SUV. It has sold three million Equinoxes in 20 years, and I can't imagine buyers will shy away from this new one—they just have to pick the trim they like the best.

It might come wrapped in a new package, but it’s still the familiar Equinox underneath, and that’s very comforting to many buyers.

Competitors

Competitor Reviews

It’s hard to believe the Lincoln Aviator is already five years old. Credit the SUV’s handsome styling and posh interior, which really turned heads back in the day. Having almost 500 horsepower didn’t hurt, either, but much has changed in the world since then. You know what hasn’t changed much? The Lincoln Aviator.

While the Aviator receives a minor mid-cycle refresh for 2025, these updates aren’t nearly enough. Moreover, some of the changes feel like a step backward. And there’s still no high-output hybrid powertrain in sight after it was dropped in 2023. All in all, the updated Aviator does little to differentiate itself from its Ford Explorer vibes and asks a lot of buyers with its $91,575 as-tested price. And that’s not even the Aviator’s priciest spec.

Let’s do a quick review of what’s changed for 2025, starting with the Aviator’s face. The grille is larger, and by a hefty margin. It’s still rectangular, but it dips further down, meeting a redesigned lower fascia. Vertically oriented corner vents replace the simple horizontal vents and running lights of the outgoing model, and up top, the headlights are smaller. 

These changes produce a design less proportional and satisfying than it once was. Frankly, the 2025 Aviator is a set of split headlights away from looking like a BMW X7. This is an unfortunate consequence of sharing its chassis with the Ford Explorer, which also got a similar facelift for 2025. Sadly, there’s too much similarity between them for me to not see the Explorer’s gaping mouth when looking at the Lincoln.

Pros: Still Mostly Pretty, BlueCruise—Finally

This isn’t the only time I’ll toss a penalty flag for the Aviator’s too-close connection with the Explorer. Fortunately, the Lincoln remains as elegant in profile as ever, and the exterior tweaks—while a step backward in my opinion—aren’t a deal breaker. There’s still plenty of curb appeal here.

Changes to the interior are centered around a new 13.2-inch touchscreen. If that sounds familiar… yup you guessed it. The new Explorer has the same screen with the same Google Assistant tech and the same layout for its plethora of features. Admittedly I’m not a huge fan of Ford’s current infotainment systems, I find them a bit too complicated for simple tasks like adjusting temperature controls. Add extra components like massaging seats to the mix and interacting with the screen becomes even more distracting. However, it’s a system you can get used to without much difficulty, so again, not a deal breaker.

As with so many touchscreens, this Lincoln’s is mounted tablet-style on the dash. It’s a dated design trend that needs to disappear. A redesigned dash that combines the driver and center displays into a single screen is sorely needed here. At the very least, an integrated in-dash infotainment screen would distinguish the near-six-figure Lincoln from a $40,000 Explorer Active. The Mercedes-Benz GLE-Class has it. The BMW X5 has it. Audi has it. Genesis. The list goes on.

I’m not saying the Aviator’s interior is low-rent. The wood trim looks nice, and though I don’t really understand the weird square patterns scattered around the interior, they are a neat touch. The leather is soft, the seats sublime, and I’m always a sucker for a big ol’ power-operated moonroof. But the abundance of black trim looks and feels cheap. The chrome trim ends up feeling tacky as a result. And you may as well just fold the third-row seat and leave it there. Unless you’re regularly trucking around small kids, nobody will want to sit in the back.

Cons: Too Noisy, Dated Interior, Feels Like A Ford Explorer In A Suit

At least the Lincoln is supremely comfortable. The active suspension with Air Glide is blissful over rough roads, delivering a ride that’s decidedly soft but not overly isolated. Honestly, I never noticed it doing anything dramatic in any of the drive modes, and I consider that a plus in this context. The Aviator isn’t a hot rod Lincoln and nobody is going to treat it as such. Even if drivers dip into the 400-horsepower twin-turbocharged 3.0-liter V-6—still the only engine option—a pleasant rush of acceleration is all you’ll get. 

You’ll get reasonable fuel economy, too. EPA ratings list the Aviator at 17 city, 25 highway, and 20 combined. At 75 miles per hour on the highway, I bounced between 23 and 25 mpg, but running a bit slower on rural roads got me to 27. Can you do better in the 400-horsepower range? Yes, but not by much. And you won’t be taking 150-mile hands-free trips with BlueCruise in those competitors. Ford’s advanced Level 2 system is arguably the best in the business, and it’s standard equipment on the Black Label.

But even cruising on quiet highways where a luxury vehicle should shine, there are frustrating examples of cost-cutting. The wind and road noise is excessive, and the growl from the V-6 is loud under even modest throttle. I get the impression this powertrain is a direct swap from Ford with barely any refinement for the luxury brand. And then there are little things like non-adjustable second-row seatbelts, cutting uncomfortably across the necks of children and short adults. Really, Lincoln?

A few weeks prior to my long weekend with the Lincoln, I spent a day driving the 2025 Explorer. I really wanted to embrace the Aviator; even with the refreshed face, I think it's among the sharpest-looking mid-size SUVs on the market. But instead, I found it was really just a Ford Explorer wearing an expensive suit. Sharing platforms certainly isn’t new in the automotive world, all automakers do it to some degree. But this feels like the old days of badge engineering—minimum effort in hopes of maximum profit.

For what it’s worth, I still think the Aviator looks good. It just needs a good personality to match.

Competitors:

Competitor Reviews

The big trend right now is taking otherwise incapable SUVs and trying to make them appear more rugged. Slap on some tougher tires, tweak the ride, give it a not-so-clever name—and voila, an "off-road capable" SUV.

The 2024 Honda Passport TrailSport is no exception to the rule. It gets new badging, a tire upgrade, and some suspension tweaks that make it more "capable" than a traditional Passport. But, it's still not a vehicle you want to take regularly off the beaten path. Or, something you want to spend nearly $50,000 on.

Apart from its bright orange TrailSport badges, most upgrades to this Passport are hard to spot. Eighteen-inch General Grabber all-terrain tires replace the standard all-seasons. Passive dampers offer better compression for a softer ride on dirt roads. The spring rate drops by 15 percent up front and 10 percent in the rear. And Honda even ditched the hollow rear anti-roll bar for something more solid. The 8.1 inches of ground clearance is also pretty good.

The result? An SUV that is indeed more capable than a normal Passport, although, that's not exactly a high bar. The all-terrain tires offer more grip in low-traction situations—dirt roads, rocky trails, etc.—and the softer ride means you can bounce over ruts without breaking your back. A small dirt road feels like just enough for the Passport TrailSport.

The same 3.5-liter V-6 that powers the standard Passport carries over here, and it's… fine. The 280 horsepower and 262 pound-feet of torque move the Honda SUV out of its own way, but you'll have to bury your foot at higher speeds or on hillier roads to get the most out of this engine—there isn't a ton of torque at the ready. The nine-speed automatic is seamless, and all-wheel drive comes standard.

Pros: Good Looks, Comfortable Ride, Lots Of Space

Otherwise, the Passport is perfectly anonymous while pedaling around town. The steering is light, the softer suspension yields more on-road comfort, and the cabin is mostly quiet. Only when you hammer that V-6 (which sounds pretty good, by the way) do you get any obvious noise intrusion.

The standard leather-trimmed seats are downright cushy. Both front chairs are heated and ventilated, they have 10-way power adjustability, and of course, there's orange TrailSport stitching on the headrests. The back seat is roomy too, and since this is just a Pilot with one fewer row, there's a ton of cargo space. The 41.2 cubic feet behind the second row and 77.7 cubes with the back seat folded flat are better than anything in the segment. There's even a clever underfloor storage system with up to 50.5 cubic feet of room.

The Pilot is loaded with safety equipment as part of the brand's Honda Sensing suite, which comes standard on all Passport models. That includes features like adaptive cruise control, a lane departure warning, forward collision monitoring, and automatic emergency braking. The big issue is that adaptive cruise control doesn't come to a full stop; It only works at speeds of 19 miles per hour and above. And the lane-centering technology doesn't work as well as some other modern systems. The car ping-pongs in the lane.

The 8.0-inch touchscreen and 7.0-inch digital instrument cluster aren’t the most modern setup. The graphics look outdated, the touch responsiveness is slow. You still need a cord for Apple CarPlay and Android Auto.

Cons: Outdated Tech, Poor Fuel Efficiency, Weak Off-Road Upgrades, Pricey With Options

Maybe the Passport’s biggest ding is its fuel economy. The Passport only gets 19 miles per gallon city, 24 highway, and 21 combined with the now-standard all-wheel-drive system. Compare that to V-6, AWD alternatives like the Chevrolet Blazer (22/27/24) and the outdated Nissan Murano (20/28/23), and the Honda is easily the worst of the group.

