While Volvo has had the occasional flirtation with performance (the 850R and S60R/V70R twins spring immediately to mind) the Swedish brand is most know for a dedication to safety. It was safety that attracted me to buy my first Volvo, a 1998 S70 T5 (5-speed manual of course), but it was performance that resulted in my second Volvo purchase, a 2006 V70R (6-speed manual). Unlike my Swedespeed.com brothers, however I had no delusions about the future of the R brand as Volvo doubled-down on their core. The R-Design models are a concession to speed freaks with a Swedish soft spot. Let’s see if they can fill the void.

Much like Audi, Volvo believes in the “one sausage different lengths” school of design. From the S40 to the S80 and even the XC60, the Volvo “look” of “narrow at the shoulder, broad at the hip” is unmistakable, often imitated and undeniably sexy, in a safe, practical sort of way. While the front overhang on the S60 is long compared to some of the German options, the overall look has grown on me since I drove the non-R-Design S60 last year. While the S80 remains the best proportioned of the bunch, the S60′s greenhouse screams four-door-coupe which is inexplicably all the rage. R-design models get a subtle update to the bumper with stabilizing fins, a tiny spoiler, more aggressive exhaust, a new front bumper that ditches half the chrome in favor of a more aggressive pose and a set of 18 inch 5-spoke wheels.

While the outside of the R-Design was treated to the same level of updating the former R models received, the interior gets less love. That’s not to say the interior of the S60 is uncompetitive – the build and parts quality is only a notch behind Audi and a decent step above the Mercedes C-class, there’s just not much inside to say “I got the sporty one” save a small emblem on the steering wheel. True to Volvo’s minimalist style, the buttons are clear, easy to read and easy to reach. If you’re looking for some funky Swedish character you won’t find any in modern Volvos. They are almost Germanic in their arrangement. Speaking of those controls, the slot for the “key” is located fairly high on the dash, so if you don’t pony up $550 for the keyless-go option, your keys will bang around in a fairly undignified fashion. Volvo should make this feature standard in a market where discount Nissans can be had with it.
All S60 models sold in the USA come with Volvo’s 7-inch LCD infotainment system, with or without navigation. Our R-Design tester was equipped with Volvo’s $2,700 “Multimedia Package” which bundles navigation, the backup camera and their premium audio system together. Should you decide to navigate solo it’ll set you back $1,895. Compared to the big hitters in the market, Volvo slots neatly in the middle behind iDrive and MMI but well ahead of Mercedes’ and Lexus’ aging systems and perhaps a tie with Infiniti. Menus are all logically laid out and easy to navigate, iPod and Bluetooth integration are fairly easy. While I prefer a hybrid controller/touchscreen system like Infiniti, I have to say that the steering wheel controls on the Volvo proved a decent and welcome alternative. A week back to back in a BMW proved that while iDrive is by far the more attractive system and more feature rich, Volvo’s interface is easier to use and less distracting.

Rear seat passengers in any of the European small sedans won’t be as happy as they would be in a Lexus ES350 or an American sedan, but in comparison to the A4 and the C-class, the Volvo delivers essentially the same dimensions in the back. While the previous S60R and V70R came with acres of “pearlescent” leather in wacky shades of orange and blue, the R-Design is available with sensible black leather faced seats. As someone who owned a full-leather upholstery V70R, I find myself torn between the feel of real leather on the doors and dash and the hours I had to spend caring for it all.

Volvo’s funky and polarizing 5 cylinder turbo engine is now an item for the history books. While I loved my 5 cylinder Volvos, I have to agree that they were a little different sounding. The S60R/V70R’s 2.5L engine also suffered from heat soak in hot weather. When the S60R/V70Rs were killed, R-Design became a sport and styling exercise at Volvo, so the S60 R-Design’s power bump came as a welcome surprise to the Volvo faithful. Volvo called in Polestar, their preferred tuning company to tweak the 3.0L twin-scroll turbocharged inline 6 for R-Design duty. The result was a modest bump from 300 HP and 325 lb-ft of torque to 325 HP and 354 lb-ft, but that only tells half the story as the torque and horsepower curves are improved compared to the stock engine. The 2011 S60 T6 AWD we tested last January ran to 60 in 5.67 seconds, which was notably behind the S4 and 335i, while the R-Design sprinted to the same number in 5.05. So marked was the difference that I headed to my local Volvo dealer and performed the test again with a T6 and R-Design fresh off the lot and recorded essentially the same figures. We all know BMW underrates their engines, but Volvo? Who knew. If you have access to an AWD dyno (we couldn’t get in one on short notice) let us know in the comment section below and maybe we can work out a rematch with Volvo.

