LINCOLN LOST IN THE CROWD
MKC is a handsome compact SUV, but could do more to stand out
I think Matthew McConaughey is a righteously cool dude. The Academy Award-winning actor with the slow Texas drawl is one of those guys with whom you’d crack open a bottle of Cuervo Gold, sit down in a beach chair, trade yarns for an afternoon and consider it time well spent.
That said, I don’t think McConaughey is the ideal TV pitchman for the Lincoln brand. He’s just too damn mellow. As Ford’s upscale brand sorts out where and what its place in the market is — the same identity crisis Cadillac faced a dozen years ago — the last thing it needs is to be low-key. It calls for someone loud and borderline obnoxious yelling, “Look at me! Look at this Lincoln!”
The compact MKC sport ute could use a heaping scoop of overconfidence — not because it’s forgettable, but because the sport-ute segment is crowded and ultracompetitive, especially among the premium brands, and Lincoln is a fading name.
To give credit where it’s due, though, the MKC is no badge-engineered Ford Edge. Sure, the two share the same platform and more than a few mechanical components, but Lincoln’s designers and engineers have masterfully crafted a sport ute with its own identity.
Cosmetically, the MKC is a handsome rig and is cleanly, if conservatively, styled, highlighted by Lincoln’s signature splitwing grille, a particularly elegant touch (Lexus designers take note: show some restraint with your ugly spindle grille). It doesn’t fall apart at the back end, either, with the wraparound liftgate looking particularly strong and well sculpted. That said, I was rolling northbound on Highway 400 north of Toronto when a Range Rover Evoque sidled up in the next lane. I couldn’t help but notice the contrast between the two competing sport utes, the Evoque sharply tailored and bold, the MKC more business attired. Which one stands out? I mused.
With fashion comes accessories, and the MKC tester was assisted by features and packaged options such as tasteful 18-inch aluminum rims, all-glass “vista” roof and shapely side-view mirrors. Such attention to detail carries through to the interior, where the mix of luxury (stitched leather and real wood trim pieces) and high-tech (eightinch touch screen, voiceactivated in-vehicle connectivity, optional THX II-certified audio system, etc.) combine to offer a suitably inviting environment.
The rather pronounced centre console is made all the more so by the lack of a traditional shift lever. Instead, the MKC features what has become another Lincoln signature: the push-button gear shifter. Yes, it does open up interior space, but it felt weird jumping into the driver’s seat and punching the start button, with my right hand instinctively reaching down to grasp the non-existent lever. During my week with the MKC, I did that every time.
While everything is roomy up front, the Lincoln suffers from the typical compact-SUV bugaboo of tight quarters for taller rear-seat passengers. With the front seat set for my 6-foot-2 frame, I had to bring my knees up to my chest to squeeze into the back. At least there’s decent cargo room behind the seats: 714 litres, which more than doubles with the seats easily folded.
As for what’s under the hood, the MKC starts with a 2.0-L EcoBoost turbocharged four cylinder, producing 240 horsepower (on 93 octane, 231 on regular) at 5,500 rpm, with 270 pound-feet of torque at 3,000 rpm. This is what powered the tester. Also available is a higher-output 2.3-L EcoBoost four, putting out 285 hp (on 93 octane) and 305 lb-ft. of torque. In either case, a six-speed automatic transmission with paddle shifters and all-wheel drive are standard.
While more power is usually desirable, the 2.0-L EcoBoost isn’t a bad choice. It certainly has the moxie to move the 1,793-kilogram Lincoln through traffic in a speedy manner and easily handles heavier applications of throttle, such as when merging onto the highway, sounding only slightly coarse in the upper rev range.
Fuel economy is a different matter. It isn’t that the MKC is particularly thirsty — I averaged 11.4 L per 100 kilometres in an even mix of highway and suburban usage — it’s just that the average is about the same as I achieve in most similar-sized sport utes lacking the supposed benefits of Ford’s highly touted EcoBoost. For those who like to haul things, the MKC, when equipped with a trailer tow package, has a maximum capacity of 3,000 pounds with either engine.
Unlike some of its competition (such as the Acura RDX, BMW X3 and Audi Q3), the MKC doesn’t accentuate the sporty side of things as much as it does the mild. It has a very cosseting ride and a cabin that’s quieter than most. You don’t feel as though you want to go hooning into corners as you might do with the aforementioned competition, though you can. Drivers can use Lincoln Drive Control to select from Sport, Comfort and Normal drive modes to cater to their driving moods. The continuously controlled damping setup constantly monitors the road; the suspension reacts within 20 milliseconds on average, smoothing out the ride and improving the handling. I’d be lying, however, if I said I could feel any truly appreciable difference between the settings.
With the MKC, Lincoln wants to continue moving toward a younger audience. Frankly, this is going to be a tough sell, as import brands dominate their mindset and the Lincoln name carries little cachet. Plus, Ford already has a comfortable lead in the compact-SUV segment with the bestselling Escape. A fully loaded Escape Titanium is about the same price as a base MKC. The biggest advantage for the MKC, at least for those who crave power, is that the bigger 2.3-L EcoBoost four isn’t offered in the Escape.
Still, the baby boomer cohort — those who remember the Lincoln brand as a sign of affluence — continue to move from larger vehicles to smaller ones as their lifestyles change. The MKC is a comfortable and atypical choice among the premium compact sport-ute segment.
And a word of advice to Lincoln marketing managers: Forget McConaughey. Get Howie Mandel!