But don’t worry, there’s a new Honda Passport on the way. Even though this 2024 model is nice to drive and looks good, it’s clearly a step behind the competition in a few key areas. It’s not nearly as tech-savvy nor as efficient as some of the alternatives, and for a “rugged” SUV, the upgrades are barely noticeable.

The 2024 Honda Passport isn’t a bad SUV if you’re paying the base price of $43,795. It’s comfortable and nice to drive. But the TrailSport is at least $46,395, and options will easily push that number close to $50,000. At that price, the Passport TrailSport isn’t the best option. Might be worth waiting for the new one to show up next year.

Competitor Reviews

More SUV Reviews

The Ford Bronco Sport is a Ford Bronco, but it's also not. It’s the mini Bronco, styled and named so that the big Bronco’s off-road reputation might help woo casual buyers. But that also makes you wonder: Is the Bronco Sport worthy of its name? 

The 2025 Ford Bronco Sport Sasquatch is here to prove that it is. 

The big Bronco is a hardcore off-roader that competes with the Jeep Wrangler. It rides on a modified version of the Ford Ranger’s body-on-frame platform, which makes it more flexible for off-roading. The Bronco Sport, meanwhile, is more about on-road driving. It doesn’t have all the fancy perks of the big Bronco, and it’s based on the unibody Escape crossover, which is more fuel-efficient and car-like.

For 2025, the Bronco Sport comes standard with four-wheel drive and an eight-speed automatic transmission. It also has five trims and two engine options: a 1.5-liter three-cylinder engine making 180 horsepower and 200 pound-feet of torque, and a 2.0-liter four-cylinder with 238 horsepower and 277 pound-feet. 

The Sasquatch off-road package makes its way from the big Bronco to the smaller Bronco Sport. It’s an optional add-on on the top-tier Outer Banks and Badlands trims for 2025, and it has features like a twin-clutch rear-drive unit, a locking rear differential, steel underbody protection, Bilstein rear shocks, and 29-inch all-terrain tires. 

Pros: Great Off-Road Hardware, Smart Software, Excellent Capabilities 

Those upgrades give the Bronco Sport Sasquatch 8.3 inches of suspension travel up front and 9.0 inches in the rear, and the ability to ford 23.6 inches of water. That’s pretty good compared to the big Bronco’s maximum wading depth of 33.5 inches. 

Ford hasn’t said how much the Sasquatch package will cost on the Bronco Sport, or how much the 2025 Bronco Sport will be. But in 2024, the base price for the Bronco Sport Outer Banks is $35,500, the Bronco Sport Badlands is $40,000, and on the big Bronco Badlands, the Sasquatch package costs a minimum of $5,000.

The 2025 Bronco Sport Sasquatch won’t be available until early next year, but Ford brought us out for a 15-minute drive on its new off-road course in Maryville, Tennessee. We were in pre-production cars on a course of Ford’s choosing—some dirt, mud, divots, and 20-degree tilts—but the Sasquatch still felt plenty capable. 

The Bronco Sport Sasquatch has seven drive modes: Normal, Eco, Sport, Slippery, Off-Road, Rally, and Rock Crawl. We only used three on this drive: Off-Road mostly, then both Rock Crawl and Rally briefly.

Rock Crawl locks the differential. The twin-clutch rear-drive unit has two clutch packs that control each rear wheel independently, allowing just one to propel the car if needed, and it can also act as a locking differential. Locking diffs are common on off-roaders, moving the wheels in lockstep instead of spinning the one with the least resistance, like an open differential would. 

The Sasquatch's dedicated Off-Road mode has a reserved throttle response for treks over bumpy terrain, while Rally mode makes the gas pedal more responsive for faster driving. Like any good modern off-roader, the Sport Sasquatch’s suspension absorbed bumps in Off-Road mode as they traveled up the car. I felt the uneven terrain in my legs, but it didn’t make my head chatter. It was comfortable even when the ground underneath it wasn’t. 

Cons: Absorbent Interior, Doesn't Look As Hardcore As It Could 

The car also had trail control (like cruise control, but for off-roading) and one-pedal driving, which are both meant to make crawling speeds less taxing by removing the need to undulate both pedals. Trail control hilariously starts at 1 mph, and one-pedal driving involves only using the accelerator to speed up and slow down the car.

As soon as you lift your foot off, the car will apply the brakes—and in these early models, the auto-braking felt like a stomp. I didn’t mind how strong it was, but when I asked, Ford didn’t say whether the final production one-pedal braking would be stronger, the same, or weaker.

The Bronco Sport Sasquatch had handy features like bash plates on the front and rear of the car, off-road cameras to show the terrain, recovery points on all four corners if you get stuck while off-roading, and handles near the side mirrors that Ford says are placed to avoid rubbing the paint with tie-down straps. But my favorite part was the gauge cluster. 

The Bronco Sport Sasquatch had a display in Off-Road mode that showed the angle of the car, so when I drove it on a big bump or dip, I could see just how tilted I was. I hit 20 degrees on a mud rut, and it’s a fun way to interact with the terrain. When you go home, you don’t just get to tell your friends you had your car sideways in a rut—you get to tell them you had it 20 degrees sideways. That’s way cooler. 

I didn’t have enough time in the Sasquatch to find problems with its driving, and I didn’t get to take it on the road—the place it’ll likely spend most of its time. But I did notice pain points inside. 

I sat in a Bronco Sport Badlands with a light gray interior, and all I could think about was mud. The Badlands had a light, cloth headliner that looked ready to absorb stains, and the seats had a light-colored cloth section around the shoulder blades that looked the same. The big Bronco can also be bought with a marine-grade vinyl interior and interior water-drainage system, but the baby Bronco doesn’t get that treatment (yet, at least). 

But even without all of the big Bronco's off-road features, the Bronco Sport Sasquatch is capable. It can do all the things a normal person wants it to, and it can also hang on the off-road course. 

The saddest part about the big Bronco, to me, is how many people will buy it and never use it for the things it’s so good at. They’ll drive it to school or the grocery store, letting its incredible off-road capabilities go unused and unacknowledged. The Bronco Sport Sasquatch is far more than enough for the average buyer, and after a few minutes in the car, it feels like it may even be enough for the experienced off-roader. 

The Bronco Sport has always been marketed as the baby Bronco, and the Sasquatch feels ready to defend that reputation—in mud, ruts, water, or anywhere else you want to test it. 

Competitors

Competitor Reviews

Minivans are cool, go ask your dad. They haul humans and their things, and for people my age especially, they're responsible for decades' worth of road-trip memories. The Toyota Sienna has been a staple among the minivan community since 1997, but even in its old age, it's still a solid option for large families.

In this case, I spent a week with the Toyota Sienna Limited—the fanciest option of the group. The base Sienna LE starts at $39,080, while this one costs $55,955 as tested with a few options tacked on. For that price, the Sienna puts most comparable three-row SUVs to shame.

The Toyota Sienna is hybrid only, as it has been since 2021. Under the hood is Toyota's ubiquitous 2.5-liter four-cylinder hybrid engine found in everything from the Camry to the RAV4. Here it makes 245 horsepower and 176 pound-feet of torque. Quick the Sienna is not. But there's just enough electric torque on the front end to get you moving and just enough power from the four-cylinder to maintain speed. Bury your foot more than halfway into the accelerator, though, and the powertrain sounds strained.

Thankfully the Sienna Hybrid isn't about racing between red lights. That hybrid setup yields an impressive 35 miles per gallon city, 36 highway, and 35 combined on this all-wheel-drive model. Front-wheel drive is even better at 36 combined. Driving from one coast of Florida to the other (and back), I didn't stop to fill up once. The Sienna Hybrid will go 630 miles on a tank—pretty impressive for such a big vehicle.

Pros: Efficient, Tons Of Space, Nice To drive

Shoving seven dudes and coolers into a Sienna is pretty easy, too. Unlike some so-called "three-row" SUVs with barely usable back rows, the Sienna will fit three adults in comfort. There are 37.4 inches of headroom in the third row and 38.7 inches of legroom. Not even Toyota's biggest SUV, the Grand Highlander, has that much space; There's only 37.2 headroom and 33.5 inches of legroom by comparison.

Even with the third row up, the Sienna still has 33.5 cubic feet of trunk space compared to the Grand Highlander's measly 20.6 cubic feet. That number swells to 75.2 cubes with the third row folded flat and a whopping 101.0 cubic feet with every row folded flat. Again, the Grand Highlander only gets to 57.9 and 97.5 cubic feet, respectively.

The "Limited" badge means luxury in Toyota speak, and the Sienna has plenty of it. Every row gets plush leather-trimmed seats. The front chairs are heated and ventilated, while the second row is heated and comes with an extended leg rest. Assuming no one is in the third row, you can slide that captain's chair far back, kick out the leg rest, and lay comfortably about three-quarters of the way flat.