My grandfather used to always tell me not to bring a knife to a gunfight. Apparently Volvo’s engineers didn’t have granddad like mine. The R-Design may bring cool blue-faced gauges and a willing engine to the fight, but sadly the unloved Aisin 6-speed automatic tagged along. It’s not that the Aisin transmission is a belligerent companion – in fact, the unit has been reprogrammed to be more eager to downshift when prodded. The problem is that in the R-Design it’s no less eager to upshift when you enter a corner, a trait that I find more annoying than a transmission that holds a gear but resists downshifting. Perhaps this is because my heart longs for an AWD Volvo with a manual transmission? While I didn’t find this behavior that distressing in the regular S60, I had hoped for at least some paddle shifters and a manual mode that didn’t shift until I requested. The Volvo rumor mill tells me a 6-speed manual may make a return soon, it can’t come fast enough.

The previous V70R and S60R corner carved with curious aptitude and strangely little road feel. The new S60′s electric power assist steering is actually a considerable improvement on the previous system and while it is not as direct and involving as last generation’s 3-series it has about the same amount of road feel as any other EPAS system on the market. I was told some years ago to be careful not to confuse heavy steering with road feel, but in our EPAS world they tend to be the same. The R-Design suffers from a 3,877lb curb weight (almost 60% of which rests over the front wheels) and 235-width rubber. It’s the weight and its distribution rather than the rubber that dogs the S60R in corners, where it exhibits an unwillingness to change direction much like the similarly overweight S4. The S4 delivers a more refined feel while heading off into the bushes.

For reasons that Volvo could not explain, their adaptive suspension system, a truly innovative feature on the S60R and V70R, is only available on the non-R-Design models. This means that should you want the extra power you’re stuck with the stiffer suspension all the time. I would not call the ride harsh, but it is notably stiffer than the standard suspensions one would find in an A4 or 3-series. Price likely has a role to play, with the R-Design starting at $43,375 – more expensive than my 2006 V70R, but significantly cheaper than an Audi S4. Our tester was equipped with the navigation system, rear view camera, up-level audio system, heated seats and washer nozzles, headlight washers, rain-sensing wipers, power retracting side view mirrors and Volvo’s blind spot monitoring system bringing our total up to $48,025. While that sounds like a large price tag, our own Michael Karesh estimated the R-Design undercuts the S4 by some $7,700.

One cannot review a Volvo without discussing safety. From collapsible steering columns, anti-whiplash seats and “anti-submarining” guards to Volvo’s latest active safety systems that will intervene when you fail to, we can easily say the safety box is well and duly ticked. Volvo’s City Safety with “pedestrian detection and full-auto-brake” is slowly working its way through Volvo’s line up and is standard on all S60 models. Personally I think this system should be standard on all Volvo models, even if it means a higher base price. The previous generation City Safety system saved my bacon in the XC60 I reviewed last year, so I’m confident it will do the same here. The S60 takes this system to the next level by detecting pedestrians as long as they are over 31-inches tall. After a week with BMW’s night vision system, which will warn you about pedestrians (but only at night) yet takes no action, I have to say my risk averse side prefers a system that acts instead. I was unable to find a volunteer to stand in front of the system so we could test it. Understandable, as I am told the system errs on the side of running into the obstacle rather than slamming on the brakes if it is unsure. Still, preliminary insurance data indicates that the system does work. Tell us your thoughts in the comment section below.

With the S60 R-Design, Volvo has made a competent AWD sedan that is finally as fast as the Germans offerings. Whet they haven’t done is resurrect the hopes and dreams of the Volvo R line, nor have they created a compelling reason for S4 or 335i buyers to look elsewhereh for their next car. While the R-Design may be far from a replacement for the S60R, it is a vehicle that finally lives up to Volvo’s “naughty” branding by giving Audi A4, 328i and C350 shoppers a viable option from the frigid north.

Volvo provide the vehicle, insurance and one tank go gas for this review

Specifications as tested

0-30 MPH: 1.9 Seconds

0-60 MPH: 5.05 Seconds

1/4 Mile: 13.5 Seconds @ 104 MPH

Observed Average Fuel Economy: 24 MPG over 724 miles

Remember the legendary Toyota Tercel? Sorry, trick question—there was no legendary Toyota Tercel. Between 1980 and 2000 five generations of tiny Toyotas came and went, leaving nary a trace in car guy lore. Toyota followed up the Tercel with the Echo. The new car was memorable…for ridiculous Gen Y marketing, an ugly exterior, a cheap interior, bobbly handling, and a harsh ride. All but admitting failure, Toyota not only let the Echo die on the vine as a “special order only” car but, taking a page from the GM playbook, euthanized the nameplate as well. A Yaris successor succeeded in that it continued the Tercel tradition of utter unmemorability. Emboldened by this success, Toyota has not only retained the Yaris nameplate for a second generation, but is pitching an SE variant at people who actually like to drive. Will we remember this one, and for the right reasons?

