Sunday Star-Times

Big Merc in catch-up mode

Three years ago, a revolution­ary upgrade for the Range Rover Vogue raised the expectatio­ns of XXL-sized luxury SUV buyers. Paul Owen wonders whether the new Mercedes-Benz GLS 350d is still playing catch-up.

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What we have in the new $139,000 MercedesBe­nz GLS 350d is the Teutonic interpreta­tion of a 200-series Toyota Land Cruiser. Despite the recently-added ‘S’ in the model nomenclatu­re, this mega-sized Merc is definitely more G-class than S-class, and by that I mean that it lacks the luxurious hightechno­logy ambience of ultrarefin­ed rivals like the three-yearold Range Rover Vogue and newlyremad­e Audi Q7.

Just the plethora of elderly controls scattered in a semiorderl­y fashion around the interior tells you that a lot of the GLS was signed off last decade, including the electronic architectu­re. But does this really matter? The GLS is well-resolved in the way it drives and rides, and it also offers a highly-versatile and spacious seven-seat cabin that treats all its occupants as equals and pampers them royally.

So don’t consider the Land Cruiser analogy to be necessaril­y a bad thing. If you like vehicles that are highly evolved from a proven starting point, both the Cruiser and the GLS qualify. No clean sheets of paper were harmed during the developmen­t of this Mercedes. The real action happened at the badge-makers when another letter was added to the model signature, transformi­ng the GL 350d into the GLS 350d.

Accompanyi­ng that change in christenin­g were detail improvemen­ts to the front end design, a new set of rear tail lights, and an interior update that added must-have luxury-SUV features like driving modes, active lanekeepin­g, blind-spot monitors, a 14-speaker audio system that can resurrect Sweetwater­s, and the usual stuff expected at this price point such as the power operation for the tailgate and third-row seating. Up front, a supernovas­ized three-pointed star in the grille now so effectivel­y brands the vehicle it might as well produce flames, while the huge 20-inch alloy wheels now fitted should ensure that the GLS will attract its fair share of rap music royalty cheques at its points of sale.

I’d be tempted to call a facelift a facelift in this instance were it not for a crucial new component added to the mechanical mix of the GLS. It’s the new nine-speed automatic gearbox, which provides a spread of ratios low enough to climb mountains and high enough to limit diesel consumptio­n on speed limit-free autobahns. When driving the GLS in a New Zealand context, it usually only requires about seven of these, but it’s nice to know that the two higher gears held in reserve are there just for the bragging rights they provide.

As expected, the new transmissi­on shuffles the ratios with all the skill, sleight-of-hand and premeditat­ion of a card shark, and usually the only perception that a gear-shift has occurred happens visually when you glance at the gear indicator nestled between the instrument­s.

Such a wealth of ratios gives the brains trust of the automatic the opportunit­y to target the sweet spot where the 3.0-litre V6 turbodiese­l engine delivers its fullest quota of driving force.

That’s a rather large target, given that 620Nm of torque begins surging through the driveline at 1400rpm and refuses to wilt until 2500rpm. This zone of grunt makes driving this 2.4 tonne, 5.2 metrelong luxury troop-carrier feel effortless. The GLS might weigh quite a bit more than the GL it replaces, but official fuel use over the city-highway lab test driving simulation has been pruned down to 7.6L/100km, thanks mostly to the more efficient processing of torque by the new automatic.

Compare that to the Land Cruiser’s more luxurious cousin, the $159,000 Lexus LS450 TD. The 4.5-litre V8 turbodiese­l engine of the seven-seat Japanese luxury SUV produces a smidge more power and torque than the Merc V6, but it takes almost a second longer to accelerate from 0-100kmh, and drink two extra litres of diesel every 100km.

The handling of the GLS is as refined as the performanc­e of the powertrain. The adjustable air springs offer a number of useful settings, but I found myself constantly switching between the ‘sport’ and ‘comfort’ selections. The former gave an assured ride on the open road while limiting the roll of the substantia­l body during cornering. The latter felt right at home at urban speeds, absorbing the supermarke­t speed bumps and stray pedestrian­s (I jest) with ease. Sport also firmed up the heft felt through the steering, and the GLS became one of those rare things – an SUV that offers tactile feedback through the tiller.

It’s a fine (all wheel) drive then, costs less than most rivals, and has comfort and space to burn, but I fear some of the historic switchgear located all over the dashboard limits the ability of the GLS to fully compare with the likes of the Vogue and newest Q7. For example, the air-con controls are now shared with the Mercedes Viano light commercial van and the Beijing Auto BJ90, a Chinese SUV that raids the generic Mercedes parts-bin for many of its components.

So the GLS 350d has a little catching up to do, and to do that it needs a greater connection to the S-class saloon than just that suggested by the new model name. I’m sure Merc buyers would be prepared to pay a bit more for the more patrician cabin presentati­on that the GLS 350 d deserves.

 ??  ?? The Mercedes-Benz GLS 350d.
The Mercedes-Benz GLS 350d.
 ??  ?? A plethora of elderly controls scattered in a semi-orderly fashion around the interior, says author Owen.
A plethora of elderly controls scattered in a semi-orderly fashion around the interior, says author Owen.

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