The Sienna is arguably nicer to drive than its SUV sibling, too. It won't take you anywhere off the beaten path with just 6.3 inches of ground clearance (or 6.9 inches on the ruggedized Woodland trim), but that means better handling and nicer on-road manners than many SUVs. The steering is responsive, the chassis is balanced, and there's way less body roll.

Cons: It Looks Like A Minivan, Outdated Technology, 

The Sienna's only big downside is the technology. The infotainment is outdated compared to the new system Toyota has in many of its vehicles. The screen is laggy and slow to respond, the graphics are dated, and the home screen is a mess with too many options. And 9.0 inches is pretty measly for a modern touchscreen.

The Sienna does at least have the iconic minivan flip-down, ceiling-mounted screen so the kiddos (or grown adult men) can watch a movie over a long road trip. That comes with a full-size 120-volt outlet and an HDMI port. There are also a half-dozen or so plugs throughout the Sienna for your devices.

It might not look cool, but the Toyota Sienna has everything you need and more. So if your family is in the market for something spacious, luxurious, and well-equipped, don’t go for a Grand Highlander before giving the Sienna a chance.

Competitors

More Minivan Reviews

It’s been a minute since the Honda Pilot’s latest generation debuted. Actually, it’s been two years. The restyled SUV showed its muscular bod for the first time in November, 2022. Aside from a brief first-drive event in early 2023, we kind of forgot about the “new” Pilot. Does that make it an entirely forgettable machine? 

Certainly not. After a week and approximately 600 miles in a 2025 Pilot Black Edition, I found the SUV to be a superb family truckster with legitimate room for seven or eight people inside, not an easy accomplishment in the mid-size SUV segment. But my backside wasn’t very happy after three straight hours in the driver’s seat. And my wallet wasn’t happy with the required fuel stops.

Every SUV segment is super competitive, but the mid-size crew is home to heavy hitters like the Ford Explorer, Chevrolet Traverse, Toyota Highlander, Jeep Grand Cherokee… I could go on. The Pilot is arguably the best-looking of the bunch, balancing its chiseled, upright shape with clean lines and satisfying proportions. Finding that design sweet spot isn’t easy, and the Black Edition adds a bit more flavor with black exterior trim. Set against the Radiant Red Metallic paint, this Pilot just flat-out looks sharp. 

The Black Edition brings more snazzy trim inside, namely in the form of red stitching and red interior lighting to contrast with the sea of black leather. Like the exterior, Honda strikes a comfortable balance with its design, though some might find the layout a bit dated despite being just two years old. The 9.0-inch tablet-style touchscreen contributes to that—it’s decidedly smaller than most everything else in this segment.

Pros: Simple, Spacious, Third-row seat Actually Fits Adults

A slightly larger screen would be easier to see and navigate, but that doesn’t mean it’s not useful as-is. Honda’s software suite is wonderfully intuitive to use, the voice control works reasonably well, and if you want to forego that for your Android or iPhone, wireless connectivity is trouble-free and near instantaneous.

If you can swing the extra cost, I recommend the optional 10.2-inch digital driver display available on higher trim levels. It supplements information such as navigation into your field of view, and it just looks good. There aren’t an overwhelming number of configurations, just enough to bring a bit of variety to an otherwise humble commute.

The layout is easily adjustable through steering wheel controls, and while I’m talking about controls, praise be: Honda keeps a simple bank of knobs and buttons beneath the center screen for climate and seat functions. When the windshield fogs up during a sudden rainstorm, it’s a godsend to reach over and turn a dial without taking your eyes off the road.

It all melds with Pilot’s primary mission in life: to transport people safely and comfortably to their destination. That’s accomplished reasonably well in the first two rows of seats, but imagine my surprise when I shuffled into the Pilot’s third row and found actual, usable space. Admittedly I’m not a tall man at 5-foot 6-inches, but legroom isn’t the only accolade for the Honda’s rearmost seat. There’s a breadth of shoulder room, 59.5 inches to be exact. It’s enough to where three children or two adults wouldn’t feel cramped. If you regularly have a carload of folks on board, you could do worse than the Pilot.

It’s among the most spacious in the mid-size segment, and there’s still 22.4 cubic feet of space behind the third row for cargo. With the rear seat folded it increases to 60.1 cubic feet. Pulling the removable second-row center section and pivoting the seats forward opens up 112.1 cubic feet. As for that removable seat section, it neatly stows in a small storage compartment underneath the floor at the very back. Most importantly, the various configurations are super simple to set up. Pull a strap here, push a button there, and you’re carrying home a new washing machine.

Cons: Hard Seats On Long Trips, Has A Drinking Problem

How does it drive? Its 3.5-liter V-6 with 285 horsepower is... just fine. Press the gas, it goes. And the 10-speed automatic doesn't complain about changing gears. Sure, you could choose Sport mode and pretend to clip apexes, but the Pilot isn’t supposed to be a road course rockstar. There’s plenty of power to merge into heavy highway traffic, and the suspension soaks up rough pavement without making anyone car sick. The powertrain isn’t obtrusive, or quirky, or interesting for that matter. It simply is, and frankly, that’s the way it should be for a family-focused SUV. 

Despite its size, the Pilot feels as easy to drive as a Civic. Honda Sensing includes a plethora of driver assists that are neither overly intrusive nor cumbersome, and that certainly helps reduce stress on long journeys. You don’t need an optioned-up model to get them either. Honda Sensing is standard across the line, and just like the powertrain, it simply does the job for which it was designed, without undue drama. I’d recommend stepping up for the CabinTalk in-car PA System, especially if you have noisy kids or hearing-impaired grandparents. It projects your voice through the stereo to the rear rows; trust me when I say it comes in handy.

I wish the Pilot had the Civic’s fuel mileage. The official EPA ratings for all-wheel-drive models are 19 city, 25 highway, and 21 combined. I averaged 22 mpg over approximately 600 miles, but the vast majority of that was on the highway and rural country roads where I should be getting the best of the best. Tooling around at city speeds I typically stayed in the mid-to-high teens; at 75 mph I was in the low 20s. It’s worth noting the Pilot I had was brand new with just 150 miles on the odometer. Things could improve a bit as the engine breaks in. But there are similar SUVs with more power doing better at the pump. 

The seats were also a downer, at least for the driver. Yes, I already waxed poetic about the Pilot’s interior space and comfort, but I had a sore backside after an hour behind the wheel. Laterally speaking, the front seats were wonderful and the Black Edition’s 10-way vented driver seat was wholly supportive. Actually, it was too supportive—the seat bottom was exceedingly stiff. It’s not something you’d notice on a short test drive, and like the fuel mileage, it may ease up over time. But it’s stiff enough for me to question whether I could accept it as a daily driver.

Even with a softer seat, I’m not sure the Black Edition makes the most sense for SUV shoppers. Its starting price of $55,675 places it among competition with more power, more tech, and frankly, a bit more personality. However, An EX-L with all-wheel drive is $10,000 less and you get much of the same equipment. More importantly, you still get everything that makes this SUV such an outstanding choice for larger families—the interior space, the driver assists, the in-car intercom, and the stalwart (albeit thirsty) powertrain. 

While I was never excited to drive the Pilot, I felt relaxed and secure behind the wheel regardless of weather or traffic. When the most precious things in your life are sitting just a few feet behind you, I can’t imagine feeling any better. Mission accomplished, Honda.

Competitors

Competitor Reviews

North Wales is driving paradise. The roads through Snowdonia National Park are, in the truest sense of the word, epic. Tight and twisting as you climb up the mountains, fast and flowing in the valleys, with sublime scenery surrounding the shadow of Mount Snowdon. Park on the side of the road for an hour and you may see three or four cars pass by. One of them might be someone who made the pilgrimage. Mostly it’s just you and the sheep.

Our wooly friends are nonplussed about the car, as they are most things. I’m not. The Porsche 718 Spyder RS is the final salvo for the internal-combustion Boxster, complete with God’s Own Flat-Six—a 4.0-liter, 493-hp, 9,000-rpm engine lifted from the 911 GT3. Pair that with a chassis honed by Porsche’s Motorsport department, but optimized for the road, and you’ve got a car as epic as this place.

And, a bittersweet farewell.

In its current guise, the Porsche 718 Boxster has been with us since 2016, yet its bones date back to the 981-generation Boxster of 2012. Ancient in car terms, but this car still feels great. Porsche got the fundamentals just right. In all its guises, the Boxster has always offered perfect handling balance and a driving experience that’s hardly compromised compared to its tin-top Cayman counterpart. In fact, the Boxster is typically lighter than its Cayman equivalent, and so it is here with the Spyder RS.

The funny thing is that Porsche doesn’t refer to this car as a “Boxster.” It is just, simply, the 718 Spyder RS, and that’s quite apt. Since its very beginning, the Boxster has always offered a blend of daily usability and sports-car fun, but the Spyder RS sacrifices some usability for more flare, more drama, more… more. Erecting the lightweight top is akin to pitching a tent. The top’s fabric offers about as much sound insulation and theft protection; the ride is quite tough at low speed; the gearing is relatively short, so the engine drones at highway speed; the bucket seats are a pain to climb in and out of. 