Drooling over this photo? Then your medication has at least one unpleasant side effect. Still, I must admit a fondness for the car’s exterior. The look is current, with the wheels pushed all the way out to aero-friendly crisp corners. Seeking swoopy insectoid styling? Look elsewhere. The SE tweaks (aggressive front facia, gunmetal gray eight-spoke 16-inch rims) work well, effectively communicating the car’s sporting ambitions. Prefer the three-door body style? Then no SE for you. It’s only available with the five-door. (The sedan was dropped with the redesign.)

Interior design high points include intriguingly patterned blue cloth and some squishy surfaces (the light gray bits). But the instrument panel suffers from the odd design details and clumsy attempts at coherence that have afflicted too many Toyota interiors over the past decade. Round vents, or rectangular ones? Why not both! Then mirror both shapes with an open storage cubby northwest of the instruments (for easy viewing by passers by) and a prominent circular surround overlapping the left side of the audio system’s thick bezel. The latter houses an unhappily cohabiting hazard button and passenger airbag indicator light—because you might have trouble finding them otherwise. Then there’s the audio system, with a tiny power button tucked away in the top right corner (and so beyond easy reach due to the system’s rightward displacement by the hazard button surround) and sound quality adjustments so buried even my kids failed to locate them.

Just drive the car at night, and everything is good. The steering wheel isn’t too thickly padded and is invitingly shaped. The seats are both comfortable and supportive. The side windows are generously sized, especially by current standards. The windshield, not so much. Like many lately, the instrument panel is tall, perhaps to lend the impression that the Yaris is larger and more substantial than it actually is. Or to avoid the minivanish driving position of the Honda Fit. It succeeds on both counts. The rear seat is roomier than the segment average. Adults of average size will fit with perhaps an entire inch to spare. Cargo volume is at best average, meaning the Honda Fit is the clear winner.

SE notwithstanding, the horsepower war hasn’t yet made it to the Yaris. A 1.5-liter four-cylinder good for a mere 106 horses at 6,000 rpm remains the only available engine. But the Yaris also hasn’t packed on pounds the way most competitors have, and still checks in south of 2,300 (about 300 fewer than a Fiesta or Sonic). Hitched to a five-speed manual, the engine feels peppy. Unlike the Mazda2, each shift doesn’t sink the engine into a torque-free zone from which it struggles to emerge. More of an issue than power: when revved the four produces a soft wheezy buzz. If it weren’t a brand new Toyota, I’d have hunted for a small exhaust leak. Shift feel is okay, neither as good as the Honda Fit’s nor as craptastic as the Hyundai Accent’s.

With a small engine and low curb weight, the Yaris SE’s fuel economy ought to be stellar. Unfortunately, it bumps against the same invisible ceiling as every other car in the segment, and so rates “only” 30 city and 38 highway from the EPA—about the same as the larger, heavier, and more powerful cars from the next class up. In suburban driving, the trip computer usually reported numbers in the low to mid 30s. Despite its higher curb weight and much more powerful engine, the Chevrolet Sonic 1.4T (29/40, reviewed last week) tends to do a little better, especially at higher speeds where its sixth gear comes into play.

Toyota’s recent efforts at sport variants of its small cars have been nothing more than appearance packages. Thankfully, it went further with the Yaris SE, tweaking the steering and suspension. Aided by the thinly-padded wheel and a modest level of power assist, the steering is more communicative than most. The SE’s chassis, far more poised than that of the misbegotten Echo, compares well to those of competitors. Add in the low curb weight and compact dimensions even by segment standards (a Hyundai Accent is 8.5 inches longer), and the Yaris SE vies with the Mazda2 for the class title of “most tossable.” Unlike the systems in the three Koreans, the stability control doesn’t kill the joy by cutting in too early. The car’s handling is so safe that it doesn’t need to cut in at all. The price for this agile handling: a slightly harsh (but still livable) ride and traditional levels of wind and road noise.

Contrary to conventional wisdom (well, at least that before the UA scare), all Toyotas are not equally reliable. In general, as with most other manufacturers, the smaller and simpler they are the fewer problems they have. And the Yaris is the smallest, simplest car in the line. It’s too soon to have any reliability stats on the 2012 car, but the first-generation Yaris has consistently been among the most reliable models in TrueDelta’s Car Reliability Survey.

This justified reputation for reliability has long enabled Toyota to charge more. With floormats, the Yaris SE lists for $17,310. An Accent SE stickers for $16,650. In the past people would gladly pay $660 more for a smaller, less powerful, less stylish Toyota.

