The advice in The Untouchables was simple. Don’t bring a knife to a gunfire fight. You have to wonder if the engineers at Lexus missed that memo. The weapon they brought to their showdown with the BMW 328i? A five-speed automatic.
It feels like an apology.
The 2001 IS300 sits in American showrooms with the big 3.0-liter inline-six from the GS300, a motor with too much torque for the manual transmission offered elsewhere in the IS200. So no stick shift. Just an automatic and some buttons on the steering wheel for overriding gears. Lexus promises a manual will come. It probably will. But for now, they are betting that American buyers don’t really want to wrestle a shifter. They want luxury. They want low repair bills. They want the badge.
The lack of a manual might not be a problem at all, if you like the idea of a sport-sedan but hate the work.
Size-wise, the car mimics the German rival. Personality? That is entirely different. Lexus did not give us the sterile cockpit you find in Bavaria. They built a cabin that looks like someone exploded a chronograph watch inside it. Titanium strips line the center console and dash. Ribbed indents echo from the door panels to the gear selector housing. Even the shift knob is a chrome sphere. It looks like it belongs on a PT Cruiser. It is quirky. Eccentric. But strangely not overwhelming. It is not an Art Deco museum. Just a little strange.
Lift the hood, though.
Classical engineering waits there. A twin-cam six-cylinder, neat as you please. Its virtue is torque. Smooth, creamy, almost invisible torque. You prod the gas lightly and suddenly your neck is snapping back against the headrest. Learn to be gentle with the pedal, or you will hurt your spine.
We tested it. With traction control off and the transmission in “Power” mode, the sprint to 60 mph took 7.6 seconds Lexus claimed 7.1. We missed the mark. The quarter mile was 15.9, also slower than claimed. Top speed? Dead on the advertised 144 mph. Why the lag? The engine was young, barely broken-in with only 1750 on the clock. Or maybe we just pressed too hard too fast. Either way, it feels fast enough. It climbs mountains effortlessly and reaches speeds that make insurance adjusters sweat.
Steering is where it shines. No heft, thanks to heavy assist, but surgically accurate. Point it. It goes. It doesn’t wander. It doesn’t argue. In suburban traffic, the transmission downshifts before you even think about it. Nimble. Responsive.
But then the mood changes.
Cruising on smooth asphalt? Silent. Wind noise suppressed. The engine purrs. A cloud ride. Hit broken pavement? The suspension sounds like a skateboard on concrete. One second you are a Zen monk, the next you are rattling your teeth. Add crosswinds and the door seals start to hiss. It is schizophrenic.
Handling follows the same pattern. Carves corners like a scalpel. Push harder. The front loses grip and plows wide. Shrill understeer. The ride is taut, but the body rolls just enough to create a peculiar wallow at the rear. It knows exactly when to stop being fun and start being a commodity.
Even the transmission acts bipolar. Full throttle? It plays along, shifting smartly when you ease off. Partial throttle? It upshifts at inconvenient times, killing the momentum. Annoying. Yet, somehow, acceptable. Maybe because the brakes are phenomenal. Huge ventilated discs up front. 171 feet to stop from 70 mph. Reassuring. Safe.
At $30,990 base, it is cheap for this class. Fully loaded, you hit $35,000. A steal next to the Bimmer. Will people care? They probably will not. They will care that the paint won’t peel in five years. That the radio still works in ten. That is the Lexus deal. You pay for the difference.
The Counterweights
Brad Nevin says he would still buy a BMW. To him, the 3-Series is perfection. Refined. Balanced. Aggressive. The IS300? Gutsy. Stylish. But stiff. Hit a railroad crossing and your wheels bang hard against the suspension stops. Ouch. It is close, Brad admits. But close is not perfect.
Frank Markus looks at his mom. She wants a fun four-door. No manual. IS300 is tempting. Cheap. Fast. But Frank prescribes an Audi A4 or a 323i instead. Better ride. Better interior. More room for garage-sale loot. The Lexus interior? Skinny. Hard. Stylish, sure, but somehow feels cheaper than it costs. Lexus is new at this. The recipe needs tweaking.
Csaba Csere got stared at. Everywhere. Those funky taillights. The chrome tailpipe. The thin 17-inch tires. The IS300 demands attention. It drives athletically. Sharp steering. Tight ride. Great grip. It lacks the plushness of the 328. But for thousands less, and with a warranty that lasts forever? It is worthy.
It is a car for people who want to be sporty without looking like they try too hard. Or perhaps it is just a car that knows who buys it.