A Boxster GTS 4.0 is a car you can use every day, no problem. The Spyder RS demands more, but it also offers more. It takes the Boxster to new heights.

The suspension that’s tough around town comes alive on a fast road. Snowdonia’s “B-roads” are lumpy and bumpy, heavily crowned to deal with the constant rain, and with weird dips at the inside of corners. And the occasional cattle grade to contend with. Here, the Spyder RS floats along the surface, adaptive dampers rounding off all the hard edges perfectly. Sport-mode suspension settings are often too hard for places like this, but in the Spyder RS, the dampers just keep the body tied down that little bit better, without ever upsetting the car. 

Porsche softened the spring rates compared with the Cayman GT4 RS and it pays dividends. On basically every road we threw at the Spyder RS, even the ones beyond Wales, the car ate them up. 

Like all Boxsters before it, the Spyder’s handling is perfectly calibrated. It pivots right around its center, with a chassis balance that responds so precisely to throttle inputs. Like the Cayman GT4 RS, the Spyder RS is a very fast car, but one that makes the driver feel immediately at ease. You get in and push hard straight away. The big brakes boost your confidence as well. I can’t remember the last time I drove a Porsche Motorsport car without their optional carbon-ceramics, but these cast-iron brakes stop more than well enough and offer perfect pedal feel. 

Pros: Spellbinding Engine, Perfect Chassis, Engaging At Any Speed

If anyone is still on the fence about electric power steering, they should drive a Spyder RS. An engineer once told me that you can tell if a car has good steering by the way the wheel just starts to slightly unwind when you run over a wet patch of road mid-corner. It rained off and on throughout our time in Wales, as it’s wont to do, and the Spyder RS communicates every little wet spot on the road up through the wheel. It follows cambers a bit, but it never feels like it’s about to put you off the road.

And yet, it’s all about that engine. Easily the most spectacular ever fit to a Boxster, with the feel of a real race engine. I imagine some of that is a bit contrived, but the uneven idle, buzzes and rattles and vibrations through the firewall give this engine some of the unhinged feel of a thoroughbred. Despite that, it’s perfectly tractable around town. Yet, you have to get on it, because this 4.0-liter has an amazing mid-range and a top end that’s basically unrivaled by anything this side of a Ferrari V-12.

The sound. The sound! As in the GT4 RS, the Spyder RS has intakes just behind the doors which feed a big central airbox and throttle bodies for each cylinder. You can hear the throttle position change as you roll into the pedal. It’s addictive listening to the Welsh air go from a hiss, to a suck, to a deep bellow as you go flat-out. The induction noise is so loud, you don’t even need to turn on the active sport exhaust. It actually sounds best with the top in place, but the rear window removed, the tent trapping and amplifying sound in the cabin. I genuinely dropped my jaw the first time I heard the engine’s song in this way. And while the 8,000-9,000-rpm rush is metallic perfection, this engine sounds special at any speed.

Cons: Fiddly Top, Noisy On Highway, I Don't Own One

Porsche’s PDK dual-clutch remains the best of its type, so good you can forgive the Spyder RS for its lack of a manual option. (The manual evidently doesn’t fit behind this engine, plus Porsche’s RS cars have long been PDK-only.) Its shorter final drive might be annoying on the highway—I frequently wondered when it would upshift, until seeing the number “7” staring back at me on the gear indicator—yet it allows you to use more of the engine more of the time. Shifts can be as quick as a real racing sequential, yet smooth like a traditional automatic. In normal automatic mode, it’s quick to upshift for fuel economy, so you either need to put it into PDK sport, or better still, shift it manually. Both the paddles and the sequential-esque lever in the center console are fun, and no matter how you use it, you marvel at how relentlessly and efficiently the whole thing works. 

The performance envelope is very high here, with all the power you could ever need. There’s immense grip from the Michelin Pilot Sport Cup 2 tires and a chassis that just won’t quit. This formula often produces a car that only really feels alive at extralegal speeds, yet the Spyder RS feels amazing at any pace. You can feel the balance without pushing the limits, revel in the superb feel of the steering and brakes, and enjoy the tack-sharp throttle response even if you don’t use all 9,000 revs. 

And it can’t be overstated how nice it is that this car is set up for the road. Photographer Dean Smith, who’s been up and down these Welsh B-roads in hundreds of cars, remarked at how fluidly the Spyder RS glides along without needing crazy speed. A lot of Porsche Motorsport’s recent efforts have erred a little too much on the side of track focus, losing some of the usability and appeal of the division’s cars of years gone by. This doesn’t. I’m sure this Porsche would be hilarious fun on a track, but the Spyder RS belongs out here in the wild. Among the sheep.

More on the Porsche 718

The Jaguar F-Type is dead. After 11 years in production, the British two-seater is being put to pasture as Jag reinvigorates its lineup with an EV-only approach. The decision marks the end of one of the United Kingdom’s all-time great sports cars. We’re sad about it. 

To give the F-Type a proper sendoff, we thought it appropriate to drive the car one last time. After a weekend of backroad carving, long highway drives, and city errand-running, it’s clear to us the world is losing out on one of the last true all-rounder performance vehicles of the 2010s.

It’s hard not to stop and stare. Even 10 years after its introduction, the F-Type stuns with its beauty. Whether we’re talking about the original car or the facelift introduced in 2019, it’s tough to find an angle that isn’t pleasing to the eye. It combines classic roadster proportions with a pair of lovely fascias. People asked me about this car constantly, despite its age. I’m especially partial to the rear end; Those taillights and quad tips make it one of the best-looking cars produced in the 21st century, hands down. 

Time hasn’t been as kind to this Jag’s interior, but it’s still hard to fault. The cabin looks like it was designed in the early 2010s, with physical buttons scattered throughout the cabin in a less-than-linear fashion. While it’s not as pleasing to the eye as setups like the new AMG GT, the F-type’s switchgear is far more user-friendly. There aren’t seven menus to jump through to get to the cooled seats, or touch-capacitive buttons to adjust the cruise control. Just a bunch of solid, clicky buttons—as it should be. 

Pros: All-Time Great Supercharged V-8, Excellent Looks, Surprisingly Good Ride

The only thing that really dates the F-Type is its screens. The gauge cluster is just a digital display of analog-style speed and revs, and doesn’t show much other information. The 10.0-inch infotainment screen feels generations old. It’s miles less responsive and less vibrant than the new stuff. Its saving grace is standard Apple CarPlay and Android Auto, which work well. Sadly you need a wire for both of them. 

Otherwise, the F-Type remains a pleasant place to spend time. The seats are comfortable and easily adjustable, the stereo bumps, and visibility is excellent. I could easily do a full day behind the wheel in this car... which is exactly what I did over a weekend. 

The car you see here is an F-Type P450 R-Dynamic, the cheapest variant in the F-Type lineup for 2024 (Jaguar dropped the V-6 back in 2019 with the facelift). In this case, it’s also the best version of the F-Type. Under the big clamshell hood is the company’s 5.0-liter supercharged V-8 engine, paired to an eight-speed automatic sending power to the rear wheels—the same layout the F-Type started with in 2013. 

Rated to “just” 444 horsepower in this trim, this engine will go down as one of the all-time great V-8s of our time. Those on the internet in 2013 know the raucous bellow and unmistakable crackles from this engine took the world by storm. It’s not an understatement to say these quad pipes wrote the book on the factory burble tune. Still, over a decade later, the sounds trigger neurons in your brain that no other exhaust could possibly reach. Much of that has to do with the sheer volume. Because the F-Type is so old, it doesn’t seem to conform to modern volume enforcement limits—at least, that’s what my ears are telling me. 

Getting that power to the rear wheels feels like the right choice. The last F-Type I drove, an all-wheel drive R model, was plenty quick. But the car fell apart when the drivetrain was under stress. It felt sloppy and overwhelmed by itself at the limit, and never consistent. Not so with this rear-drive model. There’s a core balance here that just makes sense. 

With a curb weight of 3,760 pounds and a softer suspension, the F-Type isn’t as agile as something like a 911, but still, there’s a lot of fun to be had here. Even if the limits aren’t very high, the wind through your hair and the exhaust noises make up for it.

Cons: The Possibility Others Won’t Remember It As Fondly As We Do

That soft suspension pays dividends. While it makes the F-Type feel every bit of 3,760 pounds, the tradeoff in ride quality is very much worth it. This might be the most comfortable performance-oriented vehicle I’ve ever driven. Even on the worst New York City roads it never crashed over imperfections or broken pavement. It’s the only car in its class that I’d consider using as a daily driver where I live. It’s better than some SUVs I’ve driven recently. Really, it’s that good. 

