Mercedes-Benz CLS
Mercedes-Benz CLS 350d £57,510
WE SAY: THE ORIGINAL FOURDOOR COUPE HAS BEEN REFRESHED. WE DRIVE IT
Don’t let these pictures fool you. As I type, the rain (and snow) in Spain is falling mainly and irritatingly relentlessly on the new Mercedes CLS’s “arching beltline”, sheeting of its “shark’s nose” front end and collecting on its “muscular rear shoulder[s]”. This is useful and irritating in equal measure. Useful, because it gives us a chance to assess the rear-biased 4Matic AWD system ftted to all CLSes at launch, but irritating because we’d hoped to spend more time stood a few feet back, admiring the “sensual purity” of what Merc design boss Gorden Wagener claims is the “archetype of the four-door coupe”.
And he’s not wrong – Mercedes invented the whole modern four-doorcoupe thing when it revealed the CLS concept way back in 2003. It hadn’t yet occurred to Audi and BMW that they could take the relatively humble underpinnings of a conventional three-box saloon, change the body for something that more closely resembled one of their two-door coupes, add many per cent to the RRP and, crucially, their customers would lap it up.
The new CLS may not have the delicacy of the original, but we reckon it’s a good-looking car all the same. Pictures really don’t do it justice. Inside, it’s as though you’re sitting in an E-Class, and that’s just fne. Of course, they’re efectively the same car underneath, as indeed they always have been. The two 12.3in screens are standard, unlike on the E, and operated either by touchpads on the steering wheel (borrowed from the S-Class, very button-heavy) or a familiar, conventional controller on the centre console. Space in the rear is naturally compromised by the roofine, but adults will nonetheless be pretty happy back there.
Not that you’ll ever carry anyone in the back. The CLS is a car you drive. It’s so style-led and such a lovely object, we fgured we’d start with that, but its powertrains and driveline are equally important parts of the package. From launch, you’ve a choice of two engines and three outputs. The 3.0-litre inline six-cylinder diesel is new, borrowed from the facelifted S-Class, and comes in 283bhp 350d or 362bhp 400d favours.
The sole petrol option – also a 3.0-litre inline-six – gets 48-volt electrics and an EQ Boost integrated starter/generator that delivers an extra 22bhp/184lb ft of shove for a limited time. This means, when you let of the gas, the CLS can coast or glide without its engine running. In efect, it’s the same powertrain you get in the facelifted S500. Two-litre petrol and diesel options will be added later, and no doubt make up the majority of sales.
All CLSs are ftted with the nine-speed automatic gearbox.
Our test car was ftted with optional air suspension. So equipped, it’s a bit of a barge and doesn’t really give you any incentive to cycle through its sportier modes (there are two – Sport and Sport +), but when you do, it doesn’t fall apart. Heave and foat are well suppressed, the engine is as smooth and refned a diesel you’ll fnd anywhere and there’s little wind or tyre roar. It’s more involving than an E350d – there’s less roll and the steering feels a bit more natural.
The platform on which the CLS is based, and the technology, engines and expertise to which Mercedes has access, means it would have had to try awfully hard to screw this one up. Like the new Audi A7, this is more of a luxury limo in a designer suit than it is a sportier version of an existing, conventional saloon. But that’s OK – it’s a very capable all-rounder that has something to ofer just about anyone who might conceivably be interested in it. At £10k more than the equivalent E350d, the CLS feels pricey at £57,510. But the E uses the old V6 and, while the interior and technology are broadly the same, the CLS’s profle and inherent desirability do a decent job of making the added expense feel entirely justifed. In all, a deeply efective daily that we wouldn’t hesitate driving miles and miles. You know, to fnd halfway decent weather.