Whether you
see Mercedes-Benz’s new S-class as the best car in the world or the ultimate
expression of irrelevant, irresponsible dinosaur design that has no place in
the ecologically aware ’90s, it is hard to deny that it is a pinnacle of luxury
car design to date.
That much
we knew from the 600SEL’s crushing victory against the combined might of the
Lexus, the Daimler Double-Six and the BMW 750i. The conclusion made it quite
clear: “The 600SEL embraces so much ability and luxury, it doesn’t merely beat
the opposition to a pulp but lifts the notion of best on to an altogether more
exalted plane.”
But what of
the lesser models in the S-class range? Can they bask in the same limelight as
their role model?
Although
S-class ownership starts at £43,700 for a six-cylinder, 3.2-litre 300SE, if you
want your S-class to come with a proper V8 purr, the cost goes up by £10,000 to
£53,450 for the 4.2-litre 400SE tested here. From there it’s child’s play to
add a further £10,000 from the endless list of cost options, all at suitably
inflated prices. Automatic climate control, leather trim, electric seats,
metallic paint and a radio were just some of the options Mercedes decided to
equip the test car with, raising its price by about the cost of a good
1.6-litre hatchback to around £63,000.
With
typically understated Mercedes styling, the 400SE is a car of imposing grace
and presence, yet it’s one that successfully disguises its bulk until you’re
close enough to realise that it stands nearly 5ft tall.
It’s not
just larger, either. Those familiar with the Mercedes 400SE’s predecessor, the
420SE, might be alarmed to learn that its successor is nearly half a ton
heavier and costs a third more. That’s the price of progress.
PERFORMANCE AND ECONOMY
That extra
weight means the benefits of the new multi-valve cylinder heads and updated
management technology aren’t enough to keep pace with the old 420SE’s
impressive performance. Despite the 27 per cent boost in power and a similar
torque increase for the 4.2-litre V8, plus a considerable aerodynamic
advantage, the latest 400SE is almost a second slower from rest to 60mph, half
a second slower from 30-70mph and four-tenths behind at 100 mph.
Incremental
times are virtually identical to the old car’s. Clearly, there’s no progress
here. The fact that it will reach 144mph, whereas the old car cried enough at
135mph, is little compensation to the British motorist.
Although it
is beautiful to look at, the engineering excellence of the 4.2-litre engine
goes deeper than that. Twin camshafts per bank with variable intake valve
timing operate four valves per cylinder. It is enough to produce 286bhp at
5700rpm, with 3021b ft of torque available at 3900rpm. Turn the key and the
engine idles almost imperceptibly at a steady 600rpm. It revs smoothly with
just a welcome roar from the muted exhaust note when under full power.
And the
bare figures — 0-60mph in 8.4secs, 30-70mph in 7.2secs and 0-100mph in 21.2secs
— show that the big Merc is still quick enough to slug it out with the Lexus,
even though BMW’s 300bhp, V12-engined 750i — cheaper than the 400SE, remember —
still makes the Mercedes appear to be burdened with a bootful of house bricks.
On the open
road, you rarely find yourself hankering for more urge. When you do, it is
usually because part-throttle downchanges are often tardy, and full kickdown
requires a hefty jab at the accelerator. Foot-flat upchanges aren’t always as
unobtrusive as they should be, either, but drive it gently and it will reward
with all but imperceptible shifts.
Fuel
economy was never going to be a strong suit, but the 400SE’s 14.6mpg overall is
unforgiveable. The vast 22-gallon tank means that the range remains acceptable
at about 350 miles, but even at 16.3mpg — the best we ever saw from a tank of
unleaded — the wallet sure takes a pounding.
HANDLING AND RIDE
No car this
big and heavy has a right to handle as well as the S-class does. The completely
new front double wishbone supension and multi-link rear set-up combine with a
stiff shell and fat tyres to produce a chassis with the classic rear-drive
bias, yet one that’s friendly enough to let you indulge in its awesome
capabilities in complete security.
This
agility results from eager tum-in and good front grip which keeps the nose
aimed at the apex of comers. As the body begins to roll the balance swings
gently to the rear, but if ever the back tyres should break loose it’s a
largely self-correcting slide.
Dips and
brows are dispatched with nonchalant ease, and it’s only when attacking a tight
and twisty, but narrow, road that the 400SE's bulk hampers progress to the
extent that it becomes a genuine handicap to swift progress.
When pushing
hard, the steering, helpfully inert on motorways, weights up and is as full of
feel as you could wish from so large a car. Its gearing and accuracy are spot
on, while mid-comer bumps are dismissed with contempt by this Mercedes.