Conversely, the F-Type isn't the most-feelsome or most-connected car in the world. The steering is good but forgettable, and the brakes are simply fine. And it’s not like there’s much to adjust—there are only three modes, Normal, Sport, and a mode for inclement weather. And it feels like the only things that change are the throttle response and how long the eight-speed auto will hold a gear. But as a do-it-all cruiser, it delivers with real style and some of the best exhaust sounds you’ll find on the market at any price.

Rest in peace, F-Type. We’ll miss you dearly.

Competitors

More on the F-Type

You won't find a fanbase more rabid than Toyota Tacoma Stans. They love their dinky old trucks. Even in a changeover year with the old Tacoma heading out and the new one coming in, Toyota still moved more than 237,000 units in 2023. That was fifth-best for all trucks and top among its midsize classmates by more than 200,000 units.

The new Tacoma gives fans even more reason to flock to dealerships; A sharp redesign, a fresh pair of turbocharged engines, and depending on which trim you go for, a premium interior with thoughtful upgrades. In this case, the Tacoma Limited has a whole host of niceties for a still reasonable (at least, in the larger truck scope) $57,295 to start. And it's pretty fantastic.

Call it blasphemy, but the new four-cylinder hybrid engine is way better than the old V-6. It fixes one of the Tacoma's biggest issues: Torque—or lack thereof. The clunkily named I-Force Max hybrid powers this top-end Tacoma Limited model and combines a turbocharged 2.4-liter four-cylinder engine with a 1.9-kilowatt-hour battery pack and a single electric motor. That results in a hearty 326 horsepower and a class-leading 465 pound-feet of torque at just 1,600 rpm. That's a big improvement over the old V-6's underwhelming 265 pound-feet at 4,600 rpm.

Finally, blissfully, the Tacoma has torque. Those quick-acting electrons from the 48-hp electric motor add fire to the tires and move the Taco off the line quickly before the gas engine kicks in for more oomph. Even though Toyota doesn't list an official 60 mph time for this truck, my butt dyno suggests somewhere in the seven-second mark. It's quick.

Even at 70 miles per hour, you barely have to dip into the accelerator to uncork more power. The combo of a turbocharger and an electric motor means you always have torque when you need it, and the four-cylinder engine feels more robust even than the outgoing V-6. And there's still enough power to tow up to 6,000 pounds in this Limited trim.

The entire powertrain is silky smooth; There wasn't a single unsettling jostle from the powertrain in my week with this truck. The gas engine does get a little loud when you get on the throttle hard, but so do so many other four cylinders. It's all paired to an equally seamless eight-speed automatic transmission.

Pros: Finally Some Torque, Refined Drive, Premium Cabin, Still Capable Enough

The biggest improvement to the Tacoma is the way it handles. The now-electronically assisted steering is light and direct. No more mysteries as to where the nose is pointed. The ride feels plush set to the truck’s Normal setting and just stiff enough in Sport to keep things interesting. And the chassis is well-balanced.

Standard four-wheel drive with an electronic center locking differential means you can also take this truck off most beaten paths. The TRD Pro or Trailhunter trims are still the most capable, and have fancier suspension tech, but even the Tacoma Limited still has moderate off-road chops.

As the fanciest Tacoma of the bunch, and in keeping with Limited trims across their entire truck lineup, Toyota went heavy on the chrome here—the grille, wheels, door handles, and bed handle all get the shiny stuff. Meanwhile, the font splitter dips down so far beneath the bumper that it looks like prime Jay Leno. For such an otherwise aggressive-looking, attractive truck, the Limited trim doesn't do the Tacoma justice.

And if you were hoping for varying bed and cab sizes, sorry—the Limited is only available in the Double Cab configuration with the five-foot bed. Even with the larger cab, the back seat feels tight for my six-foot frame.

At least the interior is properly premium. The Tacoma Limited is loaded with nice materials. Toyota's SofTex faux leather covers the seats and it's nearly as soft and supple as real cowhide. Those seats are heated and ventilated. You do get real stitched leather on the steering wheel, at least, and the steering wheel is also heated.

A nice, chunky walnut-burled wood accent stretches across the dash with a “TACOMA” badge stamped on the passenger side, just in case you forgot. And a massive 14.0-inch screen sits atop the dash. It runs Toyota's latest and greatest infotainment system, which has crystal-clear graphics, a clean home screen, and basic functions right where you need them. It's the second-best thing to Apple CarPlay—although, you can still access CarPlay and Android Auto wirelessly if you so choose.

Cons: Too Much Chrome, Tight Back Seat

The best thing about the Tacoma Limited is that it's fully loaded from the jump. The faux leather seats, adaptive suspension, and 14.0-inch touchscreen all come standard. You also get Toyota Safety Sense 3.0 at no extra cost, which includes adaptive cruise control, a lane-departure alert, high-beam assist, and plenty more.

If you’re not a fan of all that chrome, Toyota does offer most of those features on other Tacomas—but only if you’re willing to pay a bit extra. The TRD Off-Road, for example, gives you the big touchscreen for an extra $845 and heated seats for an extra $585. It just doesn’t have the adaptive suspension.

But the Tacoma Limited makes a strong case for itself. Look beyond the chrome and it excels as a premium mid-size truck. Most everything you want and need comes standard, it’s nice to drive, comfortable inside, and just capable enough for the occasional trail. If you were worried the new Tacoma wouldn’t live up to the hype, don’t be.

Competitors

More Truck Reviews

I shouldn’t speak of any car in terms like these. It’s only a rolling object, after all. Carbon and steel, rubber and leather. And yet, there’s not a single piece of the Pagani Utopia that begs for less than hyperbole.

This is the best, most-soulful, most-immaculate, beautiful, and inspiring car built in the last decade. Nothing comes close. A visit to Pagani’s ever-expanding HQ left me slack-jawed at the company’s capability and the passion of its staff, but mostly at its ambition. 

Not even NASA compares anymore. How’s that for hyperbole?

As proof, this hypercar pronounced ooh-toe-pia poises against an Italian hillside like a coiled snake. Its driver’s door swings up and out, opening like a gilt-stamped invitation. One foot probes deep in the footwell formed by Utopia’s carbon monocoque. You lump into the seat, slowly at first, then all at once, like falling in love.

Then you’re right there, front row at the jeweler’s counter.

The Utopia’s interior is made of whimsy, all milled metal switches and gossamer. The center stack sits upright, two lightly polished panels clutching rows of gorgeous gauges. Each component was designed and produced with unthinkable care by Pagani’s 180 staff.

They pack so much detail into every interior component—subtle surfacing, bespoke typefaces, knife-edged millwork—it’s impossible to take it all in. Anything from an HVAC switch to an indicator stalk could explain so much about this car and the people who build it. 

But I’ll tell you about my favorite bit.

Utopia’s steering wheel starts life as a single block of aluminum. It weighs about 80 pounds. CNC mills pare excess from the slab, pass after pass. In time, the crude form begets something refined, something beautiful. A special six-axis mill then takes the reins. It’s one of only a handful on earth. The mill hollows the wheel’s spokes and rim, scooping out interior curves like you would a pumpkin. 

Thin aluminum covers hide the hollowed-out portions, leaving only a neat row of hex bolts to hint at the recess beneath. The tolerances between wheel and covers are machined so precisely that your fingernail can’t tell where one surface ends and the other begins—a human hair couldn’t squeeze through the seam, even if it sucked in its gut.

The wheel’s aluminum surface requires eight further hours of hand finishing to achieve the perfect satin sheen. No machine can match human skill here, Pagani says. Then it’s off to the production floor where one worker swaddles the wheel in immaculate leather and stitches it all up by hand.

Amen.

Every last one of the Utopia’s 32,000 new components—there’s almost no parts sharing with the outgoing Huayra—was treated with such reverence. Whether milled from billets or baked in an autoclave, everything’s fettled endlessly. It adds up to 640 hours of complex milling per car, piled on the countless hours spent designing each part, prototyping the part, creating tooling paths to machine the part—and in many cases—starting from scratch when founder Horacio Pagani walks into the room and demands perfection. Again.

When you glimpse the effort up close, whether from Pagani’s production floor or from behind the Utopia’s gorgeous steering wheel, it clicks. The cumulative effort poured into this car is staggering. Where any other hypercar maker would reach for an off-the-shelf part, Pagani designs and builds from scratch, in-house. I simply don’t know how Pagani turns a profit on the (roughly) $2.4-million Utopia. 

Blissfully, it’s even better to drive. 

A ruby red "START" button lives at the base of Utopia’s gorgeous center stack. A single press lights the 60-degree 5980-cc twin-turbo V-12 in a throaty trill. If you’re standing behind the car for the start procedure, it’s hard to tell if the car just orgasmed. Or if you did. 