By conventional measures, the Toyota Yaris isn’t very competitive. It’s smaller, less powerful, and less lavishly equipped than most competitors, but doesn’t cost less or go farther on a gallon of gas. The redesigned exterior is attractive, at least in SE spec, but others are arguably more stylish. About the interior enough has been said already. Yet I think I’ll remember my time with this small Toyota, as it offers something most competitors no longer do. Imposing instrument panel aside, the Yaris is a small car that’s okay with being a small car. Though unlikely to curry favor with the typical non-SE buyer, this isn’t entirely a bad thing for car guys. There’s a directness to the controls and an agility to the chassis you won’t find in subcompact hatches with loftier aspirations.Unlike its predecessors, the Yaris is a fun car to drive, minimally competent powertrain notwithstanding. And if Toyota did manage to field a powertrain fully competitive with that in the Hyundai? I’d definitely remember that car.

Toyota provided the car with insurance and a tank of gas.

Michael Karesh operates TrueDelta.com, an online provider of car reliability and real-world fuel economy information.

At $66,900 the 2012 Hyundai Equus is the most expensive Korean car I’ve ever driven.

Having driven a 2007 Hyundai Santa Fe during my college years (and subsequent Hyundai products as part of my professional duties), I’ve seen first hand the progression of their products from plausible alternative to Japanese and American products to a purchase that one can be proud of. Considering that a decade ago my parents had a Kia Sedona – a lumbering hippopotamus of a car with an interior that Geely would find embarrassing – the progression of Korean cars is even more impressive.

We all know the “story” (to use a dreadful marketing term) of the Equus: It represents Hyundai’s attempt at a truly premium car outside of Korea and it comes with a free iPad. Comparisons to European luxury cars have been made by other outlets, but to paraphrase Katt Williams, “yeah, it do look like a Bentley…until a Bentley pull up.” Nevertheless, if God blessed you with a Hyundai Equus, you’re doing just fine.

For 2012, the Equus gets Hyundai’s Tau V8, displacing 5.0L and putting out 429 horsepower and 376 lb-ft of torque. Does it feel appreciably different than the 2011 model’s 4.6L Tau V8 that made 385 horsepower and 333 lb-ft? Not at all. I got the chance to drive the Genesis sedan with both the Tau 5.0 and the Lambda V6 that made 333 horsepower and 291 lb-ft of torque back-to-back in June of 2011 and I couldn’t even tell the difference there.

Equus owners will feel the same way about 0-60 times as hedge fund king Steven A. Cohen feels about paying $100,000 for a dead shark carcass – both figures are “inconsequential”. The Equus lets one simply waft down the road in near silence. Stepping on the accelerator to unleash all 429 horsepower would simply be vulgar and unseemly in our Equus Ultimate Edition, which came in a four-seat configuration clearly developed with the sole purpose of ferrying South Korean chaebol executives around Seoul while completely isolating them from the outside world. Like the Town Car Signature L, the front passenger seat can be moved forward and titled forward 45 degrees via controls on the passenger seat and on the rear center console itself. A power collapsible footrest for the rear seats can also be summoned, allowing for a Business Class-like experience for the rear seat passenger.

Fortune’s cruel machinations meant that I didn’t have a driving partner for the one car where I would rather be driven in, in the style of Freiherr Schmitt. Instead, I drove a freeway loop as well as along the Las Vegas strip in near silence, as the Equus filtered out everything else occurring in the outside world. The car soaks up the bumps, has plenty of power and the typical numb Korean steering and slightly spongy brakes are also present. Some have criticized the navigation and stereo system menus for being overly complex, but I had no problem operating either function, including while driving.

Where the Equus falls short is feeling like a truly “premium” car. Everything inside, from the knobs to the dash materials to the gauges, felt like an improved version of the switch gear, plastics and leather in my Santa Fe. That’s fine for a $40,000 Genesis, but on a nearly $70,000 ultra-luxury car, it’s not going to hold up. Sure, it’s not necessarily a “bad” interior, but a 2012 Audi A8 carries a $11,850 price premium and has a cabin that utterly shames the Equus in terms of visual and tactile appeal, not to mention all-wheel drive and massive snob appeal.

The peerless ride quality, middling interior quality and most of all, the understated aesthetics brings to mind the now departed Town Car. It wasn’t the flashiest, best built or most advanced luxury car on the market, but if you ever saw a black Town Car outside a fancy department store, expensive restaurant or government office, you knew that somebody important was nearby. Ford and Cadillac have put forth some poor replacements for the Town Car in an attempt to capture its livery car customers, but I think the Equus would not only excel in this field, but also offer a viable luxury option for the quietly affluent – the sort who would have eschewed the opulent European offerings for a Town Car in the first place.