400SE’s
suspension is even better. Fine damping control, allied to long-travel
suspension, means long-wave undulations are soaked up with almost eerie ease,
while those tiny, everyday imperfections in a road’s surface that cause a
slightly coarse ride in lesser saloons are ironed out of existence. But it’s
not perfect. Motorway ridges and expansion joints can cause a small thump and,
more seriously, at town speeds its composure is defeated by potholes, which
cause an undignified shudder.
The brakes
always demand a featherweight touch to the disappointingly mushy pedal. To
control such bulk, they need to work hard, but seem quite capable of the task
even after repeated and heavy use. Brake testing showed up a tendency for the
anti-lock to cut in early, although it was not repeated on the road.
AT THE WHEEL
Climb
aboard the 400SE and there’s never any doubt right from the start that this is
a special car. With optional electrics, the seats move anywhere you want at the
touch of a button and fit perfectly, whatever your shape and size. The
leather-bound wheel feels right, too. Smaller than before and concealing a
safety airbag within its centre, it has full electric adjustment. Seat memories
plus fine- tuning lumbar control are optional.
At first,
the facia looks like the instrument panel of a small jet. It seems confusing,
but when you realise that probably half the buttons and switches operate the
optional automatic climate control, the purpose of the remainder soon fall into
place.
The cabin,
its facia endowed with softer curves than those we’re accustomed tofrom
Mercedes, somehow feels a more friendly environment than other Mercedes
saloons. However, the instruments aren’t quite the model of clarity. The
multi-function dial in particular is difficult to assimilate quickly, the clock
is hidden from the passenger’s view, the cruise control stalk masks the main
beam tell-tale light and the bulky multi-function stalk switch is clumsy to
use, combining too many functions.
Visibility
is marred by thick roof pillars and headlights that, on the test car, were far
from satisfactory, despite Mercedes’ claim that it has improved lighting
efficiency. Oddment space is plentiful in the cabin, with a profusion of lidded
boxes.
COMFORT AND SPACE
Unless the
limo look of the SEL is paramount, the standard SE should have enough space
inside to suffice. After all, there’s more than enough room for five outsized
people and their luggage. And once inside, the levels of comfort and luxury are
second to none.
There’s no
need to slam the door — tiny motors close it the last half inch — and strapping
up the seatbelt is no hardship. The tension is so light that it’s hard to tell
you’re wearing one, but pre-tensioners take up any slack should it be needed.
The seats
and supple ride cosset and pamper passengers, and the separate heat controls
for each side forestalls any argument concerning interior temperature. When
stopped, the heater will even continue to pump latent heat for up to 30mins
with the engine switched off.
Noise
suppression is excellent, although the car is perhaps not as silent as you
might expect. At motorway cruising speeds the engine is virtually inaudible,
but there’s a faint hum from the tyres and a not so faint rustle from the side
windows, despite the impressive depth of door seal and the double glazing.
FINISH AND EQUIPMENT
There’s
something about the way Mercedes builds cars that gives them a feeling of
indestructability... but with the S-class, this bulletproof integrity goes a
stage further. Inside or out, everything looks as though it would stand a
lifetime of abuse. The flawless burr walnut trim for the door, centre console and
facia inserts could adorn a Rolls-Royce without comment and all the body panels
align with millimetric precision.
Thoughtful
detail touches to make life just that little bit more cosseting abound, but
some of the more basic requirements fall into the cost option category. Air
conditioning and heated seats, for example, are costly extras. So is leather
trim, traction control, seat memory, remote central locking, metallic paint and
even a radio. Many of these could be expected from a car half this price.
VERDICT
That the
Mercedes 400SE comes close to being the pinnacle of luxury car engineering
achievement was never in doubt. The chassis is superlative in the way it
handles this great bulk, and the ride quality quietness and sheer luxury are as
good as you would expect in a car of this considerable cost, even if the level
of standard equipment could and should be better.
The car’s
real problem is its weight. It means the fine engine and gearbox have to work
hard to provide decent performance and makes you pay dearly for it at every
visit to pumps.
For all its
impressive virtues — and it’s a long, long list — the Mercedes 400SE is by no
means an untouchable feat of engineering. The real challenge now for Mercedes’
rivals is to produce a car this good but which is lighter and uses less fuel
while retaining the same performance, cabin room and luxury. The Lexus is
already part-way there. For the ecology-conscious ’90s, the S-class is merely a
starting point, however good, for the luxury car of the future.
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