NOT LIKELY TO SET PULSES RACING

There’s nothing wrong with it, but the new 3-series fails to excite Neil Lyndon

When you touch the key fob as you approach the new BMW 3-series after dusk, soft lights glow behind the door handles. It seems unlikely that somebody might fail to find the handle, even in the dark, but BMW is leaving nothing to chance. Or perhaps this servile courtesy should more accurately be interpreted as an extra aid to help owners find their car in the first place. For it would be all too easy to try to unlock the wrong one among the hundreds of BMW 3-series that are lined up beside each other at airport car parks. The 3-series accounts for about one third of BMW’S global sales and has done ever since it first appeared in 1975, so, in its time, this higher-performance “compact premium executive car” has been chosen by more than 12.5million ambitious, materialistically minded, brand-conscious corporate employees. Yuppie Nation, it might be called. The latest 3-series is not much different from those that came before; each of the six generations that have appeared since 1975 has been a more conservative advance on the previous model. The evolution of the giant Galapagos tortoise was an overnight sensation compared with that of the 3-series. The new car is longer than its predecessor, with a few inches of extra legroom and boot capacity, and ever so slightly more racy in its appearance. But this doesn’t mean that it has suddenly put on the automotive equivalent of 4in heels and a blonde raccoon of hair. It means, chiefly, that the slightly longer bonnet slopes down at a fractionally steeper angle to make the overall shape of the car look a little more eager to get going. I hope these tidings won’t produce seizures from overexcitement around the land. Interior design has been carefully improved to give the driver a clearer view and sense of the instruments (the entire console is slightly angled towards the driver); the interior trim and finish have been worked over with an almost unhealthy attention to detail, to improve what car designers like to call “the ambience”. Not very much has changed under the car’s skin, either. BMW’S engineering focus has been on extracting more performance for less fuel and with lower emissions, but many of its engines are modified versions of those from outgoing models. A new four-cylinder, turbocharged two-litre petrol engine is available for the 328i version, which is intended to rival the extraordinarily efficient and effective two-litre TFSI engine in the Audi A4; but, while the 3-series may be faster, it uses more fuel than the Audi and emits more CO2. The four-cylinder turbo diesel engine in the 320d Sport I borrowed was lively enough, but sounded like a Warsaw taxi from the Soviet era when it was idling, and more like the Red Army’s T-64 battle tank in motion. An eight-speed automatic gearbox is on offer throughout the range, which may be an improvement, but I’m in no position to judge because my test car had the manual box. I liked the Drive Performance Control, a switch which allows you to dodge around using four driving modes, from “higher performance” to “extremely economical”. In that Eco Pro mode, the throttle mechanism is muted, so that you need to press the pedal harder to get the same power that a lighter touch would stimulate in other modes. Meant to encourage economical driving, it might also make you fear that you’re about to run out of puff on a hill. As with the door lights, this is an ingenious development but one which probably won’t set pulses racing. That description goes for the new 3-series as a whole. To my surprise, I found myself more engaged and excited by Seat’s far cheaper Exeo, and Suzuki’s Kizashi, though no brand-aware yuppie could possibly believe that.