Behind the curve
Merc started the coupe/saloon gold rush but it’s toned down the drama for CLS Mk3. Has the magic gone with the shapeliness? By James Taylor
SOGGY, SNOW LINED autopista north of Barcelona, cruise control engaged. The new Mercedes CLS is keeping itself within its own lane, and its own distance from the car ahead (an appealingly careworn Renault 4, if you’re interested). Should that come to a halt, so will the CLS, before autonomously following it away again up to 30 seconds later. Using map data, it can slow itself in advance of changing speed limits, junctions and roundabouts.
Feeling trusting? Nudge the indicator and it can swap lanes autonomously. Feeling stressed? Select a ‘wellness programme’ for the most zen possible combination of seat heating/cooling/ massage motors, ambient lighting and music. About to hit something? If the CLS detects an impending collision neither you nor it can avoid, Pre-Safe Sound plays a brief rushing noise through the speakers to trigger your stapedius muscle reflex to try to protect your eardrums. Suffice to say, the CLS is crammed with tech. Some of it’s from Merc’s flagship S-Class, and some from the latest E-Class family, with which the CLS shares much of its underpinnings.
This is the third generation of CLS. The big, banana-shaped coupe first swooped its way onto the world stage in 2004, and kickstarted the fastback-with-four-doors luxury niche since joined by the likes of Audi’s A7 and BMW’s 6-series Gran Coupe (reborn as the 8-series). Many of the original’s design hallmarks 4
remain: arched waistline, plenty of rear overhang and the illusion of a roofline that drags the boot down with it as it falls away – but I’m not sure the new CLS possesses quite as much visual drama as its ancestor. Despite being a big car it carries less presence than it used to. It’s as slippery as it looks, though, with a drag coefficient of 0.26. There won’t be a five-door Shooting Brake estate version this time (a successor was deemed just a bit too niche, even for today’s markets). The coupe compensates by becoming a five-seater (previously its rear chairs were divided by a console), with 40:20:40 split-folding seatbacks. And the boot’s still big – big enough to accommodate a 5ft 11in road-tester with space to spare… mobsters take note.
However short your rear passengers, they’ll need to stoop to duck their heads under the roof as they climb in, but headroom’s okay inside, as is kneeroom, courtesy of new, very slim front seats. Slim but enormously comfy, they’re so supportive you could happily degenerate into a corpulent sack of potatoes on a long journey, each elbow propped on a heated armrest until the tank runs dry. You don’t even need any core strength to hold yourself up as the actively flexing seat bolsters do it for you. It’s a typically swoopy modern-era Mercedes cabin, with a blend of familiar E-Class architecture and bespoke details, a highpoint being the jet turbine-shaped air vents, which illuminate in blue or red depending on what you’re doing with the climate control temperature. There’s further ambient lighting everywhere, with more than 60 changeable colours to pick from if you’ve time on your hands. Two widescreen digital displays stand upright within the dashboard’s curves, with customisable instruments and a reversing camera display that makes bay-parking look like a blockbuster movie.
All versions are all-wheel drive, and from launch the core range offers a choice of straightsix petrol and diesel engines, with a four-pot petrol option on the way this autumn. The diesel versions are, nonsensically, branded CLS350d and CLS400d – that’s the same 2.9-litre engine but different outputs, 282bhp/443lb ft and 335bhp/516lb ft respectively.
The petrol CLS450 is a more complex beast. Its 3.0-litre six is partnered with EQ Boost, which combines starter motor and generator in a powerful electric motor housed between the engine and transmission. It can provide an extra 22bhp/184lb ft slug of acceleration when called upon, as well as energy recuperation and a gliding function to save fuel. The 362bhp/ 369lb ft petrol six itself uses one conventional exhaust-driven turbocharger, with an additional electric compressor to help vanquish turbo lag. It’s all quite complicated.
You might just find the straightforward diesel 400d is the most pleasing CLS variant to drive, however. With a monster 516lb ft of torque (a Huracan Performante has 443lb ft), the top diesel CLS is seriously quick, yet quiet at a cruise, aided by the laminated (and still frameless) windows. The optional air suspension prioritises comfort over poise, the CLS dipping its door handles at roundabouts like a small plane dipping a wing, but its large body’s movements are well controlled. It’s wafty without being wallowy. It’s worth mentioning at this juncture that poor weather meant every CLS we tested was fitted with winter tyres on smaller-than-standard 18-inch wheels (19s are standard; most customers are expected to choose bigger than that).
So torque-rich is the 400d that, in a straight line at least, it feels no slower than the top Mercedes-AMG CLS53. Yep, there’s still a flagship AMG version of the new CLS, although unlike the previous Affalterbach-fettled CLS63 variants the new 53 model doesn’t have a rip-snorting V8. As the lower number suggests, it employs the same 3.0-litre straight-six/48-volt mild hybrid powertrain as the regular CLS450, albeit wound up to 429bhp/384lb ft, with the EQ Boost shot in the arm available here too. It’s blessed with a linear power delivery, but it feels quick rather than fast, not quite the full sledgehammer experience you might expect
from a high-end AMG. The 1980kg kerbweight might have something to do with that. It sounds reasonably rorty without being intrusive, with a muted rasp and a slightly synthetic-sounding whumph from the exhausts on upshifts. The nine-speed auto transmission tends to take a while hunting for the right gear – it does have a lot to choose from, after all. Once it’s decided on one, traction is stupendous (the 53 gets fully variable torque distribution as opposed to the regular car’s fixed 45:55 front-rear split), and the steering feels as quick and precise as you’d hope of an AMG; air springs and adaptive dampers are standard on the 53 (optional on the regular CLS), along with revised geometry.
We have a brief drive in the upcoming four-cylinder petrol
CLS too. This also features a 48-volt starter-generator, albeit a belt-driven one, similarly able to recover energy and provide a bit of extra oomph under acceleration to fill the natural torque gap. There is still noticeable turbo lag on an admittedly hilly test route, but once into its powerband the four-pot can punt the heavy CLS along at a handy lick, although its coarse note at higher revs feels at odds with the car’s upmarket positioning. It’s nimble for its size, however, feeling keener to change direction than the 400d, presumably down to the lighter load in its nose.
Prices start from around £57k for the CLS350d and CLS450, rising past £60k for the top diesel 400d. AMG prices are yet to be confirmed, but will head north of £70k. Incidentally, the new AMG GT 4-Door super-grand-tourer revealed last month will also be available with the 53 powertrain, but Mercedes says there’ll be a ‘significant’ price jump to that car, avoiding overlap with the CLS.
If you’re going to sink £60k into a big coupe, you want it to feel special. In many ways, the CLS does; it’s epically comfortable, loaded with interesting tech, and possesses one of the more visually arresting interiors on sale. I just wish it had a little more of the original CLS’s theatre, both to look at and to drive. The more time you spend with it, the more it grows on you – but surely a car like this should grab you straight away? On first acquaintance, the new CLS feels as if it’s missing just a little of that elusive sense of occasion. @JamesTaylorCAR