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Lexus RC 350: Lots of Pomp, Too Little Circumstance
Despite some quite bombastic advertising, writes Dan Neil, the Lexus RC350 is not really a performance car, but a sweet, refined boulevardier with a soundtrack of cute, kitteny growls
ONLINE BULLYING IS wrong, OK? So many of my Facebook friends are down on the Lexus RC 350 because it’s a weird fatty. That is so uncool.
Actually, frustratingly, so much about this car (premium sport coupe 2+2, $48,300 delivered in F Sport trim) is right: the overall proportions and roof profile, the taxiing-for-takeoff cockpit. I can even defend the chrome Mick Jagger lips. And yet a lot of my friends—car people, mostly—seem annoyed by it. Why?
It could be that, despite some quite bombastic advertising, the RC 350 is not a performance car but a capering boulevardier with a soundtrack of cute, kitteny growls. This content-rich Toyota puts a hurting on the scales, 3,894 pounds in F Sport trim,according to Car and Driver; that’s 329 pounds more than the Cadillac ATS Coupe 3.6 the lads weighed. The massy, thickly padded, heavily damped mien of the RC stirs the motoring blood like chamomile tea.
But that’s not fair since Lexus has built and sold a succession of refined, high-style, modestly quick luxury coupes—including the epicene SC 430 retractable hardtop—that didn’t care much for fast.
Here’s my critique: stance. A proper sport coupe has to sit low in its stance like a speed skater, hugging the ground, deeply balanced. It has to look fast, at least. Note the way the RC’s body appears to levitate over the chassis and wheels. Wheel-arch clearances, roof height, ground clearance…it’s not much but it’s not subtle. And I have to think that if everyone sees that, then Toyota/Lexus design sees that, too, and accepts it as an unchangeable.
Why? I think the villain here is efficient manufacturing.
The RC (the V6-powered RC 350 with available all-wheel drive; and the 467-hp, V8-powered RC F) comprises a clever hash of three Toyota/Lexus vehicle architectures underpinning the IS, IS C, and GS, pieced together to gain best effects from each. I am fully confident I cannot do justice to this complexity so I won’t try.
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By doing so the RC project team saved design time and manufacturing money. But it also exposed a risk. None of these platform ancestors is particularly ground hugging. And when you throw a two-door, fastback sport coupe body over a sedan’s chassis with relatively higher ground and wheel-arch clearances, the result can look trivial and unserious, more Scion than Lexus.
On a related point: All the aerodynamic hysterics in the RC’s skin— the fluted hood lines, the bulging wheel wells and rocker panels—read a bit naff and comic sitting so far away from the pavement, where the gathering maw of the front spoiler might do some good.
So that’s why they hate it.
And while we’re at the front of the car, what about the RC’s grille? You can’t say you weren’t warned. Lexus has been selling the spindle-grille design for a couple years and it almost works, most of the time. The stretched black netting of the optional F Sport grille is particularly compelling. But, again, a matter of optics: In bright sunlight or at anything like a direct angle of viewing (especially through a camera lens), the lower part of the grille sort of disappears into empty hole, like the car was in for radiator repairs.
In other lights and angles, the RC’s mirror-polished grille bezel definitely wants to make out, its chrome pouty lips coming at you with tiny fog lamps in the corners, like spit bubbles. You’ve had enough, lady.
There was obviously a lot of anxiety in the styling studio about the RC’s sportiness—and rightly so, since the RC 350 F Sport is escargot fantastique—and that led to the car’s one unforgivable sin: those fake rear evacuators in the lower rear bumper clip. These black composite strakes—like frills, or eyelashes, or nose hair, or hair in worse parts still if you listen to my FB friends—are pasted into the functionless slots. That is a no-no in $50,000-ish sport coupes.
My last, from-the-gut response: Lexus’s design has given this car a highly focused, intense face, a mighty, furrowed brow. But it looks like it’s trying to remember its wife’s social security number. Anthropomorphism: It’s a thing.
Some housekeeping, then: The RC 350 is powered by one of Toyota’s eel-slick power drones, the naturally aspirated, port- and direct-injected 3.5-liter, 306-hp V6 (277 pound-feet of torque) from the GS. Power is directed to the rear wheels by way of an eight-speed automatic transmission, unless you tick the all-wheel drive option ($2,235); then you get a six-speed automatic. No manual transmission, obviously.
‘The RC 350 is not a performance car but a capering boulevardier with a soundtrack of cute, kitteny growls.’
The F Sport trim (an additional $4,585 over the RC 350’s base of $43,715) is the minimum ante for performance driving: driver-selectable adaptive damping; rear-wheel steering; bigger wheels (19-inch); and stronger brakes.
The inner life of the F Sport is splendid, with etched-pattern alloy metal trims, handsomely stitched chairs and dash; aluminum pedals and cabin trim. The RC’s most charming detail is its motorized bezel in the instrument panel, a steampunk instrument readout that glides to the center of the display as needed.
Access to navigation, audio, climate and vehicles systems is reached by way of a quadrant-style touchpad in the center console. This has never been one of my favorite interfaces. It could be only that I am left-handed and the small touchpad requires more dexterity than I have in my right. Anyone who is considering a Lexus should spend some time diddling the touchpad to see if it’s a good fit.
2015 LEXUS RC350 F SPORT
Base price: $48,300
Price, as tested: $53,880, per Lexus
Powertrain: naturally aspirated, port- and direct-injection DOHC 3.5-liter V6 with variable valve timing; eight-speed automatic transmission with manual-shift mode; rear wheel drive.
Horsepower/Torque: 306 hp at 6,400 rpm, 277 lb-ft at 4,800 rpm
Length/weight: 184.8 inches/3,900 pounds (est)
Wheelbase: 107.5 inches
0-60 mph: 5.7 seconds (Car and Driver)
EPA fuel economy: 19/28 mpg, city/highway
The driving posture is rakish, the sport seats holding the driver firmly. The windshield angle is nicely laid down. There’s a taut-leather steering wheel in your hands. The wraparound cockpit feels intimate. The RC feels like it ought to fly. Ought to.
When the impetuous moment arrives and you slap the gear selector into the manual-mode gate and you give the RC 350 the gun, a flag that says “Bang” pops out of the barrel. In straight-line acceleration the RC veritably ambles to 60 mph in 5.8 seconds. That’s well off the pace of the competitive set, including the BMW 435i and Cadillac ATS 3.6. I’m not saying 0-60 mph acceleration is everything. But it’s something. The RC could have been stronger in passing, too. You really have to pick your spots and hold your breath. A mid-five-figure coupe should have deeper reserves of confidence.
The RC 350 F Sport has a nice set of pins under it, of course, and the 19-inch summer tires hold the line quite well. But it doesn’t take much for the car to bare its soul, growing disconcerted as cornering energies increase and getting all blinky-flashy stability-warning on you. The RC generally feels less happy the harder you hammer it.
It’s not that kind of car. It only looks like that kind of car.