The Utopia’s clutch pedal proved daunting to calibrate, Pagani’s R&D Test Driver Alberto Scilla informs me. To corral 864 horsepower and 811 pound-feet, the drivetrain was built from sturdy stuff: multi-plate clutches, inch-thick exotic alloys, and brimstone. With drivetrains, that mechanical heft generally translates to physical heft. 

Not here. Master cylinders and clutch discs shuffled in and out like seasons, Scilla says, until Pagani found the perfect solution. The Utopia pulls away from a stop like a feather on a breeze. No drama, no judders. Just aim the nearly 900-horse rocket at an Italian mountain and go. Even better if the mountain road is a great one.

"The cumulative effort poured into this car is staggering."

This one’s great in the way wooden roller coasters are—huge thrills but mostly the kind of shaky terror that drains the blood from your lips. This rough thin asphalt ribbon lives just outside Modena, coiling against the hillside over and over as it rolls from one computer-background vista to the next. 

Utopia eats up every inch of the lumpy surface, even if its hypercar proportions—long, low, ultra-wide—seem to stretch from the road’s ragged edge to well past its centerline. Every bodily hole clenches like a vice when, inevitably, each hairpin apex hides a careening hatchback on the other side. 

Still. For a car this capable on a road this tight and bumpy, it’s amazing how easily the Utopia goes. Rising up to the V-12’s 6,700-rpm redline, the Utopia’s 325-section rear rubber kicks sideways out of every slow damp sweeper. Same goes for third-to-fourth shifts on straightaways. Your right foot is merely a conduit to vaporized rubber.

So much power. So much torque.

This Mercedes-AMG mill is an absolute unit, a mile-wide bonfire of sound. There’s none of that “tearing-silk” Italian nonsense here, just a progressive shouting snarl up through every gear, the cabin awash in turbo shwoossshhhh and the soundtrack of two hungry beasts squaring off in the Serengeti.

Sounds friendly, right? 

It actually is. There’s a progressive quality to Utopia’s handling, especially while the V-12 vaporizes those rear Pirellis. Within a few corners you’re anticipating the slides, reveling in them. The front end feels tacked to the earth, offering cautious light push when grip runs dry. The chassis remains stable whenever you lift throttle, never threatening to swing around and pirouette that V-12 into an onrushing Fiat.

The Pagani’s ample damping, courtesy of electronically controlled shocks, includes a comfort mode that pares down pothole thwacks but never removes a sense of connection to the road. Pagani staff encouraged me to switch over to comfort mode repeatedly, but there’s not much need for it.

While the Utopia doesn’t magic-carpet over the road like a McLaren 750S, it feels lithe and active whatever the drive mode. Always comfy, never dull. Likewise, Utopia’s steering is calibrated for all-day driving, lighter on- and off-center than other cars chasing the Pagani’s high-Test coattails. 

Maybe it’s the Utopia’s 2,822-pound dry weight that makes the car feel effortless?

While working Utopia up to speed, even the spectacular engine and chassis play second fiddle to Pagani’s headlining act. Yes, the stick is back. After a Huayra hiatus, Xtrac provides a seven-speed ‘box mounted transversely beneath the Utopia’s hindquarters. It’s actuated via cable, controlled by that big gorgeous shift knob rising between the Pagani’s driver and passenger seats.

Glorious.

It’s a dogleg ‘box, so first gear sits down and to the left. This layout calls back to classical racing cars, sure, but it’s also a concession to the seven-speed pattern itself. There’s a chunky, rubbery resistance to complete each shift and a pair of pronounced detents between the gates. 

Because of the seven-speed shift pattern, detents center the shift lever in two separate positions, one on either side of the third-forth interchange, leading to some cautious moments when you’d rather focus on tucking the Pagani’s nose toward an apex.

"Is that fourth gear?" you wonder, slotting the shifter over and up a notch from cruising speeds. "Or am I about to set off a multi-million, second-gear grenade?"

Utopia owners will commit the pattern to muscle memory, in time, but it’s not telepathic like the greatest manual transmissions seem to be. Especially in hard heel-toe downshifts to second gear, when a heavy resistance against the shift lever makes you wonder if second is fully selected.

Still, I’m thrilled to have the stick back. So are Utopia customers. According to Pagani, 70 percent of the first 100 Utopia were specced with a manual. The alternative is an automated version of the same Xtrac gearbox. We wish those owners peace of mind. Even if they’ve chosen incorrectly.

After an afternoon blasting down and up the mountainside, Scilla raises an eyebrow. He asks if I want to drive the Utopia back to Pagani HQ. The question sounds more like a provocation. I hand the keys (metaphorical keys, of course; The real “key” is a little ingot shaped like a Utopia, milled in-house, because of course it is) back to a development driver who’s covered hundreds of thousands of kilometers in this very car. 

Scilla lays down a circus show on the road, loading the Utopia’s snout against the car’s front six-piston carbon-ceramic Brembos, then hanging the Utopia’s tail WAYYYYY out in every corner, letting the engine wail and moan down every inch-long Italian straightaway. 

As a car writer, it’s your sworn duty to play stoic from the right seat, no matter who or what’s happening behind the wheel. Instead, it takes minutes for the stream-of-consciousness chatter to stop flowing from my mouth into the Utopia’s immaculate interior. If modern performance figures have you thinking the Utopia comes up short on the stats sheet, try to keep up with a Scilla-driven Utopia on a back road in any other car. You’ll die trying.

Back at Pagani HQ the staff have called it a day. We roll through the front gates and bid Andrea farewell. For a moment, it’s just me and the Utopia, parked on the factory’s neatly aligned pavé.

“What a machine,” I mutter, patting the Utopia’s a-pillar like some million-dollar Labrador.

Objects like the Utopia usually have imperfections that allude to their handmade nature. Except nothing about this car’s construction is imperfect. That is the expression of Horacio Pagani’s nature. There is a precision and intentionality to everything Pagani Automobili does, from the cleanliness of its factory floor to the perfect brushed finish on that steering wheel.

Utopia is the stuff of dreams, borne of craftsmen and -women who dedicate their very souls to their work. Anyone on from the janitor to the assembly floor could speak for hours about the things they make, and with great pride. If that sounds like regurgitated ad copy, it is not. Horacio Pagani and the people who make up his company have my admiration with absolute sincerity. 

As a rare journalist who’s driven an example of each Pagani model—Zonda, Huayra, Utopia—I feel a pressing need to answer one question from the commentariat: “Does the Utopia reach the Zonda’s dizzying heights?” Well, it comes damned close, which is not damnation by faint praise. Instead it’s an exaltation. 

The Utopia is an even better expression of Horacio Pagani’s ideals than the Zonda, a belief that art and science should meld into a vehicle that stirs something deeply human inside us. Twenty-five years on from that first Zonda, Automobili Pagani itself has grown in capability and sophistication, but never lost sight of its values.

Is the Utopia the last word in performance? Is it simply an engineering codpiece? It is art? Is it obsession manifest? No, the Utopia is something entirely different. Something ultimately special. 

It is a Pagani.

The revolutionary Dr. Ian Malcolm famously said, "Your scientists were so preoccupied with whether they could, they didn't stop to think if they should." Except this time, it isn’t an escaped T-Rex on the loose—it’s German engineers and their infamously V-8-less creation, the 2024 Mercedes-AMG C63S E Performance.

Yes, it has 671 horsepower from the combined efforts of a 469-horsepower turbocharged 2.0-liter four-cylinder engine and a 201-horsepower electric motor. And the engine is packed with some of the most clever tech on any road car, ever: A turbocharger with an integrated motor that assists and scavenges wasted energy, and a high-discharge battery pack calibrated to always have boost on tap. It even has a unique weight distribution among sport sedans, 49/51, which is more like a C7 Corvette or a Ferrari 812 than a front-engined sedan.

But this C63 commits two grave sins. It is groaningly heavy at 4,817 pounds, and the new engine erases the character of the car that came before it, that rumble so critical to the C63’s ethos. Without the V-8, what is the C63?

I hate to say it but—damn it—the new C63 isn’t worthy of the pitchforks. As much as I’d like to storm against it, longing for the days of the V-8, the new C63 has merit. But it’s not perfect. And even after an afternoon of driving it on California’s best roads, I’m still not convinced the C63 needed to stray from the old format.

Understanding something is an easy way to be less scared of it, or at least a way to become more accepting of change. So when Mercedes made the project manager of the controversial new car available to us, I asked very simply: Why?

According to project manager Damian Hampen, the idea for the hybrid four-cylinder came from the engineers within AMG, rather than the mothership pushing any particular agenda.

"We wanted to push the C63 in a new direction, and we wanted to bring the F1-inspired technology to a road car." When I asked him how much of a nightmare it was calibrating every system within the car, he gave me a mysterious smile and that’s it.

The C63S leverages its hybrid system heavily. Pushing 469 hp out of a turbocharged 2.0-liter four-cylinder comes with compromises, most notably in response and driveability. It takes a colossal turbo to make that kind of power, and with a colossal turbo comes similarly heinous levels of boost. There are two ways to cut that turkey. The first is a relatively high-strung engine with high compression. It can spool the turbo quickly and make lots of power, but it might be tricky to keep alive. Or there’s the approach AMG settled on for the C63: A low 9.0:1 compression ratio, a huge turbo, and 37 psi of boost.

Normally, this kind of engine would be an undrivable pig. It would take forever to spool, have no power at low RPM and low boost, delivering a light switch’s all-or-nothing power. But add in 201 hp of hybrid assist, and those troughs in the power curve are suddenly filled. Add in an electric motor on the turbocharger that can pre-spool it, and you might just have an instantly responsive engine. That is, if—and only if—the calibration is done correctly. This is how the C63 impresses.

Pros: F****ing Quick, Excellent Handling, Great Fuel Economy

Mercedes completed one final trick for the primary hybrid system: Shoving it in the rear differential to optimize weight distribution. The engine itself only has a 48-volt system and no high-voltage hybridity. Thus, a weird power distribution dance ensues where the engine is sending power to all four wheels through the nine-speed front-mounted transaxle and down the driveshaft, while the electric motor sends power back up that same driveshaft to drive the front wheels as necessary. (My brain feels like a squeezed lemon at this point.)

Balancing these three main systems (engine, electric motor, and turbocharger motor unit) is nothing short of a miracle. And the execution is genuinely brilliant. It is the first turbocharged engine ever with a naturally aspirated response, instant neck-snapping low-end torque, and a satisfyingly peaky powerband.

The sequence goes something like this: On throttle tip-in, the electric motor nearly maxes out power to deliver ferocious torque. Meanwhile, the turbo spools up to 7 psi in an instant with the electric assist. At low RPM, the electric motor provides most of the thrust until the turbo blends in. Then, a delicately tuned dance occurs. Boost builds to 37 psi while the electric motor sends power out to make the engine feel natural. All the while, the car feels like a goddamn rocket ship. It is unbelievably fast, alarmingly so, if you think of the physics for even a moment.

Even at 4,817 pounds, the C63S is one of the best-handling sports sedans I’ve driven in a while. But that’s a much easier trick to decode because, in every situation, the C63 rides poorly. It bucks and bobs over every bump, never losing any handling composure, but tossing me out of my seat with enthusiasm. Yet the mechanical balance of the brute is undeniable in low-speed hairpins, where it satisfyingly digs and rotates mid-corner where most cars in this weight class would go soggy.

Cons: Emotionless Powertrain, Heavy, Poor Ride Quality

To be frank, if you toss stiff springs and dampers at anything it’ll handle. But it is simply too stiff as an everyday car for most, especially compared to competitors like the BMW M3, Alfa Romeo Giulia Quadrifoglio, and Cadillac CT4-V Blackwing. It’s the most telling sign that the C63S is backed into a corner due to its weight.

This brings me back to the why. Despite its brilliance, technical mastery, and impressive performance, I fail to understand why this car exists as is. The C63 traded speed and emotion for… just speed. I can’t help but think that if we had a 4,000-pound C63 with a V-8, it would just be better.

Yes, the C63S E Performance is technically impressive, and technically "better," but at what cost? Nobody falls in love with a calculator, and that’s the problem with the C63.

Competitors

Competitor Reviews

The 2025 Genesis GV80 Coupe is all about looking the part, like wearing your matching Lululemon set to grab a milkshake or buying a vintage motorsports jacket with no intention of attending a race.

Genesis created an SUV that has the promise of a "sporty" car without the sacrifices it takes to get there: the low ground clearance, uncomfortable seats, cramped cabin, or heaven forbid, the sweat. But there’s an appeal to looking sporty without fully playing the part.

The Genesis GV80 Coupe is new for the 2025 model year, a derivative of the existing GV80 SUV. It follows the trend of taking a normal SUV, chopping its roofline diagonally to create a "fastback" profile, and calling it a coupe, despite having four doors.

But for as much as car enthusiasts like myself love to criticize SUV-coupes as "not coupes" (true), I actually like the GV80 Coupe. This is partially because I love Genesis's current design language. Genesis is different from other luxury brands, but not so different that it screams when you see it.

The GV80 Coupe’s sloped roofline looks more agile than stately—the exact kind of SUV I’d expect a successful young adult to go for. Genesis wants people to see its sloped-roofline SUV as sporty, and non-car people certainly do. It has big, 20- to 22-inch wheels, bright-orange stitching options, and piped-in engine sound for added ambiance.

The Coupe has 375 horsepower in the base model and 409 horsepower in the top trim I tested. Instead of the GV80 SUV’s 300-horsepower, four-cylinder base engine, the Coupe gets a twin-turbocharged V-6 as standard. All-wheel drive is also standard.

But individualism comes at a price. While the 2025 GV80 SUV starts at $59,050 (with destination) and $75,150 for the 375-hp engine, the Coupe's base price is $81,300—about $6,000 more for the same power output. Anecdotally, though, the price jump makes sense.

Pros: Looks Cool, Feels Cushy

The GV80 Coupe has more vivid interior colors than its SUV counterpart. I drove the 409-hp Coupe with Genesis’s Ultramarine Blue interior and its bright-orange stitching. My first thought was: "If I squint, this is a Bentley." I’ve driven this exact combination—dark blue with red stitching and a quilted-diamond pattern on the seats, plus the winged logo—in a $400,000 Bentley Continental. (Genesis’s design boss did come from Bentley, after all.)

But the GV80 Coupe is about more than its looks; It’s about driving feel, too. The Coupe has four drive modes on all vehicles: Eco, Comfort, Sport, and Custom. The 409-hp Coupe gets an additional Sport+ mode, which raises the car’s idle and provides sportier shifts, steering feel, and electronic stability control.

The GV80 is powerful but not jarringly so. The car weighs 5,000 pounds, so 409 horsepower gives it oomph without making your stomach drop. Throttle response is laid-back in comfort mode, quicker in Sport, and far more whippy in Sport+. Genesis uses augmented engine sounds in the cabin to make the car seem more intense than it is, and to me, piped-in noise in an SUV never hurt anybody. Even when you know it’s fake, it makes driving the car more fun.

There’s a long, 27.0-inch screen that runs from the driver’s instrument cluster to the infotainment system in the GV80 Coupe, and when you use a turn signal, part of the instrument cluster turns into a blind-spot camera—a feature commonly seen in other Kia and Hyundai products. In Sport+ mode, the needle on the digital speedometer turns into a red glow stick with animated sparks raining down, like a digital Fourth of July sparkler in your car.

The GV80 Coupe’s brakes respond well, and the gas pedal is weighty, which is a good thing. A light-as-a-feather accelerator pedal makes you feel disconnected from the car, and having pedal tension reminds you that you have a large vehicle at your feet. In an era when sound deadening makes 70 mph feel like 40, it’s important to remember that you’re driving a 5,000-pound SUV at high speeds.

There’s not a lot of road noise in the Coupe, and with no audio on, there’s the tiniest bit of wind noise at highway speeds. But the whole car is big and fancy and luxurious. When a friend asked me what I thought of the Coupe, I said: "It’s just really good."

Cons: Where's The Wireless Apple CarPlay?

I drove and rode in the GV80 Coupe for about five hours total, and had only a few nitpicks. The first is that wireless Apple CarPlay is not yet available—it’s wired only, for now—but Genesis says an over-the-air update will eventually give the cars that capability. The next was that while the seat has automatic posture adjustments, my back still hurt after a few hours at the wheel. I asked a friend who also drove the car if they felt that way too, and they did.

The last complaint is silly, but Genesis talked up the fact that the GV80 Coupe has exposed tailpipes versus the SUV’s hidden ones (sporty versus cushy, remember). The Coupe has quad exhaust tips on the back, and mine were trapezoidal shapes lined in chrome.

But when I squatted down to look at them, the chrome trapezoids were just pieces of the rear bumper that didn’t connect to the tube-shaped exhaust tips behind them. It was like looking at a children’s "match the shapes." I don’t expect exhaust tips to be perfect chrome trapezoids, but I do expect the actual tips to be hidden a little better.

Overall, the GV80 Coupe does what Genesis wants it to do: appeals to a younger, more-fun buyer who wants to pair the practicality and stature of a luxury SUV with the sportiness of bright-orange stitching and a sloped roofline. It’s for the people who want to put on their fancy workout clothes to run errands. Sometimes, that’s all of us.

That’s why the GV80 works. Because even the biggest of purists—those of us who think you have to put in the work and be uncomfortable to drive a true sports car—can’t argue the appeal of a big, cushy SUV with heated armrests and a sloped roofline.

After all, it’s nice to be pampered.

Competitors

Competitor Reviews

First impressions aren’t everything. Take this 2024 Hyundai Sonata Hybrid. It looks great, easily the best-looking mid-size sedan out there, and its interior is both gorgeous and functionally superb. Then you drive the Sonata Hybrid. While it’s not a bad car by any stretch, it underwhelms compared to its sharply honed—if not as visually blessed—rivals.

Hyundai facelifted the Sonata for the 2024 model year with the handsome lines seen here. A single curved panel housing both 12.3-inch gauge cluster and infotainment screens highlights the Sonata’s reworked interior, while the big mechanical update is the availability of all-wheel drive for gas-powered models, barring the sporty N-Line, and this hybrid. 

That means a 150-horsepower 2.0-liter four-cylinder paired with a 51-hp electric motor carries over for 2024. Both of which pair with a six-speed automatic transmission, unlike the system in the Honda Accord and the Toyota Camry, which eschew conventional transmissions. This might sound like a benefit, but compared with its Japanese rivals, the Sonata’s hybrid system feels unrefined. 

The transition between the Sonata’s electric and gas power feels clunky to the point you wish you were just driving a conventionally powered ICE car. In the Accord and Camry, it’s the opposite. Both are so smooth, you don’t notice they’re hybrids in the first place.

Pros: Great Looks, Wonderful Interior, Well-Executed Tech

At least the Sonata offers similar fuel economy to its rivals, 47 miles per gallon combined. Its 51-mpg highway rating is excellent as well, likely aided by its conventional automatic transmission. Six-hundred twenty miles of range on a full tank is seriously impressive by any standard. And aside from the powertrain clunkiness, the Sonata Hybrid is a nice thing to drive. It rides smoothly, if a little floaty over bumps. Handling isn’t quite as sharp as the new Camry’s and especially the Accord’s, yet for normal people—not car enthusiasts—it should be more than fine. 

The interior of this top-of-the-line Limited trim really is excellent. It looks and feels high-quality, and in an era where so many cars rely too much on the infotainment system to control important vehicle functions, the Sonata is no-nonsense. 

Crucially, there are actual buttons, knobs, and switches for important vehicle functions. There’s not too much configurability with the digital gauge cluster, but the graphics are clear and sharply designed. Plus, how nice is it to be in a reasonably affordable car with an interior trimmed not in dismal black or gray! 

Cons: Clunky Hybrid System, Average Driving Dynamics, Expensive Limited Trim

While the Limited’s $38,350 MSRP is pretty much on par with its rivals, it is still a substantial upcharge over the $31,950 of the SEL Convenience. The Limited adds niceties like a heated steering wheel, cooled seats, leather trim, and Hyundai’s excellent Highway Driving Assist system (one of the best on the market). Yet, the SEL Convenience seems to be more than generously equipped, uh, limiting the appeal of the Limited.

The Sonata Hybrid is a good car and should provide sensible motoring for many people. It’s just that it’s up against two incredibly long-running nameplates, the Accord and Camry, which in their latest iterations are as good as they’ve ever been. The Sonata must be more than good looking to reach the top of this class, though looks certainty don’t hurt.

The Competition

It is extremely difficult to not be charmed by the Ineos Grenadier’s old-school persona at a glance. That’s deeply intentional; When Ineos chairman Sir Jim Ratcliffe couldn’t buy the rights to produce the original Defender after Land Rover discontinued the model in 2016, he simply decided to replace it. That explains the Landie-like two-box styling, squared-off wheel arches, and a full-time four-wheel-drive system. It looks like a 1990s Defender 110 with a dash of Cyberpunk 2077 thrown in, and it turns heads.

Inside, the retro inspiration becomes even clearer. There’s a 12.3-inch touchscreen perched atop the center console that doubles as a gauge cluster and infotainment system. Aside from that, every feature is controlled via knobs and switches. Even the ceiling is blanketed in a variety of toggles for both factory features and aftermarket add-ons—adding in a set of roof-mounted lights controlled by OEM switches is virtually plug-and-play in the Grenadier. It’s more Boeing flight deck than modern vehicle, and for those exhausted by haptic feedback and capacitive touchpoints, the Grenadier’s interior will be a rare respite from modernization.

The interior is, thankfully, vastly more comfortable than an original Defender, thanks in large part to some pleasant Recaro seats. Far roomier, too. Unlike a modern Rover, there is no luxury to be found in the Grenadier. This truck’s interior is constructed from hard, easy-to-wipe-down plastics and vinyls. Luckily, the Grenadier’s taste for utility means it also retains the old Defender’s excellent sight lines, which make a cinch of both tricky wheel placements and tight parking spots. 

Unfortunately, the Grenadier’s unobtrusive single center screen does triple duty—vehicle inclination/tip, infotainment, and the instrument cluster are all contained within it. Only the Christmas-tree lights are directly in front of the driver. The screen’s relatively low and close placement in the cabin made it a pain to continually glance rightward at the speedo while cruising. 

The speedo climbs quickly nonetheless; American-spec Grenadiers get a BMW-sourced 3.0-liter turbocharged straight-six (the exact same one found under the hood of the Toyota Supra). The Bimmer power plant puts out 286 horsepower and 330 pound-feet of torque, and is tuned for extra grunt at low RPM. Power is directed through a ZF-built eight-speed automatic and a Tremec four-wheel-drive transfer case with a 2.5:1 low-range gear. While the 5,875-pound SUV isn’t quick, power is adequate and the proven components go a long way toward assuaging new-manufacturer anxieties.

Pros: Overbuilt As Hell, Comfortable & Roomy Cabin, Strong Drivetrain

Once up to speed, however, I found the Grenadier unsettling to drive. The disdain for modernization runs deep at Ineos. This truck uses recirculating ball steering, rather than a more modern rack-and-pinion system, which means it doesn’t transmit forces as abruptly through the wheel (thereby making hard-core offroading easier). Unfortunately, that means it’s also wildly vague on-center and in corners, and the 3.85 turns it takes to go from lock to lock—combined with the fact the steering wheel doesn’t naturally return to center—makes it wickedly difficult to keep centered in its lane at anything above 35 miles per hour.

Steering feel is inferior to a modern Jeep Wrangler (which also uses a recirculating ball mechanism), and it’s unbecoming of a truck with a base price north of $70,000. There is no added maneuverability benefit for this clumsy steering, either: the Grenadier still has a gargantuan 44-foot 3-inch turning circle, almost five feet wider than a four-door Wrangler. 

The Grenadier is underpinned by ladder frame construction and a pair of solid axles. While these aren’t a negative in themselves—they’re an incredible boon for off-roading, after all—the shock and spring tuning is on the stiffer side, exacerbating the traditional—and uncomfortable—body-on-frame truck feeling of crashing over bumps. Combine this with some hefty wind noise, makes the Grenadier about as exhausting to drive as an old-school 4x4.

I drove the Grenadier back-to-back with a Lexus GX550, and while on paper they’re competitors—the Grenadier I tested cost $85,455, $4,000 more than a fully-loaded GX Overtrail+—the Ineos felt like a truck built three decades before the Lexus. 

Cons: Wide Turning Radius, Awkward Instrument Cluster, Just Plain Bad To Drive On Roads

It’s not an entirely fair comparison. Despite the ladder frame and solid axles, the Grenadier boasts considerable improvements over its Defender inspiration—vastly more robust body construction, five-link suspension, kingpin axle knuckles— and it is in theory vastly more durable than the Lexus I compared it with, but none of these improvements are noticeable on the street. 

But as Ratcliffe pointed out at the Grenadier’s launch, the truck’s development “started by identifying a gap in the market, abandoned by a number of manufacturers, for a utilitarian off-road vehicle,” not by trying to build a posh mall-crawler. Admittedly, it does feel at home off-road—even though the test course I drove on was far too mild to make full use of its capabilities. 

The Grenadier does have a spec sheet to back up serious overlanding performance, with full-time all-wheel-drive and a locking center, front, and rear diff, in addition to that Tremec low-range box. Approach and departure angles indicate it could handle much more than the rolling hills and mud that I took it through, with 36.2 degrees up front and 36.1 degrees out back. Ground clearance is similarly excellent at 10.4 inches, and its maximum wading depth is 31.5 inches—all numbers that can compete with, or outright beat, some of the most intense off-road vehicles you can buy, including the new Defender and the Mercedes G-Wagen. 

Many prospective Grenadier buyers will also be pleased to know that Ineos is helping rural mechanics learn how to wrench on its new truck, and is freely inviting aftermarket companies to develop parts for it. This is a crucial part of what could make the Grenadier usable as a long-distance overlander, as even classic Defender owners can find themselves without knowledgeable mechanics in extremely rural Africa and Asia. 

There’s no disputing that Ineos built a unique and interesting truck. Indeed, the Grenadier is a vast improvement over the original Land Rover Defender, and for those seeking to boogie down backroads in Tanzania for months at a time, it might actually be a viable choice. But for American buyers seeking a fun weekender to hit the trails in, there’s a reason we don’t make them like we used to. 

Competitors

More Ineos Grenadier Stories